Getting there was another story. We flew with a budget airline whose staff walked up and down the boarding queue looking for anyone with hand luggage that was too big. (Which was better than the airline making the announcements asking passengers to volunteer to check in hand luggage or hand luggage would be randomly checked in.)
To check into our accommodation we had to ring a contact who would tell us the exact address where we would meet him. We arrived in Paris with no mobile phone (long boring story) so I asked a woman at Orly airport information desk if she could tell us where the public phones were. She was very kind and rang the accommodation contact for me. We then went to the taxi rank where we were given priority for a taxi because we had a child with us! The taxi drove us along crowded freeways and through the beautiful inner suburbs of Paris where we sighed with joy at the elegant architecture.
However our leaving was not without drama. As we did not have a phone I decided to go to the taxi rank at St Paul Metro station that was five minutes walk away. The taxi driver asked me to direct him to Rue des Rosiers. I felt like laughing at the idea of me being able to navigate all the one way streets. Any wise driver consults a map in this circumstance. Not this driver. He got lost in one way streets and finally I got the map from him and tried to direct him to our street, but not without him needing to drive backwards up a one way street. I was very relieved when we got to number 40 where E was playing ukulele as he waited with Sylvia and our suitcases. I was sad to leave but hope maybe to return to Paris some day.