Mom-Daughter Parisian Time Machine

The last time Daphne and I toured Paris together was April 1985. She was eight years old, dressed in Oshkosh denim jumpers and Raggedy Ann socks that elicited smiles from fellow travelers on the RER. Last month I was elated to see Facebook pics my daughter and her husband posted on their first trip to Paris as a couple.

For a long time I ruled out returning to Paris on the grounds that it’s too expensive -- given the present value of the U.S. dollar. But about ten days ago I changed my mind. Chalk it up to my feelings of nostalgia evoked by seeing Meryl Streep playing Julia Child overjoyed by the sight of French food markets. Or Daphne and Etan’s vacation pics.

My daughter and I will be going to Paris for a week in January. At this point in her life, Daphne has already been there six times and knows a lot more about the practical details of international travel than I do. Etan’s formidable consumer tech expertise is also a boon to planning. So I handed my credit card info over to my daughter and put her in charge of booking flights and a hotel in the Marais.

My husband, Dennis, has put his blessing on the trip. He has also warned me not to try to relive the three trips to Paris when Daphne’s dad was invited as a guest of the Institut des Hautes Études Scientifiques, and she and I got to tag along.

Those were glory days in our lives and this trip in January will be a different but equally special experience. In a curious reversal of roles, Daphne has told me that I’ll enjoy Paris more with less – at least as far as luggage goes. Following the Rick Steves model, she travels with just a carry-on suitcase, allowing her to take public transportation between airport and hotel.

My daughter’s dictum made me anxious enough to attempt a dress rehearsal last night. Modifying her instructions so I could try for a bit more, I was able to squeeze four pair of jeans, seven turtlenecks, one sweater, one pair of comfortable shoes, seven sets of underwear and socks -- along with a pair of ski pajamas and a belt into a carry-on. That left just enough room for my Nikon SLR inside a camera bag that will double as a purse.

I’ve sacrificed the running shoes and exercise clothes I’ve always packed. Please tell me I’m not just rationalizing when I say that Daphne and I will walk enough to burn off all the calories we plan to consume.

On the other hand, my daughter has suggested that I take my Macbook. She’s absolutely correct in thinking I’ll want it for dumping digital photos, posting Facebook updates, and doing research on places we may decide to visit spur of the moment. I’m praying the hotel really has free wi-fi.

The Macbook will fit in my Timbuk2 bag. I hate squeezing liquids into those tiny bottles, but I’ll do it because if I don’t, I’ll need the giant check-in suitcase that Daphne says is not my friend. After reading Etan’s recent article about using one’s iPhone as a navigational device – made easy by a short-term international data plan – I wondered about the trusty old Plan de Paris par Arrondissement: Paris Street Guide by District.

My daughter says she has the Plan, and it’s still a good idea in case technology disappoints. Bon voyage to us!

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