Olivia Potts' Pastry Pilgrimage To Paris

Olivia Potts was a successful criminal barrister for five years before the tragic death of her mother caused her to quit her job and retrain as a cordon bleu pastry chef. Her moving memoir, A Half Baked Idea is currently storming the charts and winning hearts. Exclusively for GLAMOUR, Olivia goes on her first-ever solo holiday to the birthplace of pastry: Paris.

I’m sat alone on a Eurostar speeding towards Paris, feeling both giddy and nervous. Realising I had somehow got to 32 without ever traveling by myself - this was my first ever solo trip. And it had to be Paris; studying pastry for a year at Le Cordon Bleu, after ditching my former career as a barrister -heading to the homeland of cake was a trip I had to do alone.

The most thrilling aspect of travelling alone is that you can do – or not do – whatever you want. My husband, Sam, who I’ve left at home with our little dog, likes his holidays to be tightly scheduled, taking in at least three museums and two local sites per day. I do not. I like to watch the world go by, with a book and a coffee, or a glass of wine. This is my opportunity to be entirely selfish, to do things anyone else would find at best eccentric or, probably, boring. I can't wait.

On arrival, I check in to the achingly cool and very friendly Le Pigalle, near Montmartre, dropping my bags where I stand in my enormous room (no husband to roll his eyes at my mess), starfishing on the giant bed, excited to do- or not do- whatever I wanted.

Because on this trip: I had a mission – and not a mission that non-pastry obsessives would be likely to embrace. I head out in search of patisseries: at Du Pain et des Idées, I inhale a chocolate and pistachio escargot. Then I head to another patisserie. And another. I seek out the best macarons and vienoisserie, paris-brests and petits-gateaux. I stand in the cool, dark confines of no fewer than four separate chocolateries, breathing in the cocoa air. And then I walk for an hour in pursuit of a particular brand of fancy French butter. Yes. Butter.

That night, I eat at Mama Shelter Paris East. I sit on the roof terrace in glorious sunshine, while couples and friends take endless selfies around me. I feel a little lost on my own. But the realisation that I don’t have to share my bread, butter or pickles with anyone else is fortifying. I relax, sipping my very cold wine, and eavesdrop and daydream. I start to feel less lost and more liberated.

The next morning, after a leisurely start, I head into the centre of town. Alone, I don't feel the need to tick off the Paris big-hitters. At first it feels illicit to just wander through the tuileries slowly, like I'm wasting my time in this city. And then it feels delicious: I celebrate with an ice cream cone as big as my head. For lunch, I take my time, and eschew a balanced meal that won't weigh me down in the afternoon in favour of a giant cheeseboard.

In search of the most traditional French restaurant I can find, I head to Le Cave d’Os a Moelle. Here I experience solo travel on another level: I’m the only person in the whole place. My initial awkwardness is soon set aside when the food appears. I am not disappointed: it’s the most French meal I’ve ever eaten: celeriac remoulade, braised rabbit, veal stew, ratatouille, three different cheeses, and so many puddings I lost count.

All too soon, my first-ever solitary jaunt is over. I’m sat in the swanky Business Premier lounge of the Gare du Nord Eurostar, nursing a beer, and knocking mini-saucissons back like Smarties. Now, I have a different question in my head.

When can I do it again?

A Half Baked Idea: How grief, love and cake took me from the courtroom to Le Cordon Bleu is published by Fig Tree on 25 July

Want to travel like Olivia?

The Journey

Eurostar
Eurostar beats plane travel hands down. Not only is it cheaper (hi there £29 starting point) and better for the planet (hooray!) it is also far less hassle than long queues and unnecessary extra baggage charges, and it takes you from one city centre to another. The design of the interiors and ergonomic reclining seats are down to the same Italian design house that styles Ferrari (swanky!) and you can even get free WIFI and Amazon Prime onboard. Plus, with a Premier ticket you get access to the lounges at both St Pancras and Gare du Nord; with comfy sofas, a wide selection of international papers and magazines, a sterling food buffet and, of course, free-flowing booze.

The Hotel

Le Pigalle
The vibe: cool, sexy- make that VERY sexy. It is nestled in the trendy and artistic Pigalle district of Montmartre. Rooms are eclectically decorated with pre-mixed cocktails and saucy pictures; a testament to the after-hours cheekiness of its Montmartre locale. The bar is buzzy, the food is delicious- and locally sourced- and the crowd is as cool as the hotel. It's a true Parisian gem; in the perfect neighbourhood for daytime strolls and night-time naughtiness.

The Restaurant

Mama Shelter
Set in the Shoreditch of Paris which is- yes- in the east, Mama Shelter is achingly cool, nestled in one of Paris's most overlooked, yet fascinating cornersActually a sleek, 17- room hotel, its the fabulous rooftop bar and fun, delicious dining that attracts a young party scene, that and their sumptuous BBQ food and mezcal negronis...

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