Voahangy was in Paris.

We are back from three and a half  weeks in France, visiting my 81-year-old mother who recently fell ill. No holidays or road trips in the French countryside this time. Mr T and I have spent most of our time attending a Paris hospital, navigating the French health system, and catching up with my family. 

Not here to play tourists, we didn’t visit a single museum, shop, or monument. Yes, I realise how crazy it must sound to anyone wishing they could have three weeks in Paris. But for us, finding ourselves weary after each hospital visit, a simple stroll through familiar neighbourhoods was all we could manage. 

With the hospital located in the heart of Paris, it was the occasion to revisit old haunts in the 6th arrondissement. From the Jardin du Luxembourg, a place of many walks as kids, to the St Sulpice square and church, where Mum and I would drive on Saturday afternoons and enjoy a few hours of window shopping. Then there is the Boulevard Saint Michel and the Latin Quarter, our student hub for bookstores, arts, movies, and cheap eateries. 

Come along for a stroll… 

On several occasions, Mr T and I enjoyed the long walk through the Jardin du Luxembourg. Starting from the Fontaine de l’Observatoire, the southern extension of the Luxembourg garden, it is a lovely stroll under the shade of many trees and along monuments and statues.

This area is home to many higher education institutions, and on this late June Friday afternoon, many students and workers alike enjoy picnic spreads on the manicured green lawn, celebrating the end of the academic year and the start of the summer holidays. 

The Jardin de Luxembourg itself covers 25 hectares and is known for its lawns, fruit trees, glasshouses, wide promenades, model sailboats cruising on its octagonal Grand Bassin, manicured flower beds,  and the picturesque Medici Fountain. It is managed by the Senate, which meets in the palace.

Add tennis courts, a puppet theatre, a music kiosk, an orangerie used for art exhibitions, a museum, and a small café-restaurant, and you can see how the Luxembourg Garden breaks attendance records with over 6 million visitors per year! 

Exiting on the northern side, it is a short walk to one of my favourite places, the Place Saint-Sulpice. It is dominated by the majestic Saint-Sulpice church, Paris’ second-largest church ( after Notre Dame Cathedral ) and the Saint-Sulpice fountain in its centre. 

When my mother and I used to drive into the city for our Saturday afternoon shopping trip, we would always park there and explore the surrounding streets for hours.  

The church forecourt and the square are essentially pedestrian and host regular cultural events throughout the year. I remember attending Christmas markets in my youth and an antique fair with Anne a couple of years ago.

By chance, we stumbled upon the latest fair, “Le Marché de la Poésie,” a poetry market. Similar to a writers’ festival, dozens of writers and publishing houses showcase their books, run workshops, and reading sessions. How very French, says Mr. T!

Moving on and starting to feel peckish, he is eyeing out every restaurant we pass by, looking for a quintessential Parisian lunch.

We set our sights on “Les Editeurs” in the Carrefour de l’Odéon. We’re in the heart of the district of bookstores, and this café-restaurant beckons with its red leather armchairs framed by bookcases filled with over 5,000 books  and its literary salon look.

We pick a table overlooking the busy square. The menu cover has the look of an award-winning novel. The clientele seems to be a happy “mélange” of locals dropping in for a café and tourists enjoying a late lunch. Drinks appear first, Mr T makes a quick work of his beer as I sip on my Kir au Chardonnay. It takes a while to decipher the menu: the cuisine is a mix of classical brasserie dishes and more modern creations that wouldn’t be out of place in a Sydney restaurant. Because it is a very hot day, we decide against anything hot. That leaves us with salads and cold options.

We share a small plate of Tuna Tataki and Yuzu sauce to start with. 

For mains, Mr T can’t go past the Beef Tartare while I select the dish of the day, Duck tartare. He asks me what the difference would be, and I roll my eyes, telling him he’s about to find out. Both dishes are served with a copious amount of green salad and French fries. The beef tartare has a softer texture than expected, it is more like a rough paste. Flavoured with herbs and sun-dried tomatoes, it tastes of summer. The duck tartare is much chunkier, and you can tell every piece of breast meat. It has been marinated in lime juice, capers, pomegranate, and shallots. I like how the acidity cuts through the richness of the duck breast.

Feeling pleasantly full, we skip dessert, and head towards the Seine, looking for possible literary finds from the bouquinistes. They are these Parisian book sellers who unfold their stalls from the green boxes attached to the walls along the banks of the Seine. I have always loved browsing through these, hoping to find old gems. 

Sadly, this time, many of these iconic boxes are closed. Not sure why that is. Could it be a crackdown from the Mayor’s office ( there were threats to move them on during the 2024 Olympics )? Maybe the market is drying out, and people don’t like to buy second-hand books any longer? The book lover that I am would hate to see them go.