Three Days, Too Many Steps, and Not Enough Paris

Day 1 - Museums and Walking Paris into Our Legs

We (two adventure-lover girls) arrived in Paris before sunrise at Gare du Nord slightly disoriented, slightly sleep-deprived, but very ready. First task: figuring out public transport. We grabbed our tickets from the machines and headed out. Although we initially used single tickets to get to the hostel, the real hero of the trip turned out to be the student 3-day transport pass—only €8 and an absolute lifesaver. Unlimited rides, zero stress.

Without wasting any time, we made our way straight to the museum district to pick up our Museum Pass. From that moment on, Paris officially became an open-air museum—and we started exploring it on foot. Our walk began in the Tuileries Garden, where the city slowly woke up around us. Statues, fountains, wide gravel paths, and that soft Parisian morning light—it felt unreal.

Priority number one, though? Coffee and food. We stopped at a random café, ordered strong coffee and a plain croissant, and honestly, nothing has ever tasted that good. Hungry, caffeinated, and finally alive.

Our first real stop was Musée de l’Orangerie, where Monet’s Water Lilies completely stole our hearts. Those massive, immersive panels are impossible to describe properly—you don’t just look at them, you sink into them. After wandering around the museum and its peaceful garden for a bit, we continued on, fully museum-mode activated.

Next up: the Louvre. We passed by the iconic glass pyramids, soaked in the scale of the place, and—yes—saw the Mona Lisa (briefly, from a distance, surrounded by chaos, as expected). Still, checking it off the list felt surreal.

From there, we walked and walked and walked. Paris is dangerous like that. At some point, we climbed all the way to the top of Arc de Triomphe, and the view made every single step worth it. Paris stretched endlessly in every direction—orderly, elegant, glowing.

We continued down Champs-Élysées, slowly drifting toward Petit Palais, which completely caught us off guard. The architecture alone was enough to leave us standing there with our mouths open. We took a break in its café, cooled down with a refreshing kombucha, and just… breathed.

Then on to Musée d’Orsay, one of the highlights of the day. Inside, we wandered among works by Van Gogh, Degas, Manet, Renoir, and so many others. Soft brushstrokes, movement, light—Impressionism at its finest, all housed inside a former railway station that is a masterpiece on its own.

Somewhere along this route—honestly, the exact order is a blur—we passed through Saint-Germain, crossed and re-crossed the Seine, and saw the Eiffel Tower both from far away and unexpectedly close. We watched the river for long moments, letting Paris unfold slowly as we explored almost the entire city on foot.

Dinner brought us to Bouillon, where we fully surrendered to French cuisine:
onion soup, baguette, duck, escargot… and finally profiteroles and crème brûlée. Absolute happiness.

We ended the night watching the Eiffel Tower sparkle, lights flashing against the dark sky, before making our way back to the hostel—completely exhausted, over-stimulated, and very sure of one thing: this trip was going to be intense.

Day 2 - Latin Quarter

We started Day 2 full speed, fueled by one thing: French Bastards. Delicious sandwiches, flaky pastries, and buns that instantly set the tone for the day. If Paris had a breakfast personality, this would be it.

Today’s focus was the Latin Quarter, but before heading south, we made sure to walk through Palais Royal. Its calm courtyard and black-and-white columns felt like a quiet pause before the city pulled us back in.

From there, we moved on to Notre Dame. Even from the outside, it’s impossible not to stop and stare. Just across, Sainte-Chapelle completely stunned us—its stained-glass windows are unreal, glowing with color and light in a way that feels almost otherworldly. Paris really doesn’t do subtle.

Somewhere in between, we took a much-needed break on Pont Neuf. Sitting down, watching the Seine flow by, legs tired but hearts full. Because yes—once again, we were walking. And walking. And walking.

Then came the Panthéon. A totally different atmosphere. Grand, serious, almost solemn. Stepping inside felt like stepping into another version of Paris—less romantic, more monumental, but equally powerful.

After that, we let ourselves get lost in the narrow backstreets of Paris, drifting without a plan. Around midday, hunger hit again, and we grabbed both sweet and savory crêpes from a random stand. Simple, warm, perfect.

Our next stop was Opéra Garnier. Dramatic, extravagant, and almost unreal. The grand staircase, the ceilings, the gold details—everything felt excessive in the most Parisian way possible. Even standing outside and looking up felt like a performance.

Next stop: Galeries Lafayette. And yes—the rooftop is absolutely worth the hype. The view is breathtaking, one of the best panoramas in the city. Before leaving, we also tried some éclairs, because at this point resisting French desserts felt pointless.

From there, we headed to Luxembourg Gardens. We picked up mint tea from a fast-food chain across the street(very Paris-coded chaos) and enjoyed it while resting in the park, surrounded by chairs, trees, and people doing absolutely nothing—which somehow felt productive.

Surprisingly (or maybe not), Paris also does Italian food incredibly well. For dinner, we chose Ober Mamma, and it did not disappoint. Big flavors, comforting plates, zero regrets.

We ended the day at Le Soufflé, sharing a perfectly fluffy soufflé and officially calling it a night.

Tired feet, happy stomachs, and once again, the realization that Paris is best experienced slowly—but somehow we were still doing it fast.

Day 3 - Montmartre Views and Saying Goodbye

Day 3 was our last day in Paris, with a train to the Netherlands waiting for us at 5:00 pm—which meant we had to be gentle with time, if not with our legs.

By now we had learned one important rule: any bakery in Paris is a good bakery. So close to the hostel, we stopped somewhere simple and perfect, had pain au chocolat and quiche, and quietly accepted that Paris breakfasts just don’t miss.

Our final route was all about Montmartre. Narrow streets, uneven pavements, little corners that feel like they belong to another era. Artists setting up their easels, tiny cafés tucked into side streets, laundry hanging from windows—it felt cinematic in the most effortless way. Montmartre isn’t polished Paris; it’s softer, messier, more lived-in.

Then came our very tourist moment.

Completely unaware of the funicular, we decided to climb up to Sacré-Cœur via the stairs. Step after step after step. Slight regret. Heavy breathing. But then—the view. Absolute wow. Paris stretched out beneath us, rooftops glowing, the city looking endless and calm all at once. Suddenly, the stairs felt… almost worth it.

We added our own little mark to the city by locking a heart-shaped lock, then laid down on the grass, letting time slow down. Nearby, we watched the carousel from Amélie spin gently, and for a moment, everything felt quiet, nostalgic, and very unreal. One of those travel moments you know you’ll replay in your head years later.

Eventually, reality called. We made our way back toward Gare du Nord, backpacks a little heavier, hearts definitely so. The streets we passed felt familiar now—not rushed, not overwhelming. Just Paris, being Paris.

Standing at the station, saying goodbye wasn’t dramatic. It was soft. Grateful. The kind of goodbye that knows it’s not really final.