A View of Notre Dame from Pont St. Michel *Photo by Diane Covington-Carter*

I began studying French at age 14, dreaming of the day when I could visit Paris, sit at one of these sidewalk cafes with the little round tables and rickety-looking chairs, drink un café from a tiny cup, stroll along the Seine and gaze at the beautiful Rose window in Notre Dame.

Those dreams carried me through five years of intense devotion to French classes, memorizing irregular verbs and staring at those images in my French grammar books. In college, I dreamed of doing my “Junior Year Abroad” and living in France.

But life had other plans, and my dreams of Paris got tucked away until finally, at age 33, I sat at a sidewalk café in Paris, sipped un café, walked along the Seine and gazed at the exquisite Rose window.

The Rose Window in Notre Dame Cathedral
*Photo by Diane Covington-Carter*

That first trip, I stayed in a hotel on Rue des Écoles, in the 5th arrondissement, the Latin Quarter, at a cost of five dollars a night. I so relished the experience of being in Paris, speaking French. It was everything I had imagined and more.

Another 11 years passed until I was able to visit Paris again. By then, my daughters were grown, and I was free to indulge my dreams. I had continued to study French through the years and felt at home each time I visited Paris, always staying in the Latin/Student Quarter, the 5th arrondissement.

Since that second visit, I have counted almost fifty visits to Paris. The 5th arrondissement feels like my neighborhood there, the first place I ever stayed and now my choice because I know it so well.

What do I love about my neighborhood in Paris? What makes it feel like home?

The RER B train rattles from Charles de Gaulle airport for the 40-minute trip, right to Boulevard St. Michel, the heart of the 5th arrondissement. The cost, about 12 Euros, is a fraction of the cost of a taxi. I can hop off the train and walk a few short blocks to my hotel.

Once settled into my hotel, I can visit the Gilbert Joseph Bookstore on Blvd. St. Michel and take the escalator up to the 5th floor and browse the English titles. Or buy a French classic, if I feel like challenging myself.

The Gilbert/Joseph Book Store at night
*Photo by Diane Covington-Carter*

Just across a side street, The Monoprix department store store sells fresh squeezed orange juice in bottles to go, so sweet and fresh and just the thing to cure jet lag. I can also stock up on snacks or even clothes I might need, always a practical treat to take home as a souvenir.

I can follow my nose down the street, to The Paul Bakery, which brims with aromas of delectable treats, butter and baguettes just out of the oven, pain au chocolate, croissants, and the apple and cinnamon of Chasson aux pommes, (my favorite yummy apple tart). The bakery offers a lunch special, which includes a sandwich, drink, and dessert for a very reasonable price.

Across the street, Etam sells all the latest fashions at affordable prices, so I will buy at least a chic T-shirt with that unmistakable French flair.

For a walk in nature, I head up the street to the Jardin de Luxembourg, for a quiet spot to sit and reflect, or to even take a watercolor art class, as I did in 2019.

Statues in the Jardin de Luxembourg
*Photo by Diane Covington-Carter*

The Eiffel tower in the distance from the Jardin de Luxembourg
*Photo by Diane Covington-Carter*

Plane trees in the Jardin de Luxembourg
*Photo by Diane Covington-Carter*

Just down the boulevard, past Boulevard Saint Germaine, I can breathe in the fresh air from the Seine, then walk on to Notre Dame Cathedral, to gaze at the beautiful stained-glass windows. I sit and breathe in the aroma of incense in the sacred space, then light candles for loved ones who have passed from my life.

A bridge on the Seine
*Photo by Diane Covington-Carter*

On the way back, a stop in at Shakespeare and Company to browse used books and listen to the chatter of English, a break from French submersion.

The 5th arrondissement has many small and unique hotels to choose from, simple, clean and more affordable than other areas. I have stayed in a variety of them and always feel comfortable.

I know the bus routes to the Gare St. Lazare, when I take the train to Caen to visit my adopted family in Normandy. (See my award-winning memoir Finding Gilbert, A Promise Fulfilled,
https://dianecovingtoncarter.com/books/finding-gilbert to read how I found the French orphan, Gilbert, who my father tried to adopt during World War II.)

I know where the ATMs are when I need cash. I know the narrow lane which offers delicious three-course dinners at a fixed price, a few short steps from my hotel. A starter, main course and dessert–crème brûlée or a pot de crème (chocolate mousse) is always the perfect ending of a delicious meal.

In the haze of jetlag, I recognize the familiar landmarks, breathe a sigh at that knowing and recover more quickly when I don’t have to find my way around in a new area. I can ease into Paris, my known corner of the City of Light, my neighborhood.

A fountain in the 5th arrondissement
*Photo by Diane Covington-Carter*

I got a late start in claiming my Paris neighborhood, but I caught up. I never get over the wonder.

Ah yes, here I am again. It hasn’t changed.

My Paris neighborhood welcomes me back each time.

My Paris Neighborhood

Remembering John O’Donohue