Be in the trip, not running it.
Tell us what you're hoping to do, and someone who has actually walked these streets with a kid builds the day around it — what's realistic, in the right order, with backups for when the day turns. Not a list an app spits out in a minute, but a day that holds up when you're standing in it. You stop being the one glued to your phone — checking the map, reading reviews, working out where to go next. You get to be there.
The blog said see ten things. Nobody told you the tenth one is where the four-year-old lies down on the Louvre floor.
By the time you found somewhere, the hunger had already turned into a meltdown you can't reason with.
Three neighbourhoods, two metro changes, a stroller on the stairs. The day was a commute with sights attached.
It rained, the museum had a line, and there was no Plan B — so the whole afternoon unravelled.
A good family day isn't about doing less — it's about doing the right amount for your family, in the right order. One easy anchor or three ambitious ones; on foot or by taxi; gentle or full. We make the hundred small decisions before you're standing on a corner with a tired child, so the day flows instead of falling apart.
Type "Paris with a five-year-old" into an app and you'll get a tidy list in a minute. What it can't know are the small things that make or break a day — the ones you only learn by walking them, with a child, in the heat.
From the Saint-Michel fountain up to the Jardin du Luxembourg there's an incline — and in the heat and the noise, a five-year-old needs a break right there. So I build one in, with something to look forward to. No app knows that hill.
Too hot, or about to pour? The Musée de Cluny — the one with the medieval unicorn tapestries. Cool in summer, easy in the rain, and magic to a child. An app won't reach for it. I will.
Most Paris-with-kids guides online were written by a family who came once. I'm not visiting — I take my own daughter on these adventures at least twice a week, on purpose. And I've planned events for a living, so when a day goes sideways — it always does — I think on my feet. These are our streets. — SONIA
Every place in your day is one I've actually stood in — and recently. A few from the last two weeks.




This is the difference from a free app: someone was actually here, with a child, this month.
This is the whole method in one day: the anchor, the timing, the rainy swaps, the rescue route, even the grounding moments for when it tips. Read it, use it on your next trip, keep it.
It's the same care you get in a paid day — just one we made for everyone.
One easy anchor or three big ones — set to your goals, your child's age, and how much you want to walk or taxi. Sequenced so it still flows.
Meals are part of the plan, timed before the crash. The when matters more than the perfect where.
If the weather turns, you already have the indoor version — sorted by how much time you've got.
A low-energy rescue route for when it tips. Ending early on purpose beats ending in tears.
Every edited day comes with small, do-it-on-the-spot ways to bring a child (and you) back down — no supplies, no quiet room, just the street you're already standing on. Here are four from the Sailboat & Left Bank Day.
Crouch to their level. "Let's blow a boat all the way across the water." Big slow breath in through the nose, then a long, soft breath out — four times. The long exhale is what actually calms the body; the boat just gives it a reason.
A whispered hunt that pulls them out of the spiral: find 5 things you can see, 4 you can hear, 3 you can touch, 2 you can smell, 1 you love right now. Counting and naming settle a flooded nervous system better than "calm down" ever will.
Find a bench or one of the garden's free reclining chairs. Both of you, feet flat, press your feet into the ground three times like you're planting them. Then count pigeons — or count to ten in French. Bodies calm down faster when they feel the ground.
Most meltdowns are overwhelm — too many choices, none of them theirs. Hand one small choice back: "crêpe first, or carousel first?" Two options, both fine with you. The point isn't the snack. It's giving them the wheel for ten seconds.
Parent's reset, the one that matters most: your calm is the intervention. Lower your voice, slow down, and let the plan hold the timeline so you don't have to.
I've lived in Paris for fourteen years — and I've always loved to travel. Then I had my daughter, and discovered family travel is a completely different art.
For years, the planning was the trip. I'd spend months mapping where to go, and getting a little lost was the best part — wandering a city until I stumbled onto the thing I'd remember for years. Then I started travelling with my daughter, and that kind of wandering quietly stopped being possible. With a little one, the day runs on food, rest and timing — and "we'll figure it out when we get there" becomes a meltdown on a street corner.
So I went looking for help, and found the opposite. Every city had its endless lists of wonderful places — but none written for the age my child actually was, or where she was that month. Just more information, and more hours of it, until planning the trip felt like a second job on top of the one I already had. And we'd already spent a small fortune just to get there.
What I really wanted was someone who'd been there with a child, to tell me what was worth it and what to skip. Not forty options — one day that simply works. The money was never the hard part; the friction was. Taking that friction away, while leaving room to wander and discover on your own — that's the whole art of it. That's why I made City Story Club.
Every place is one I've checked. I never invent a café to fill a gap.
A blog can tell you where families go. It won't tell you what to skip, when to eat, how far is too far, or what to do when it rains. The value isn't more places — it's knowing which ones belong in your family's day, and which ones don't.
Start with the free Sample Edit. When you want one built around your trip, pick by how long you're in Paris.
Founding rates — these introductory prices go up after launch. It's a planned day you follow yourself — an edit you keep, not a concierge on call. Every paid edit includes a private map, realistic timing, a food safety net, a rainy swap, a rescue route, the grounding moments, and one round of refinements. Not included: live guiding, all-day texting, reservations, ticket booking, unlimited revisions.
Your whole trip, planned with me directly — every day mapped and sequenced, a 30-minute planning call to get it exactly right, and two rounds of changes. Still a trip you walk yourselves; we don't book or guide. For families who'd rather hand the whole thing over.
Practical notes for families who want Paris to feel realistic, not packed.
The front-door guide — turn fourteen tabs into days that hold up, with backups and what to skip.
Named anchors, routes and food timing — with a backup attached to every day.
One email with the free day, plus the occasional new edited day and the things I'd never put on a blog. No noise. Unsubscribe anytime.