Weekend in Paris #9

Je t'aime comme un chien! 🐶 💕

Weekend in Paris is a bonus series for paid subscribers—it’s one part recap of my off-duty fun as a baking school student, one part dishing about (temporary) expat life. This post is now unlocked for all readers to enjoy. Bienvenue!

Shopping isn’t high on my list of hobbies, but after two months of living near the iconic department store Le Bon Marché, I figured it was time to step inside.

For the past few weeks, the store’s exterior had been plastered with the words “JE T’AIME COMME UN CHIEN”—I love you like a dog, which is to say unconditionally and without reservation—as well as a gigantic photo of an Australian shepherd. It was time to figure out why!

Inside, I found that the escalators had been transformed into enormous dog bones; across the atrium, dog-shaped cardboard cutouts watched the bones with rapt attention (and swayed in unison like adorable metronomes). A special section of the store sold all kinds of design-forward products that featured or were meant for dogs.

Apparently, the splashy display was for an excellent cause: an organization called Gamelles Pleines, which helps homeless and isolated citizens care for their pets.

I’ve lived here for eight weeks now, but I’ve still barely scratched the surface of lovely surprises like this one. And in today’s letter, you’ll find two other hidden gems I discovered this weekend:

• 🌸 An urban oasis for peaceful reflection, and

• 📚 The city’s most awe-inspiring reading room.

Saturday promised to be 75 degrees Fahrenheit and sunny, and with the cherry blossoms blossoming, it was the ideal day to spend in a park—preferably one with lots of flowering trees. I took the Metro 10 line all the way to the end, to Boulogne-Billancourt and the Musée Albert-Kahn.

The Musée Albert-Kahn’s Archives of the Planet

Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t visit a museum if you were looking to enjoy the fresh air, but the Musée Albert-Kahn is a unique place.

Albert Kahn was a banker whose world travels inspired him to deploy his wealth in two unusual ways: by commissioning a global photography project called the Archives of the Planet, and by turning his four-hectare estate into an urban oasis with several distinct styles, from English and Japanese gardens to a tree-lined path inspired by the Vosges forest.

I’ve loved almost every aspect of city life in Paris, but until I spent an afternoon reading on various park benches throughout the Musée Albert-Kahn’s gardens, I didn’t realize how much I’d missed nature: birdsong, the fluttering pink flowers of the sakuras, and even the fat, lazy koi drifting through the zen garden’s pond.

There are plenty of green spaces dotted throughout central Paris—parks and public squares were a big part of Baron Haussman’s mandate, after all—but I relished this off-the-beaten-path destination so much that I’m planning a return visit.

On Sunday, I had to get down to work.

The first draft of our creativity project was coming due: two original recipes, an ingredient list, and a breakdown of our workflow and planned timeline. My own documents still had quite a few details missing.

Feeling cooped up in my tiny apartment and uninspired by its lack of natural light, I decided to find a better place to work. Enter: the Bibliothèque Nationale de France à Richelieu.

As I stuffed my laptop into my backpack and tried to figure out which bus line would get me there, I almost abandoned my plans; it certainly would’ve been easier to stay home. That nagging thought persisted as I went through security, and even as entered the gorgeous Salle Ovale reading room, as it seemed that every other student in Paris had the same idea. Every open desk and chair was already claimed.

But after a minute or two of patience, I snagged a perch, and my next two hours of work were vastly more focused and efficient than four would’ve been at home. (I chalk it up to the extremely inspirational domed ceiling.) With each passing minute in this gorgeous space, I became even happier that I’d made the effort.

The next time I have a school or writing project to work on—or the next time I want to curl up with a novel on a rainy day!—you’ll find me tucked into one of these cozy red chairs, basking in sunlight that’s been filtered gently through stained glass.

And with that, it’s back to the (fabulous) grind. I’ll be back with another baking school recap on Friday!

Warmly,
Maddie

Breakfast Club is a newsletter about pastries with a side of personal growth, from an ex-financial planner turned baker. If you savored this edition, click the ❤️ (or share with a friend!) to help new readers discover it—and subscribe to get each letter fresh from the oven.