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Trip Report Paris solo then with my daughter

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After months skimming through pages and pages of the Fodor's Europe section, our trip has come and gone. A warm and resounding thank you for all the trip reports, questions asked and questions answered. I am one of the readers who benefited substantially without posting my own questions because everything I needed to know were already covered. So for that, thank you to all the very knowledgeable Paris posters. This trip report is for you and for like-minded readers. I traveled to Paris with my nine year old daughter to meet her dad who was there on business. He reserved an extra week to spend touring with her, something he had always promised he would do when she turned ten. He sometimes breaks promises but very rarely disappoints her. This was my daughter's first time in the City of Light and the week she looked forward to forever. It was my second time and I've lost count how many times he's been. The plan was to meet us at the airport where I would hand her off to him for seven days. She would return and spend three days with me then we'd take the train to London for two more days before flying home to San Francisco. The flight from SFO to CDG was smooth and with not much commotion. Lily watched the Smurfs on my laptop then passed out for pretty much the entire time. I switched reading between Sandberg's controversial Lean In book and three US magazines. I can never sleep on planes no matter what I take or what I do. When we arrived at the airport, he was already waiting with a huge smile on his face. She was so happy to see her daddy that from that moment on, I was like dirt in the air who no longer existed. He had a black car waiting for us and they dropped me off in front of my hotel in the Marais. She gave me a big hug and he kissed me on the cheek. I could feel the tears slowly swelling so I wasted no time telling them to have a great week together and briskly walked inside the hotel before anyone suspected. All I heard were giggling and laughing on the sidewalk until the large hotel door shut behind me. As soon as I got to the lobby I went straight to the bathroom where I cried myself in the stall. It was so emotional for me and keeping them from seeing any of my mess made it even worse. I got to my room, ordered a bottle of really good champagne and told myself to get it the hell together. After eleven years since my honeymoon, I was back in Paris but this time I was completely and utterly alone. But as an exhausted single mom for several years, a big part of me was dancing and screaming --- Finally!!!

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