Just to be clear, it was entirely my fault.

In August 2021, we had a crazy summer involving moving and shipping our eldest off to university in the U.S. As the summer wound down, we wanted to squeeze in a final getaway before the rentrée in early September. So at the last minute, I planned a 4-day bike trip along the London-Paris Bike Path, or Avenue Verde London-Paris, as it is called on our side of the Channel.

Subscribe now

Never plan a bike trip at the last minute.

I tried to rapidly research the itinerary via the official website and various online forums for bike trips. Most of the information was rather general and no one could offer any specific guidance as to whether this route was suitable for two adults carrying packed saddlebags on their bikes and a teenager, all riding conventional bikes.

Spoiler alert: It was not.

At the time, it seemed doable considering our family had previously taken extended bike excursions in the Loire Valley and the Canal du Midi. Alas, there were several problems with the London-Paris route that were not obvious in advance.

First, I was naive about how long it would take to ride our bikes beyond the Paris metropolitan area. We had little desire to be stuck in an urban setting on bikes. Google Maps made it look like it would take an hour or so to reach the countryside. Nope. It took us 5+ hours before we were finally in something that resembled rural France. By then, any sense of fun had long since evaporated.

What would I have done differently? One can take the RER A to the furthest point west, Cergy le Haut. From there, it would have been about a 10-minute ride to the countryside. From roughly this point, it took us about 2 hours to ride the remaining 30km to our first B&B. This would have saved tremendous misery.

Second, there are two routes to take when leaving Paris. It was hard to get much information on what distinguishes one from the other. However, the Southern route is shorter, so I picked that one.

While the official site includes a guide to elevation along the routes, those numbers don’t quite capture the amount of climbing we would be doing regularly. Answer: A lot. Too much for two adults carrying overstuffed saddlebags. For most riders, this would be best done on e-bikes.

How did I screw this up so badly? Despite the charts, the severity and duration of these climbs were not clear until we were on the road. At which point, of course, we were already doomed.

This is Google Maps’ overall summary of our 4-day route:

Finally, the London-Paris Bike Path, at least on the French side, remains largely a dream, an idea for a bike path, but not one that exists in most places.

The project started more than a decade ago, but it would be generous to estimate that 15% of the path has been developed into a paved, dedicated bike path. The idea, as has been done elsewhere, is to take abandoned rail tracks and convert them to the bike path. The last 40km leading to Dieppe, the final stop on the French coast, is the longest stretch where this has been fully developed. There is also a 24.75km stretch from Chaussy to Gisors where a real path has been completed.

Otherwise, we were either riding on local roads with a decent amount of traffic or off-road into sometimes treacherous paths like this one:

But, Chris, did anything go right? Well, yes, thank you for asking.

While booking places to stay was a scramble, all four accommodations were delightful, and I would enthusiastically recommend all of them.

Here is an overview of our itinerary, with some of the actual highlights just to show that there were some amid the wailing and gnashing of teeth. (Note: All times include rest stops, breaks for meals, etc.)

Day 1: Saint-Germaine-en-Laye to Omerville

• 57.3 km

• 7h 44m (5+hours to escape the Paris Metro area)

Here we are at the start. The good vibrations did not last.

Vigny

Théméricourt

Omerville

La Musardine En Vexin: €68.64

Located in the Vexin Regional Natural Park, the owner Antonella introduced us to the local Vexin beer and ordered us pizzas, for which we were grateful.

Subscribe now

Day 2: Omerville to Gornay-en-Braye

• 57.6 km

• 7h 8m

There are 19km of a developed bike bath from Bray-et-Lu to Gisors, where the old railway has been converted. Then, lots of climbing on local roads.

Les Bordeaux de Saint-Clair

Gisours

Gornay-en-Braye

Maison d'hôtes Christiane Duvauchel: €122.40

Day 3: Gornay-en-Braye to Neufchâtel-en-Bray

• 44.4 km

• 4h 34m

This was perhaps the worst of the climbing. However, in the short sections where a path had actually been developed, we could catch glimpses of what the trail might look like one day when complete. We passed several old train stations like this one that had been redeveloped into restaurants, cafes, and cultural centers.

