The first of many flights went surprisingly well—though Pearson Airport can certainly test people’s optimism. The bag drop area was absolute chaos. They’ve replaced all the staffed counters with automated machines that scan and accept your luggage… except they only seem to work about 20% of the time. So we joined the long line of confused, mildly panicked travelers inching forward while machines blinked unhelpfully. Thankfully, we had time to spare, and eventually our bags were swallowed by the system.
The girls were buzzing with excitement but impressively focused. Izzy in particular strutted through security like she’d been doing it for years; one of the agents even commented that she seemed to know the routine better than most adults. We had hoped to spend the pre‑flight lull in a lounge, but the one we had access to was closed for maintenance. Instead, we wandered to a quiet burger spot tucked away from the main terminal and settled in for a calm meal before the big overnight flight.
Our Toronto–Paris leg is actually our second‑longest flight of the entire year—7.5 hours—one of the perks of traveling mostly eastward. When we checked in, we had a long debate about seating. The plane was in a 3‑4‑3 configuration, and we originally chose four seats together in the middle. At the last minute, though, we switched to two rows: window and aisle in each, hoping the middle seats would stay empty so we could spread out. Once they announced the flight was full, that dream evaporated. Still, the setup worked out well: with some swapping with those assigned the middle seats, Justin and Em sat in middle/ window with Izzy and I right behind them. And in the moments when Izzy kicked the seat in front of her, at least it was Em she was disturbing.
Fog delayed takeoff by nearly an hour, but the girls were happily absorbed in their tablets and didn’t notice. Dinner didn’t arrive until 9:30 p.m. Toronto time, and lights went out around 10:30. We had the girls pack away their screens and attempt sleep. Izzy managed a solid five hours; Em got about four and looked every bit the part of a tiny zombie as we deplaned. Izzy, meanwhile, popped up like a daisy—bright, chirpy, and ready to start her Parisian life immediately.
I briefly considered tackling Paris public transit right away—an hour and a half of trains to reach our Airbnb—but Justin wisely pointed out that navigating a new system with luggage and almost no sleep was not the moment to be ambitious. We grabbed an Uber instead and dozed our way through morning traffic, missing our first chance at catching glimpses of the Eiffel Tower.
Knowing our flight was originally supposed to land at 6 a.m., we had booked our Airbnb starting the night before. It was one of our better decisions. We tumbled out of the Uber, straight into the apartment, into showers, and a short nap—our first Paris reset.
One of the major reasons we picked Paris as our European stop was because we have friends here. So here’s to 10 days of exploring Paris, working on our French, and catching up with friends.