Rue François Miron Revisited

(10/27/22) The reality is, we can’t get into the apartment yet. We’ve arrived too early. Wheeling our bags over the cobble-stoned lane by the carousel at the St. Paul Métro station, we head to a nearby café for a coffee and croissant. The morning air is fresh, the city is beginning to come alive. As we’ve discovered, Parisians are surprisingly late risers. The streets don’t really start to hum with activity until 11 a.m. I reach out on WhatsApp to Luz, our concierge, who advises me that the apartment will be ready at 12:30 p.m., after a thorough cleaning. Ugh! Two-and-a-half hours before we can revisit our home, dubbed Ma Maison Miron by Adrian Leeds.

After our very satisfying first breakfast in Paris -- the allongé, a shot of espresso extended with a shot of piping hot water, is our go-to coffee choice in France, while the French croissant is perfect as is or with a bit of confiture à fraises – we drop off our bags at the apartment, greeted by the smiling, Spanish-speaking cleaning lady, and head south to the Seine.

The river is a quick, 5-minute walk from our street. We arrive to discover the river banks on both sides devoid of people, an odd switch from the usual bustling scene of strollers, joggers, rollerbladers and cyclists.

After strolling a few blocks, taking in the heady, atmospheric beauty of the city’s ancient quays and bridges, we reemerge at street level in view of l’Hotel de Ville, the enormous and imposing building containing the office of the mayor of Paris.

We’ve walked these streets countless times during our first two stays at the apartment, so we feel at home now. In truth, though, the Marais is a quartier so jampacked with narrow, winding streets, I get the feeling one could live here for years and not see them all. For me, there will always be a feeling of potential here, of thrilling discoveries just waiting to be realized. I can’t imagine loving a place more.