Manoir d'Aulage: €99.80 for 1 night

This felt decadent. We had a mansion to ourselves, right along the path.

Day 4: Neufchâtel-en-Bray to Dieppe

• 35.0 km

• 2h 53m

This is what we might call the fantasy section of the London-Paris Bike Path, at least for those like us who are traveling in this direction. It is entirely paved and downhill.

Mesnières-en-Bray

La Petite Maison Dans La Prairie

Dieppe

This is the end of the road. For those going to London, this is where to catch the ferry to pick up the trail on the other side of the Channel.

As for us, we were just relieved to have survived.

Villa des Capucins: €100.00

This former convent is in a local neighborhood, but feels like it’s miles from the city once inside the gates.

Le Turbot: €111.40

Our day — and trip — ended with dinner at Le Turbot, a restaurant a short walk from the Villa that our host had recommended.

After a miserable 4 days on bikes, we ate and drank like kings and felt like we had earned every bite.

Chris O’Brien

Paris, France

Visitors often take for granted the existence of so many architectural wonders they see in France. The fact that they have endured for centuries, and are now often maintained in almost pristine condition seems like a given.

A combination of the French government, private associations, and even a national lottery, raise and spend millions of euros every year to protect and preserve the nation’s patrimoine. So much is spent that I have tried to get a calculation of the total amount dished out by this vast preservation machine and no one seems to have any idea. Except that it’s a lot.

Subscribe now

It all feels so inevitable. Why wouldn’t a nation be proud of such works and do everything it can to ensure their vitality?

What’s less obvious is just how miraculous it is that so much does still exist. That existence is far more precarious than it would seem. To appreciate that, sometimes it’s helpful to visit a place where a once majestic château or cathedral has been erased.

Our family occasionally likes to go for walks about 15 minutes south of our apartment at the Domaine in Marly-le-roi. Back in the 17th century, King Louis XIV built a château and sprawling stables here as a little getaway north of Versailles and south of the château in Saint-Germain-en-Laye where he was born. A castle for every mood, I suppose.

But after the revolution, the structures were picked apart, bit by bit, by locals in need of metal and stones. We might fondly see an architectural and landscape masterpiece. But at the time, many looked upon this palace and just saw raw material for their fences or barns.

Today, there is only the barest hint of this history.

Saint-Cloud

On a recent weekend, my daughter and I visited the Domaine Nationale de Saint-Cloud. Perhaps real Parisians know about it, but still being relative newcomers to the North of France, I only stumbled across it randomly while looking for something else on the map.

Dropped into the sprawl west of Paris, there was this big green blob. So we decided to drive over and see what it is.

It turns out to be 1,110 acres of gardens and forest with a few historic buildings guarding the entrance, and perched on a plateau looking east across the Seine into Paris. It lacks greater notoriety, however, because the château that once dominated the land was destroyed (more on that below).

While it may not have the sex appeal of Versailles, we learned that far from being an obscure landmark, Saint-Cloud had long played a central role in some of the major events that marked the history of France.

The domaine’s story began in 1577 when wily Catherine de Médicis bought the Hôtel d'Aulnay on the plateau near the town of Saint-Cloud. As one does, she gave it to Jérôme de Gondi, an Italian banker from her hometown of Florence because he was extremely loyal to her. He began to construct a large house and gardens.

The late 16th century was the time of France’s big religious wars. King Henry III moved into Gondi’s shack as he prepared to liberate Paris from the extremist Catholic League. Instead, he was assassinated, and named as his successor a brother-in-law and distant cousin, Henry, the King of Navarre. The latter was a kingdom tucked between Southwest France and Northern Spain.

That turned out to be a big deal because Henry, who swung both ways on the Protestant-Catholic spectrum, eventually conquered France and became King Henry IV, the first of the House of Bourbon which was the dynasty that ruled France until the whole beheading episode. (Though they would make a brief comeback in the 19th century).

