The day I forgot my passport

Paris Eiffel TowerI like making lists.

I make grocery lists, lists of conversation topics, and (most importantly) packing lists. I do it because I’ve left too many things behind: a razor, a jacket, a jar of coconut oil. So for my trip from Paris to New York, I made a 30-item packing list on my handy Reminders app and started my trip confident that I had everything.

That is, until the lady at the check-in counter asked for my passport.

In an instant, I realized that I was going to miss my flight, I was much less smart than I thought, and these list things weren’t all they’re cracked up to be.

But I had the slimmest of a chance: what if my flight were delayed? So while I stayed at the airport, doing my best to negotiate in French and figure out my options, Fred raced back to our apartment (a 50-minute train ride each way) to retrieve the only item that I absolutely needed to have. He knew exactly where it was: in his laptop bag, next to his own, right where he had put it when we were crossing over from London to Paris.

Of course, my negotiations were in vain – apparently a driver’s license or digital copy of your passport won’t do, and no, they won’t check in just your luggage without a passport. Fred showed up 5 minutes before my flight was supposed to leave, and I was given clear instructions to return at 7 am the next morning to get on the waiting list for a flight at 11 am, which was fully booked (as was the other flight that day). I only had three days in New Jersey before I had to fly to Vegas, so I was praying to the airline gods that I’d get a spot.

You’d think that was quite enough excitement for the day, thank you very much, but it didn’t end there.

At 7 pm, exhausted from an afternoon mostly spent at the airport, we decided to venture outside for dinner. As we were leaving the building, I turned to Fred and ask him if he had the keys to the apartment, which locks automatically when you shut the door. Can you guess what he said?

We called our Airbnb host, who sympathetically but firmly explained that there was nothing she could do – after all, we had requested to have her spare set of keys. The only solution was to visit a nearby cheese monger the following morning, who was holding onto keys for the landlord. I told her I needed to be at the airport at 7 am, and tomorrow morning wasn’t soon enough; we contemplated climbing up the building into our second-story window; I wondered how the heck to say “locksmith” in French, and whether anyone would possibly be open this late.

On the brink of utter frustration and exhaustion, I ran to the cheese monger to check if they were open – and they were, for precisely 25 more minutes. I had that much time to convince a stranger to give me a set of keys without authorization from the landlord, whom I couldn’t reach because I had no more phone credit to call my Airbnb host. Luckily, he took pity on me.

So the night ended in an unexpected place: not on a plane, but in Paris, at a little couscous restaurant, eating savory grilled chicken, lamb, and sausage. “I think this is our worst day ever,” said Fred. But he was grinning, not frowning. We were both exhausted, starving, and had wasted a lot of work time, but we still had a nice meal and we certainly didn’t hate each other.


When I arrived at the airport the next morning (bright and early), I was greeted with some good news: “We have an extra flight at 9 am today because one was canceled yesterday.” It took a few minutes before I realized what flight that was: my flight. This was confirmed by a fellow passenger, who explained that the plane had had mechanical problems. “Yesterday was a long day,” he told me. So it was – and if I hadn’t forgotten my passport, it might have been even longer.


The best-kept secret in Paris

In 1969, Paris’s Vincennes railway line was discontinued and the old tracks were suddenly rendered useless. No longer would the route, which wound through the 12th arrondissement, hear the cry of whistles or the chattering of passengers.

It left Paris with an eyesore, a little gray line on its map like a scar that wouldn’t fade. So in the 90s, the city decided to paint it green.

The Promenade Plantée, also known as the Coulée Verte, has turned the old railway line into a narrow three-mile garden similar to the High Line in New York City. It starts near the Bastille on a raised platform, literally cleaves apartment buildings, and descends below street level (with a roof of green foliage) near Nation. If you complete the walk, you’ll end up steps away from the Bois de Vincennes, a huge garden on Paris’s eastern edge.



If you think Paris is too urban or too dirty, an afternoon on the Promenade Plantée is like a trip to the countryside. The raised, western edge gives you bird’s eye views of the city and beautiful Parisian rooftops against fluffy white clouds.




Promenade Plantee

The Promenade Plantée actually passes through buildings.


In the middle, you head over a bridge and through the wide Avenue Vivaldi and a strange underpass that’s been decorated with waterfalls.





The lower, eastern edge reminds me of the woods in my suburban hometown: dark and moist, with rays of sunlight streaming through the trees. On the eastern entrance, the sign reads: “This space is for walking. Jogging is tolerated as long as it doesn’t disturb the walkers.”


Somehow, this park seems to be unknown except by locals (and some Germans). Even a few French people I asked didn’t know about it.

