mouffetard.
Once upon a time, we were in Provo, having just graduated from BYU and made the decision to move to Paris for Freddy to attend grad school. One of the big things on our to-do list was to find an apartment/studio in Paris to live in. It needed to check all the requirements: not too far from Freddy's school, within the ward boundary we were hoping to be in, not too small, have a real bed (rather than a sofa bed), have a decent kitchen, preferably be on the first or second floor (a lot of Paris apartment buildings don't have elevators), be in a good neighborhood, and of course, it needed to fit within our budget.
Freddy spent hours finding available apartments that fit what we were looking for. We looked over them together, even prayed about the ones we liked, and went ahead and made some offers for the ones we felt strongly about.
Again and again, the rental agents would respond and let us know that they apartments actually weren't available, despite them being listed as available online.
Finally, we found a place that was absolutely perfect: it was the least expensive of the apartments we were interested in, it was beautiful inside, it was in a fantastic part of Paris (just 10 minutes away from the Eiffel Tower), it was on the first floor, etc, etc. We could find no fault in this apartment.
So, we took a leap of faith and contacted the rental agent. It was available! We signed the contract and couldn't believe how lucky we were. We totally scored.
Fast forward several weeks. One week before leaving for Paris and in the middle of my family reunion, Freddy gets an email from the rental agency. They had inspected our apartment. Turns out there was a severe water leak, making the space unlivable due to mold. We had to find another apartment with days to spare.
That night, Freddy frantically looked for other apartments that fit what we wanted in an apartment. He found a few. We weren't necessarily crazy about them and they were more expensive than the one we initially signed for, but at this point, we were desperate. So we went for it.
We got an apartment, not knowing much about it beyond the necessities. We arrived in Paris, checked in, and began our new life here.
It didn't take long at all for us to completely fall in love with our street: Rue Mouffetard. Turns out it's a well-known street for its village feel and its fantastic array of bakeries, fishmongers, and crêperies among other things (Ernest Hemingway wrote about it—that's how magical it is). It's quiet, it's homey, and it's absolutely perfect for what we need. And we had no idea prior to our arrival. We've spent some time in the other neighborhood we would have lived in and almost right away it was pretty clear to us that it just wasn't quite the right fit.
Sometimes your apartment falls through one week before you move out of the country. And sometimes it's for the better. God is good, my friends. God is good.
Some photos in celebration of the wonderful twist of fate that brought us our beloved apartment and neighborhood:
La vie en rose, no? We feel so blessed to be here and to be in such a magical part of Paris. And it's a testament to the fact that no matter how much we think we know, God always knows far better what we truly need.
Freddy spent hours finding available apartments that fit what we were looking for. We looked over them together, even prayed about the ones we liked, and went ahead and made some offers for the ones we felt strongly about.
Again and again, the rental agents would respond and let us know that they apartments actually weren't available, despite them being listed as available online.
Finally, we found a place that was absolutely perfect: it was the least expensive of the apartments we were interested in, it was beautiful inside, it was in a fantastic part of Paris (just 10 minutes away from the Eiffel Tower), it was on the first floor, etc, etc. We could find no fault in this apartment.
So, we took a leap of faith and contacted the rental agent. It was available! We signed the contract and couldn't believe how lucky we were. We totally scored.
Fast forward several weeks. One week before leaving for Paris and in the middle of my family reunion, Freddy gets an email from the rental agency. They had inspected our apartment. Turns out there was a severe water leak, making the space unlivable due to mold. We had to find another apartment with days to spare.
That night, Freddy frantically looked for other apartments that fit what we wanted in an apartment. He found a few. We weren't necessarily crazy about them and they were more expensive than the one we initially signed for, but at this point, we were desperate. So we went for it.
We got an apartment, not knowing much about it beyond the necessities. We arrived in Paris, checked in, and began our new life here.
It didn't take long at all for us to completely fall in love with our street: Rue Mouffetard. Turns out it's a well-known street for its village feel and its fantastic array of bakeries, fishmongers, and crêperies among other things (Ernest Hemingway wrote about it—that's how magical it is). It's quiet, it's homey, and it's absolutely perfect for what we need. And we had no idea prior to our arrival. We've spent some time in the other neighborhood we would have lived in and almost right away it was pretty clear to us that it just wasn't quite the right fit.
Sometimes your apartment falls through one week before you move out of the country. And sometimes it's for the better. God is good, my friends. God is good.
Some photos in celebration of the wonderful twist of fate that brought us our beloved apartment and neighborhood:
Freddy leaving our apartment for his intensive French course!
I can make a baguette last for three days. It requires a lot of restraint.
This guy can frequently be found singing on the street corner.
(When this was taken, he was singing "Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard" by Paul Simon.)
Happening night life (but not too happening).
Super high class pastries just down the street from us! So devilishly good.
Views from our neighborhood.
The Panthéon is a short walk from where we live! Still have yet to go inside.
This is my extremely satisfied face.
Not to mention several cool, old churches (such as the one this man is photographing).
And last but not least, our apartment is just a 20-minute walk to my favorite place in all of Paris: Jardin du Luxembourg.
(I don't look super happy here, but I definitely was.)
Couldn't not photograph this man as I was walking past...
This is heaven right here.
La vie en rose, no? We feel so blessed to be here and to be in such a magical part of Paris. And it's a testament to the fact that no matter how much we think we know, God always knows far better what we truly need.
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