I wake in the twin bed at the Hotel Passy Eiffel, feeling both delicious and destroyed. The crease in the pillow next to me reminds me that something special happened last night, but the small (so very French 1920ish!) room is vacant except for me.
The mornings sun has begin to creep through the sliver left in the blackout curtains, as I run my hands through my hair. I reach for the hotel phone to order coffee and chocolat croissants, and my cell buzzes...it's you.
It's sixty-two steps from the reception desk to the fourth floor. The beautifully appointed spiral staircase is my preferred mode of up-and-downs (there is a five-by-five lift, but I only used this for luggage). I mentally measure the time till my continental breakfast is to arrive.
Opening the French Windows and sitting on the sill just above the antiquated radiator (I just loved this feature!), the soft warm air in contrast to the cold of a March Parisian morning, I reply.
"You want chocolate in your croissants...of course you do."
"Oui, you know me so well."
From my vantage point, I can see Tour Eiffel, reaching above the limestone facade of the building lining rue Passy. I need a drink.
I never worry. Life has educated me. I'm never truly sad or disappointed, cause I have found that no matter what has happened to me on this journey, it seems that whatever comes next is better and/or more exciting. Life's trivial hardships have made me an eternal optimist. I am made of Teflon.
I picked Hotel Passy Eiffel solely because of location (the price was $180/night but I used points with Booking.com to score a four for three night deal). It's a cute boutique hotel situated in the heart of the 16th arr., just some fifteen minutes from Tour Eiffel and all that comes with that.
The rooms are smallish, but ample. The baths are well appointed and sufficient. I am in Paris with friends (I could go on and on but just look at the pics...that's the story).
Local Japanese restaurants are in abundance, and that fairs well with my crew.
This (as I have stated in a earlier review) is simply the best of neighborhoods.
There's a tap at the door and the Asian/French Porter/Restaurant manager/chef (I know, a real Jack of all trades, he and I actually made apple tarts together! Yeah, really.) enters with my tray. I slide him €10, as he really doesn't usually do this kinda thing and he smiles.
The real pleasure here is the front desk. The day manager is just so très agréable and helpful. She (I have her card somewhere!) could move mountains.
My friends text and say they are headed to the sunroom/garden then the buffet (€12). I say I'm set, and need to hit the shower before we head out.
I snap and post a few pics. We chat.
I am a man of infinity many weaknesses. Loyalty is not one of them. We were all pilgrims in a strange land, the Hotel Passy Eiffel made that all the more enjoyable. You made it memorable. I never forget.
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