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From London to Paris—happy birthday to me

August 28, 2023

I write this from my home office, far away from elegant architecture and Starbucks baristas who call your name fabulously. Oh Paris, how I miss you. I’m now 40 years and nine days old delighted with how I marked the crossing into this new decade of life. I had no expectations for my trip to Europe except to thoroughly enjoy the unplug from work (not the ‘I’m off but still working’ type of vacation I typically take). I admit I had a little anxiety and preoccupation with safety–traveling abroad with a six-year-old. But from London to Paris in a week, I had a perfect happy birthday–bar none. And I unequivocally recognize that this is largely in part due to my dear friends, Tim and Shaie, and their three lovely girls (Zoe, Olivia, and Londyn). Ash and the girls are some little traveling troopers. They had a ball together.

If I think about it, I had no significant qualms about turning forty. I felt neutral about it. I didn’t feel depressed or solemn about any unchecked accomplishments or have thoughts of wishing to be further ahead than I am now. (Really, I was in Paris, in good health, with my little family and genuine friends, being showered with love, having a ball— what better place to be in life than that?) Also, I tend not to discredit the hard work I’ve done to get where I am in life, and so in that respect, I’m always proud and healthily content. Have I struggled in certain areas of my life this year? Yes. Do I wish a few things were different right now? Yes. I would elaborate but do not wish to incriminate myself. Essentially though, turning forty has nothing to do with the not-so-great parts of life. I had trials and tribulations in my twenties the same. Overall, I feel secure with myself as a forty-year-old woman. I still have evolving goals and aspirations and plan to continue working hard. And so, my vacation to London and Paris for my birthday was an intentional marker.

We took a direct (overnight) flight on Delta—Detroit to London Heathrow.

While in London, we stayed at the Rosewood London—elegant and modern-esque. A Shinola (IYKYK) on steroids—beautiful bouquets of fresh flowers in the living area and bedside tables. Going to sleep with a bouquet of white hydrangeas perfectly placed in a fancy decorative vase on your nightstand—these kinds of details make me happy. We arrived in London early morning, so our first stop was for breakfast in the Holborn dining room at the hotel (because no I did not eat the English egg muffin distributed on the plane). After breakfast, the waitress surprised me with a beautiful (and yummy) small chocolate doughnut-like dessert with a candle in it. So, off the back my birthday was off on a good note.

While in Paris, we stayed at the Shangri-La—breathtaking. Would I recommend both? Yes. Do I have a favorite? Yes. Shangri-La in Paris is it for me. If anything, when you see pictures of a hotel advertised, the photos are like a filtered selfie in the best light, but in person, you may be a little underwhelmed, your expectations more grazed than exceeded. This is not the case for Shangri-La, in which its online photos feel under accurate—in person, it’s pretty overwhelmingly gorgeous and royal but in an unstuffy, gracious kind of way. And I adored the staff at Shangri-La–every single encounter. Both hotels made my birthday extra special, and I appreciate that.

A Conair travel steamer, Lululemon lightweight trench (for the train ride to Paris), weatherman umbrella (for that morning it decides to rain a little), and travel adapters (for both London and Paris)—all travel essentials highly recommended by moi.

In Europe, the bacon is different (it’s giving ham, and if you like your bacon crispy, pass on it here), and the cabs are very clean and nice (it’s not giving taxis as I imagined). In my entire time in Paris, I had not one experience to confirm this “bad reputation” I heard of the Parisians, which further lets me know that God was smiling down on all of my shenanigans. Either that or our small attempts at learning a little basic French paid off (even Ash practiced for weeks—Bonjour, je m’apelle Asher). My first interaction was when a Parisian woman kindly pointed to the seat she was leaning on, offering it to Ash on the underground Metro. My very next interaction was with Lisa at the Shangri La, who I think made it her duty to eradicate all bad reputation experiences with Parisians because she was extraordinarily kind. When I walked into my room to see the surprise that she and Brian had been working on without me knowing I cried and hugged her too. These beautiful details—chocolate, balloons, champagne, and fruit—made my day.

I also kept hearing that the food was not so great in Europe. I can neither confirm nor deny these allegations. The food I had was good–comparable to any foods I have tried at restaurants or hotels in the States. The omelet I had in London was good (the hammy bacon was different but still palatable). The breakfast via in-room dining at Shangri-La was delicious–surprisingly enough, even the scrambled eggs. We tried Gordon Ramsay’s Street burger in London, which I would eat again. My official birthday brunch was at a new Italian restaurant in London called Jacuzzi. The garlic focaccia was delicious (we ordered two servings). The main entrée was pizza–something the kids could get into. Shaie and I both ordered the strawberry kiss drink twice. It was refreshing. It wasn’t a blow-me-away type of meal, but coupled with the ambiance of the restaurant, it was delightful. At the Carrousel du Louvre in Paris, we tried EL&N London (i.e., London’s most Instagrammable cafe), which overall, I think everyone liked the least—though Tim and I had no complaints about the chicken Caesar salad (which was actually quite delicious and filling). We still concluded that saving EL&N for a tea or coffee and pastry dessert stop was probably better than for a sustenance meal.

I walked across Tower Bridge, which all this time I thought was “thee London Bridge.” I walked to Buckingham Palace. Can you imagine having people gawking at your home every day? Ugh. Did I gawk and video those famous red-coated, bear-helmeted guards? I did. I had a recommendation (from one of my patients) to watch the changing of the guards if I could, but I’m not sure when that takes place and did not bother looking it up. I walked under the Eiffel Tower (the wait to get tickets for access via lift was an hour, and the top was closed due to capacity limits, so a walk under sufficed). I walked through the Dior Gallery, to the Arc De Triomphe, and the Louvre. It’s all breathtakingly beautiful. I walked through Disneyland in Paris. Is Disney still magical thousands of miles from home? Yes, it is. The Marvel Avenger Campus is fun! Ash was obsessed with the Spiderman W.E.B adventure attraction. I walked and walked and walked through London and Paris—feet tired, heart full. As a side note, I fared better with my Ted Baker espadrilles than my Stan Smiths.

We took another direct flight in the early morning—leaving Charles De Gaulle. In nine hours or so, we were back in Detroit.

I could write on and on about my time in Europe. Long story short, from London to Paris was the time of my life. It was all perfect (including the weather). I’m so grateful for the experience. And I hope Ash remembers it forever too–how he tossed balloons all over the room with his friends as the Eiffel Tower peered through the window sparkling at the top of the late hours, how he hilariously learned what a bidet was, how he ate macaroons and those most heavenly plums before going to bed on his last night there.

There are inherent fears in getting older, especially as a woman. I’m grateful that those doubts and fears aren’t overshadowing all the good stuff that has come with age–gathering wisdom and courage. Maybe it will all hit me later, closer to fifty; perhaps it never will (at any rate, I can tell you that I have no desire to be twenty again, especially in today’s world). So happy birthday to me—farewell to my thirties, and cheers to my forties.

London, Paris, thank you, merci beaucoup, au revoir. Xo

Here are a few pics (you can check my Instagram for more thrills and reels).

Please share–any recommendations for my next trip?

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