It's 9am in Paris on a Wednesday. I'm sitting on the balcony of the apartment we rented, a spot high enough to allow my eyes to skim over the curved blue rooftops of the Parisian row houses, their balconies green with over-grown gardens. The Bastille Monument is also in view and beyond it, the Pantheon. And, with my head tilted at just the right angle, I can see the top of the Eiffel Tower. It's my last morning in Paris, and in France, but that's okay. I'm ready to go. Too much of a good thing spoils the pleasure of it and it has been a truly pleasure-full week.

I’ve had seven days in France, bookended by this city. I’m still amazed that this trip even happened. A miracle, of sorts. Arranging the schedules and budgets for a ladies’ trip for seven women living scattered across the country and with one even on the other side of an ocean felt like an impossible task. But like magic, it happened.

I landed first, spending a morning in Paris on my own wandering through Jardin du Luxembourg and the markets near Saint-Sulpice as I waited to be joined by Loni, then Aimee. It was just the three of us on that first night in Paris and as luck or serendipity or coincidence would have it that night also happened to be the Fete de la Musique – a festival which takes over the streets of Paris each year in celebration of the Summer Solstice.

And for this Summer Solstice, Paris was HOT. Unbearably so. Record breaking, dehydrating, we left our Airbnb to instead book a hotel with A/C kinda hot. The heat was more oppressive than inviting or holding, it was just – Hot. But the whole experience was a mix of magnificent misery, because here we are, sweating, melting, drinking some unknown version of pink cocktail during one of the “Happiest Hours” at a bar in Le Marais and yet, here we are. In Le Marais drinking a version of pink cocktail during one of the “Happiest Hours” at a bar in PARIS. So, heat be damned because we are here.

Walking through the streets that night was electric. Every block offered a different sound – in some places a church choir, others a drum line, or a violin or a salsa band or rock music or a DJ... and in front of each were people singing along, dancing along, admiring.

And the canal, the canal was not just lined with people, but the edges were so filled that the canal itself looked empty compared to the rush of humans surrounding it. Booze was, of course, flowing as well. One celebrator – enticed, but I imagine also eager, back flipped from a bridge into the canal causing eruptions and cheers from the surrounding crowds. Throughout the city there was a feeling of freedom. A sense of celebration so true and wild, I’m not sure I had yet felt anything quite like it. There was a confidence in the celebration, a sense that this was not a privilege, but a right. I would later experience that same electricity in Pamplona, during the San Fermin Festival, but up to that point that was the first time I’d ever felt such tangible merriment at such a large scale.

The setting sun and evening hours offered no respite from the heat. Having met up with some locals, we wandered with them from Le Marais across the Canal St. Martin, down side streets and up hills until we found ourselves at Café Clochette. A restaurant set on what would normally be a quiet neighborhood corner near a hospital garden that night featured a DJ playing hits from the 90s – Britney, TLC, Warren G. We sat down for dinner and, being the only non-French speaker, I am quiet, but I'm enjoying myself. When, occasionally, the whole table bursts into song, screaming the lyrics to an N’Sync or Spice Girls hit, I finally join in, singing along.

The next day Jackie and Rebecca arrived. After a lunch of steak frites we boarded the TGV to Aix-En Provence, where we would spend the next five days. At dinner that night, pulling her suitcase along the cobbled streets through the town’s main square as we were eating our dinner al fresco, came Heather. Our gaggle of seven was nearly complete. After staying up until 2 am catching up over wine on the roof terrace that overlooked the square, we finally slept and when we woke the next day, Kerri was there. Our group was complete.

We spent that week in Aix, staying up late, drinking too much wine, frolicking (literally) in fields of lavender and deciding on a whim to visit Cannes, before returning to Paris for one more night in the City of Lights and going our separate ways.

Back in Paris, we celebrated the end of our trip with dinner at Septime. Then at midnight, followed by (and fueled by) a few specialty cocktails and shots of Fernet-Branca at The Red House, six of us set out on bikes. We rode from The Bastille, through the streets of Paris, past Notre Dame, and along The Seine with one goal - to see the Eiffel Tower sparkle. At 12.57 we turned down the Pont Alexandre III just in time for the last light show of the evening. On the right bank, a group of Jazz musicians were playing, surrounded by a cluster of dancers and merrymakers - the perfect accompaniment to our view. And then exactly at 1am, the tower began to sparkle as the surrounding city lights went dark.

It was one of those magical Parisian nights. The kind of night you never imagine will happen, but could only happen here.

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Here are some of my favorite spots as well as some recommendations from my most recent trip, better for if you’ve been to Paris before or are looking for something away from the crush and crowds. My best advice, however, is to simply wander down side streets, find a café or a gallery or a market and let Paris happen.

Food / Drink:

· La Fontaine de Belleville. An adorable coffee shop that also serves food, this is the place to sit and write or relax for a while. When you’re done, walk down through the 11th Arrondisement to explore an edgier side of Paris. You’ll discover graffiti, vintage shops and more café’s then you’ll know what to do with.

· Le Comptoir Général, located right on the Canal St. Martin, this restaurant / bar is hidden behind a gate and long passage way

· Café Des arts et métiers – a typical Parisian café located across from a park and museum. A great place to sit outside, particularly during their happy hour.

· Septime. If you go, be sure to follow their booking guidelines and book three weeks out. This meal is one of the best meals I’ve ever had and I very highly recommend it.

· Septime Cave. Located across from Septime, if you are unable to get a reservation there head over to this wine bar. They serve meats and cheese and give the orange wine a try.

· Saint-Régis. Located on the Île Saint-Louis, I recommend going in the morning for the petit dejeuner for a quiet breakfast with a view of Notre-Dame.

· The Red House. My friend Kerri introduced me to this bar a few years ago, it serves up some amazing cocktails as well as some Tex-Mex themed food.

· Le Siffleur de Ballons. A cozy restaurant located in a wine shop with delicious food, one of my favorite placese to eat in Paris.

Gardens / Museums:

· Jardin Anne Frank. Located near Le Centre Pompidou, this garden is slightly hidden and a quiet respite from the crowds in Le Marais.

· Jardin Du Luxembourg. My favorite Parisian park. Be sure to wander through the surrounding streets to find bookshops, antiques and stop by the market in the square in front of Église Saint Sulpice.

· Musée National Picasso & Musée Rodin. Hands down two of my favorite Parisian museums and with smaller crowds. I

· Musée D’Orsay & Musée de L’Orangerie. If you are on museum alley, while the Louvre is, of course, a hot spot – I would recommend (and personally prefer) the Musee D’Orsay. This museum is full of turn of the century impressionist work and of a much more manageable size to take in. The Musee de l’Orangerie, is where you want to be if Monet is your jam. A truly stunning, all-encompassing experience of his water lilies.

· Le Centre Pompidou. Every time I visit Paris there is an exhibition here worth seeing, covering all types of art from the 20th and 21st Centuries.