From Port to Paris
With our river cruise complete, we take a TGV to Paris for the final leg of the journey. We get settled in the Latin Quarter, then head out for an indulgent dinner at one of the finest restaurants in Paris.
The TGV route from Le Creusot to Paris.
After a relaxing week sailing up the Rhône and Saône, strolling through a string of beautiful and historic towns, and sampling the delights of shops and restaurants from Provence to Burgundy, Marianne and I faced a full day of nuts-and-bolts travel logistics. The AmaStella buzzed with activity early in the morning, with 150 passengers busily packing their things and sneaking in a final breakfast before disembarkation at 9:00 a.m.
We had arranged for a taxi to pick us up at the port for the 30-minute drive west to the outskirts of Le Creusot. There a high-speed TGV train, or train à grande vitesse, would whisk us away to Paris.
We managed to get our things off the boat on time and found our taxi with little trouble for the uneventful ride to Le Creusot. We had reserved tickets in Coach 1 of the TGV, and after a short wait in the station, we lined up at the end of the platform to prepare to board the front of the train. When the TGV arrived, it took us a moment to realize that it was running backward, and our coach was at the other end of the platform. Adrenalin summoned, we made a frantic, clumsy jog down the track, struggling with our heavy luggage. The platform cleared. The train doors were ready to close. We weren’t going to make it. We hastily hopped aboard a different coach, and I pulled in the luggage behind us just as the doors closed. We left our bags in the crowded entryway and made our way a couple of cars forward to our seats, feeling frazzled and sweaty.
The rest of the day proceeded much more according to plan. We sat across from two middle-aged French businessmen on the TGV discussing — well, business, I suppose, but for all I knew they could have been comparing midfielders from Ligue 1. The ride to Gare de Lyon in Paris was smooth and zippy. At the station, we picked up another taxi to our hotel just south of the Seine in the Latin Quarter — home to schools and universities such as the Sorbonne, where Latin was taught as the primary language until the French Revolution.
Across from our hotel was Saint-Séverin Church, an ornate, Gothic church built between the 13th and 15th centuries on the site of a previous church destroyed in a Viking invasion of Paris in the 9th century. The official term for the architectural style of the church is “Flamboyant Gothic,” which certainly fits Saint-Séverin — with details sprouting and soaring from every vantage point.
We checked into our hotel, dropped off our luggage, and set out in the afternoon for a quick walk around the neighborhood. Just a bit to the east, we could see Notre-Dame de Paris, the famed Catholic cathedral from the 12th century that was still under reconstruction after a suffering heavy damage in a fire four years earlier.
We continued our walk through our new neighborhood, scouting shops and restaurants and finishing at Fontaine Saint-Michel. Built between 1858-1860 and designed by architect Gabriel Davioud, the massive fountain with its pink Corinthian columns was originally intended to showcase a feminine statue of Peace. A later proposal suggested it should instead feature Napolean Bonaparte, but the fresh legacy of the diminutive general was too controversial for approval. Davioud pivoted to a concept showing Archangel Michael triumphant in his battle with the devil, which was approved and executed by sculptor Francisque-Joseph Duret.
That night, we donned our nicest outfits and took the Metro west, stopping on Pont des Invalides to enjoy sunset views of the Seine. Upstream, we could see Pont Alexandre III, a lavishly decorated 19th-century bridge with brightly gilded statues and Beaux-Arts lamps; downstream, the Eiffel Tower emerged from surrounding trees in silhouette against the fading daylight.
I made my first trip to Paris as a 20-year-old, hosteling around Europe on the cheap after spending a semester in London. I remember walking up the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, enticed by the aromas of a Burger King but resigned to an even more spartan meal of oranges and baguettes to stretch my budget for museums and transportation.
Now, decades later, my wife and I approached the stately façade of Lassere, one of the finest restaurants in Paris, for a night of culinary indulgence.
Founded in 1942 by René Lasserre, the restaurant is a Parisian institution, boasting three Michelin stars for more than 20 years. Its palatial dining room has hosted such luminaries as Charlton Heston, Paulette Goddard, Audrey Hepburn, Salvador Dalí, Brigitte Bardot, and Robert De Niro. And for one night, Marianne and I would become part of that grand history.
After a few complimentary tasting treats, we delighted in a creamy lobster bisque. I followed it with an excellent Filet Rossini smothered in a Madeira wine sauce — prepared tableside in a fiery flourish — while Marianne doubled down on the crustacean cuisine with an outstanding Lobster Thermador.
In the middle of our meal, the mechanical roof above the dining room opened for a spell to reveal the skies above Paris, a magical moment amidst a truly special evening of gastronomy.
For dessert, our waiter returned for a tableside encore, making silky crêpes Suzette while we reveled in a rich chocolate tart and other bonus sweets, all paired with a delicate Sauternes from Bordeaux. We could not have been more pleased with our experience.
We arrived back in the Latin Quarter in a state of pampered revery and marveled at the elaborate ornamentation of Saint-Séverin at night — its many decorative features casting shadows in all directions, giving sharp relief to its collection of intricate figures and patterns. Such architectural extravagance was nevertheless no match for our destination the next day: the Palace of Versailles.