I spent my last morning walk on the Promenade Plantée, soaking up the combination of city and nature. This is the way I want to remember Paris: peaceful, beautiful, and one of a kind.


30 ways Paris is different from the US

For an American in Paris for three months, French life was completely different. You can’t do one huge grocery  trip per week, live with only one pair of sheets, or survive without a printer (if you want to eat cheaply). Here are 30 ways that Paris is (surprisingly) different from the United States.

In the streets

Yes, indeed, French people do eat baguettes while walking down the street (and working).

How to eat a baguette

People zip around the city on scooters – motorized and non-motorized.

Scooters in Paris

Many stores are closed on Sundays (and France’s numerous holidays).


Streets are filled with buttery, bready, sweet wafts of goodness emanating from boulangeries.


The city has installed urinals (with no doors) to keep the streets clean.

Urinals in Paris


Like Asians, French people aren’t afraid to see where their food comes from – eating whole fish and snails, and buying chickens with the heads still on.

Fish in Paris

French people don’t snack often; snacking in the afternoon is normally reserved for kids.

Instead of going to mega grocery stores, Parisians visit a combination of small shops: a grocery store, boulangeriefromagerie, boucherie, etc.

Boulangerie in Paris

When you enter and exit a store, you’re expected to say hello and goodbye to the shopkeeper.

Boulangeries sell not just the regular macarons we know in the US, but grand macarons.

Big macaron

Parisians like to pick up fresh meats, cheese, and vegetables at local markets, which take place throughout the week.

markets in Paris

Markets in Paris

Markets in Paris

Markets in Paris


There’s no tipping in Paris – but don’t worry, the prices make up for it. If you want, you can leave some spare change for particularly good service.

French people love terrasses, and they’ll huddle outside under heat lamps (often smoking) even when it’s cold.

cafes in Paris

The prices differ depending on whether you eat at the counter or sitting down (or, sometimes, even outside).


Wine is a staple with restaurant meals.

Wine for French meals

Rose sellers often come into restaurants and try to sell you a bouquet while you’re eating.

Groupons are available, but you’ll be forced to print them out and show them to the waiter.

Groupon in Paris

At sushi restaurants, you have a choice between salty and sweet soy sauce.


Paris’s excellent metro system makes getting anywhere in the city easy, although it’s hot during the summer.

Paris metro map

Paris holds auditions for metro musicians, who are allowed to play in the stations only. Any musicians you see on the trains are renegades.

Music in Paris metro

Homeless people often board the trains and give a speech about their unfortunate circumstances. Then they walk around the cars asking for some change or a ticket restaurant (a restaurant voucher that French people get from their employers).

Lots of young Parisians jump the gates to avoid paying the fares. Only some get caught by metro police, who periodically check your tickets.

Jump the gates in Paris

If you don’t want to use the metro, France’s bikshare program (called Vélib) is a good bet.

Velib in Paris

Apartment living 

Most apartments have no dryer, so you’re forced to deal with drying racks and the stiff, cardboardy-ness of line-dried clothes.

How to dry clothes in Paris

The refrigerators are miniature.

Refrigerators in Paris

To save space, designers have invented mechanized beds that raise up into the ceiling.

Apartment size in Paris

Health care

Doctor visits are cheap, like $30 for a consultation or $80 for an ultrasound.

There are few (if any) pharmacy chains; most are little shops run by friendly pharmacists who can make small diagnoses and recommend medications.

Pharmacies in Paris


France has long been converted to the euro, but receipts still show the price in francs.

Credit cards with chips are the norm; you’ll get funny looks or confused expressions about American swipe cards (although they do work).

Like this post? Check out Cafés in Paris.

10 cheap restaurants in Paris

If you’re looking for cafés, check out Cafés in Paris

Paris is expensive

Yet somehow, all the terrasses around the city are always packed with French people sipping wine and eating €28 meals. I think it has something to do with tickets restaurant, which are tax-deductible restaurant coupons that employers give their employees. If your office doesn’t have a cafeteria, you’re given one per day to (supposedly) use for lunch. Your company pays half, and the other half comes out of your pay.

As a foreigner not blessed with such an extravagant perk, you’ll have to search carefully for the deals in Paris. They do exist, and in 3 months staying there I found quite a few. Here they are.


Cafe L’Empire 

  • Dishes under €12
  • 17 rue du Bac (7th arrondissement)

Cafe L’Empire was our “cantine” in Paris, which means the neighborhood restaurant we went to all the time. Somehow, steps from the chic shopping district of Saint-Germain and the touristy Musee d’Orsay, this cafe is incredibly cheap. It’s usually not hard to get a table, and the woman behind the bar will greet you warmly. I recommend the duck confit.