Fast-forward a couple of centuries, and the estate was expanded by a financial advisor to King Louis XIV and then eventually given to Louis’ brother, Philippe d'Orléans who oversaw the construction of a major château whose courtyard overlooked the Seine. The park grew to 988 acres, and he also built the Grande Cascade, which has managed to survive.

In 1785, Marie Antoinette took possession of the estate and continued to expand it (though she briefly considered scrapping the whole thing and starting from scratch).

Spoiler alert! Things did not go well for Marie and her hubby, King Louis XVI, and the château was briefly unoccupied.

But, a chippy fellow named Napoleon Bonaparte paid a visit to the orange groves (orangerie) at Saint-Cloud to plot the infamous Coup d'etat of 18 Brumaire where he overthrew the French government and established himself as dictator. It is considered the unofficial end to the revolution. It took the French a while to get a handle on the whole democracy thing.

The place had such fond memories for NB that he returned a few years later for the ceremony where he was appointed emperor in 1804. And that was such a kick that he came back 6 years later and married his 2nd wife there.

After Napolean, Saint-Cloud was kicked around a bit as France cycled through empires and then the restoration of the monarchy and then supplanting of the House of Bourbon with the House of Orléans and then another revolution and then the Second Empire. The 19th century was…tumultuous.

Those kings used Saint-Cloud as their summer home. And so did Prince Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte, nephew of Napoleon I. Like uncle, like nephew: the latest Bonaparte was elected president but then had himself declared emperor at Saint-Cloud: Napolean III.

Alas, Napolean got a little antsy and decided to declare war on Prussia, and in July 1870 he signed the war declaration at Saint-Cloud. Prussia pretty much routed the French, to the great surprise of the overly cocky French, and seized Saint-Cloud. French troops trying to retake Saint-Cloud, bombarded it and one of their bombs set off a fire that burned for a couple of days and devasted the chateau.

The ruins became a kind of pilgrimage site for wayward royals and artists. In 1891, the government had the ruins removed, a gesture intended to wipe clean some of the royal overtones.

It turns out, the Germans really had a whole thing about Saint Cloud. In World War II, the Wehrmacht occupied it, placed mines and barbed wire around it to secure the grounds, built watchtowers, and installed anti-aircraft batteries. They also turned a tunnel that had been built at the foot of the plateau into an arsenal for torpedos and mines. It would take years after the war for all of the barbed wire and concrete to be removed, and decades for the gardens and forest to be rehabilitated.

Subsequent planning decisions haven’t helped. Cars can drive through much of the park, with the toll that is charged being one of the principal sources of revenue to maintain the domaine. Another major road runs under the center of the grounds, and a local train runs along one side. Some of the land was also carved out to build sports areas for local schools, and other parts are rented out to private associations.

In 2013, the French government produced a scathing report describing Saint-Cloud as being in a state of crisis with no coherent plan for its development and a staff that was miserable due to poor working conditions.

Subscribe now

Still Standing

All of this may leave one with the impression that there is nothing much to see at Saint-Cloud. But despite the rough recent history, it has retained a degree of splendor. Starting near the entrance, there are some wonderful views of Paris.

There is a museum and the vast grounds and gardens offer numerous walks so you can be immersed in nature. We walked for 90 minutes and only covered a small piece of it. There is also a bike rental station.

As mentioned above, the ornamental Cascade is still there, but it’s also starting a four-year, €10 million renovation. So the water has been shut off for the foreseeable future.

Perhaps the other thing of note is that there are 6 restaurants on the grounds.

We ate at the L’Orangerie, which I presume is an hommage to Napolean. There is the fancy, sit-down side which serves +€25 plates like entrecôte and octopus. We just grabbed a couple of paninis and drinks from a takeaway stand, because we are basic like that.

Of course, the past is never dead in France, and there are still people who dream of seeing the Saint-Cloud Château rebuilt one day. The private association Reconstruisons Saint-Cloud is raising money to do just that. Estimated cost? €185 million.

And then there is this historian who has spent more than 10 years re-creating the château in virtual reality. If that doesn’t get you psyched for the metaverse, well, then…

For now, Saint-Cloud is still a great detour from the typical Paris tourist destinations. A sprawling royal park that offers an escape from urban life while doubling as a fancy French food court. We’ll be back to sample the other restaurants and walk the paths.

