Yesterday’s schedule was an easy one for me and Anna, simply because I’m physically exhausted. I sleep very little, and the constant noise outside doesn’t help at all. I need to make a small parenthesis here: back home we wake up to the sound of mourning doves, otherwise it’s complete silence. We have no neighbors on one side of the house, just a patch of forest, and the ones on the other side are extremely quiet people.

So the shock is major when here there’s chaos on the streets from 7 a.m. until 3 in the morning. Yesterday, the people at the terrace below us sang until they went hoarse — it was someone’s birthday and they kept the “recital” going until they were kicked out at closing time.

I still don’t understand what schedule these people are on or what kind of jobs are waiting for them the next day… I honestly wonder how Parisians manage to live in this constant tumult. 🤦🏻‍♀️ Maybe this is normal for them?!

Yesterday I stayed in bed longer, trying to ignore the racket around me. At 6:30 a.m., the recycling truck decided it was the perfect moment to empty the glass containers. I can’t even describe the decibels produced by the clattering bottles, smashing into each other and then into the metal truck. For a second, I thought I was part of some acoustic experiment. Paris, in its own style: never subtle, always efficient. 🤦🏻‍♀️

After surviving this 6:30 wake‑up concert, I took a shower to recover mentally, got dressed, and went out in search of a bakery. Here, temptations are at every corner, and I, a great lover of carbs, am starting to adapt dangerously fast to the Parisian breakfast. I’m not even sure anymore if it’s adaptation or surrender.

One thing that constantly surprises me is how good the food is here. Compared to Italy, where everything is “wow” mostly in theory, here I actually feel that homemade taste — food made with soul, not just marketing. And we’re not the type who hunt down Michelin stars or restaurants with endless reviews. When we’re hungry, we look around and sit wherever we find a free table. Simple. And yet, we haven’t had a single bad meal. The French really know how to cook.

After sorting out breakfast, I went back to the room and woke Anna up with a pain au chocolat waved strategically under her nose. George refused any temptation — we had tickets to the Orsay Museum and nothing could sway him.

The two of us declared it a free day. Too many museums in this city, it feels like they’re planted at every corner. I need a mental break, otherwise I risk confusing Monet with Manet without blinking.

Then I waited for Anna to get ready. One hour, minimum. For her, leaving the house is a multi‑stage process: outfit changes, makeup, perfume, touch‑ups, existential reevaluations. Honestly, I think her future husband is going to have his patience thoroughly tested by this.

I, on the other hand, am ready in five minutes. It also helps that I forgot all my cosmetics at home — an unintentionally wise decision, it seems. 😁

By the time we finally managed, with great logistical effort, to leave the house, it was almost lunchtime. It had just rained, the streets looked cleaner than ever, and the linden trees in bloom smelled exactly like the Bucharest of my childhood. A moment so beautiful that I almost forgot how long I had waited to get out.

We walked slowly through the streets, enjoying the day, until we reached Montmartre, near Forum des Halles. A place full of shops and bustle, with escalators taking you in every direction. We explored a bit and, without realizing it, ended up at the Pharmacie du Forum des Halles.

For the uninitiated: right in the 1st arrondissement, in the heart of Forum des Halles, you’ll find La Grande Pharmacie du Forum — the largest pharmacy in Paris and, as a bonus, in all of France. We’re talking 2,000 m² of creams, pills, syrups, and anything else you can imagine, plus over 40,000 products. Basically, a Disneyland of pharmacies. And it’s no surprise that up to 1,200 people walk through its doors every day. If you can’t find something here, it probably doesn’t exist.

Which ties in nicely with the fact that I mentioned earlier: I forgot all my cosmetics at home. 🤪 You can find every brand imaginable here — creams, cosmetics, treatments, medicines. It’s impossible to go through everything in a single day. And with such good prices on cosmetics, the temptation is huge. Very huge. 🤪

After spending quite a while inside and coming out with a visibly lighter wallet, we met up with George, freshly out of the Orsay Museum. He told us how beautiful it is. We haven’t checked it off yet, but we’ll be back.

Then inspiration struck: let’s find a double‑decker bus and do a proper tourist tour. We searched online, found Big Bus Tours, went to their first stop, and hopped on, ready for adventure.

For a first time in Paris, these tourist buses are an amazing alternative when your feet can’t take any more walking. The route is designed to cover all the important areas in the city center, the audio guide is available in every language imaginable, and you get to see everything properly without exhausting yourself. I regret not doing this on day one.