Leaving Paris Before Paris Wakes

 Leaving Paris Before Paris Wakes

This morning began in darkness. I was up early, packed, and saying goodbye to my Paris room while much of the city was still asleep. There is something completely different about Paris at this hour. The streets that had been filled with pedestrians, café tables, shoppers and conversations only hours earlier were quiet and nearly empty.

Outside Le Relais des Halles, the warm lamps of the hotel glowed against the dark façade. A taxi waited at the curb, and within minutes I was on my way to Charles de Gaulle Airport. The nighttime streets gave me one final view of Paris, illuminated by streetlights and storefronts, with relatively few businesses open and remarkably little traffic.

That lack of traffic made the trip wonderfully easy. No crawling along the périphérique. No worrying about whether I had allowed enough time. Paris simply slipped past the windows as we headed toward the airport.

The Mystery of the €65 Taxi

I had it in my head that the taxi fare to Charles de Gaulle would be about €60, so I was a little surprised when the charge was €65. I wondered whether the rates had changed.

They have, but there is another important detail.

For 2026, official Paris taxis charge a fixed fare between Paris and Charles de Gaulle Airport: €56 from the Right Bank and €65 from the Left Bank. The same rates apply in either direction. 

Since Les Halles is on the Right Bank, the standard direct taxi fare should ordinarily be €56, not €65. However, taxis are allowed to add a €4 immediate-reservation fee or €7 advance-reservation fee.  So depending on how my taxi was arranged, a reservation supplement could explain at least part of the difference. It was interesting enough that I made a mental note of it. Even something as ordinary as a taxi ride becomes part of the travel story.

Terminal 2E

I arrived at Terminal 2E with plenty of time. Checking in was straightforward, and then came the inevitable airport procession: documents, lines, immigration and security. Fortunately, because I had arrived so early, the immigration lines weren’t particularly long.

And then came one of the essential components of any early-morning airport departure:

Coffee.

I stopped at PAUL and ordered an Americano along with a broccoli quiche. It seemed appropriately French for my final breakfast here. A warm savory quiche and a strong cup of coffee were exactly what I needed after leaving the hotel before the city had properly awakened.

Sitting there at Charles de Gaulle, the trip began to feel different. For days I had been exploring, photographing, noticing tiny details, wandering streets, discovering villages, writing stories and collecting memories. Now I was sitting in an airport terminal with my coffee, watching other travelers begin journeys while mine was beginning its final chapter.

There was no dramatic farewell to Paris this morning. Instead, Paris gave me something quieter: dark streets, glowing lamps, an almost traffic-free ride through a sleeping city, and one last French breakfast before boarding my flight.

Sometimes that is the loveliest way to say au revoir.

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