  • Dishes for under €13.50
  • 7 rue du Faubourg Montmartre (9th arrondissement)

Chartier must be in some guidebook, because the line always extends out the door and down the street. But if you eat at a normal US dinner hour – say, between 6 and 7 pm – you should walk right in. The dishes are basic and French, like leeks with mustard dressing or steak tartare. They keep the prices down by making small groups share tables, so don’t go here for a romantic dinner.


Chartier Paris


Chez Gladines 

  • Dishes for under €14
  • 30 rue des 5 Diamants (13th arrondissement)

Recommended to me by multiple French people, Chez Gladines services cuisine from the Basque Country, an area overlapping Spain and France. If you’re feeling daring, order the escalope de veau montagnarde – which comes wrapped in bacon, stuffed with sautéed potatoes, and drenched in creamy mushroom sauce. Otherwise, even the salads are gigantesque. This restaurant gets busy so plan to arrive a little early. 

Chez Gladines

La Comète 

  • 2 courses = €14.50
  • 19 rue du Faubourg Montmartre (9th arrondissement)

Cute and modern, La Comète is a good option if the line at Chartier is too long. It’s just a minute or so up the street in the 9th arrondissement. Here, you can get a two-course formule – starter + main course or main course + dessert – for €14.50 (around $18.70, with no tax or tip), which is quite cheap by French standards. My favorite here is the Petite Auvergnate salad, which comes packed with cheese, pine nuts, a hard-boiled egg, sautéed potatoes, and lardons (essentially, tiny slices of thick bacon).





  • Buffet: €12
  • 6 rue du Petit Pont (5th arrondissement)

Aarapana competes with the other Latin quarter offerings by giving you a solid Indian buffet, including dishes with chicken, vegetables, palaak paneer, samosas, rice, and dessert. If you can stand the rich red and purple silk everywhere, you can’t go wrong here.


Sushi Magic 

  • Buffet: €17.50
  • 24 rue du Javelot (13th arrondissement)

At €17.50 ($22.75), this buffet isn’t exactly cheap – it’s the quality that’s standout. You could easily pay more for less (and worse) sushi elsewhere. Your options include various salmon rolls, veggie rolls, salad, skewers of meat and vegetables, and desserts. And, unheard of back in the US, this sushi buffet includes unlimited (salmon) sashimi.



Restaurant Sherton 

  • Dishes for €6
  • 84 rue du Faubourg-Saint-Denis (10th arrondissement)

Among the many cheap Indian restaurants in the 10th arrondissement, Sherton was the second we tried and the only one we went to from then on. Many of the dishes, from butter chicken to palaak paneer, cost €6. They’re a bit small, so go with a friend and order three.

Le Cambodge 

  • Dishes for €12 and under
  • 10 avenue Richerand (10th arrondissement)

I’m sad that I discovered Le Cambodge (and its sister, Le Petit Cambodge) so late in my trip, otherwise I might have gone there every weekend. The restaurant serves authentic and less authentic (but no less tasty) Cambodian dishes, their specialty being the bobun – a mix of rice noodles, lettuce, tender beef, crushed peanuts, bean sprouts, and a delicious sauce that costs only €10. They also have curries and soups, but the bobun was so good that I never tried them.

Le Cambodge

Middle Eastern 


  • Falafel for under €10
  • 8 rue Xavier Privas (5th arrondissement)

Moaz is one of many falafel places in the Latin Quarter, and it’s the only vegetarian restaurant on my list. I’m not big on dishes without meat, but I’ll make an exception for their great salad bar. You can grab a plastic bowl or a pita, then stuff it with as much marinated carrots, olives, cabbage, cucumbers, tomatoes, beets, and tahini as you can. The cashier will pop in three warm balls of falafel, and you’re on your way. Bonus points if you go eat this by the Seine river or under the shade of Notre Dame Cathedral.


Au Bon Couscous 

  • Dishes for under €12
  • 7 rue Xavier Privas (5th arrondissement)

There’s one tiny passage in the Latin Quarter that you can’t walk through without getting harrassed by hawkers – begging you to come in and try their couscous, Mexican, and French food. I hate being hustled, but our hunger drove us into one of two side-by-side couscous places, and I think it was the right one. We were served a huge platter of couscous, plates of meat, vegetables, and soup all for under €12. The first time, we got a free glass of kir (white wine plus cassis); the second time, they threw in a sweet mint tea at the end. Merci.

Paris restaurants Bon Couscous

Photos courtesy of Barbara, vous en dites plus (Chartier), Trip Advisor (Chez Gladines), (Moaz), and Vegan in Progress (Bon Couscous). All other photos by Kira Newman.