Chris O’Brien

Le Pecq

When I visited Lyon for the first time in January 2020, it was tempting to do nothing but eat my way across France’s third-largest city.

While it boasts plenty of cultural, historical, and architectural attractions, Lyon’s well-deserved gastronomic reputation means that a seductive plate of food seems to be calling out from every direction. The city has more than 4,000 restaurants and 19 chefs with Michelin stars.

During a long weekend in Lyon, I resisted that siren song as much as possible so I could explore the city. Eventually, I just gave in, and happily so. France’s food culture in general is such a profound and pleasurable sensory experience. Yet Lyon somehow manages to take that to new levels of joyfulnesses, a heightened conviviality, and a belief that eating is a kind of spiritual moment.

Unfortunately, a weekend was only just enough time to get the smallest taste of Lyon’s culinary might. Still, if you’re making your first visit, here’s my 48-hour itinerary.

Read more

From the archives: Our March 2018 trip from Toulouse to the Pyrénées for a winter escape.

With busy work schedules and kids’ activities, we had a hard time this year planning a weekend escape to the Pyrénées. Which was especially a bummer because the region was getting more snow than it had in several years.

But we finally managed to pull it off and headed to one of our favorite regions, the valley that leads to Loudenvielle. We stayed near Loudenvielle for our first trip up here in 2014. So this time we decided to make camp in a different town situated just to the west: Aulon.

From the highway, the drive took us up through a lovely little village called Arreau. It’s one of the larger towns in the region and a good place to stop and get yourself oriented. We paused there for lunch and walked around the town along the little river that divides it before hitting the tourist office.

From there, it was only about 45 minutes to our destination of Aulon, a small village set along the hillside. To our amusement, we realized that we had actually been here before back when we were first visiting the area in 2014. No matter. We had just passed through the last time.

This time, we booked rooms at the Chalet du Pic Noir, a gite in the center of town. (Note: tragically, the gite has since closed. Check out instead in Aulon the Gîte le pic d’Aulon run by Sandrine & Philippe Garnier.)

Because we booked last minute, the four of us shared a room, a chambre familiale, much to the consternation of the kids.

Overall, there are 10 rooms that can hold up to 34 people. The gite is under new management, and the owners (Damien and Myriam) were wonderful hosts, hanging out and singing songs, serving apero, and creating a nice atmosphere. During the three nights we stayed, we opted for breakfast and dinner, which included tartiflette and lasagne. It was all delicious and always a relief not to have to hunt around for a restaurant or cook ourselves.

The prices were also quite reasonable at €25 per person each night, or a total of €300. Each dinner was €12 per person, and breakfast cost €6.50.

Subscribe now

If there was one disappointment, it was that the copious amounts of snow had begun to disappear. We even had some snowfall several days before we arrived. There was enough so that the kids could still walk out of the village and find a place to go sledding, but just barely enough.

Meanwhile, the adults went for a gorgeous hike about one hour to the west straight out of the village.

Auberge Des Aryelets

We returned just in time for our reservation at the main restaurant in Aulon: Auberge Des Aryelets. It’s still one of the more remarkable things about France and the Pyrénées that one can find a restaurant of this caliber tucked into a tiny village. But there it was, and we feasted like royalty.

Read more

(Don’t forget to check out Part 1 of this trip here)

Day 3

The following day promised to be fairly easygoing. Only 9 km to our next destination. But if there is one part I would do differently, it was probably this stretch. There were multiple choices in terms of directions, and we opted to take one through the town of Charge. Alas, this included a drop of about 40 meters, and then a rather steep climb back up those 40 meters.

Still, we survived and arrived at Chateau de Clos Luce, still in mostly good humor.

The brick and freestone architecture was a very different look from anything we had seen up to that point. (Cost: €43 for 5 tickets.) But its claim to fame is that Leonardo da Vinci spent the last three years of his life here. The surrounding park is named for him and the chateau has a collection of various scientific gadgets from the era and holds various workshops and cultural events throughout the year.

For lunch, we exited the grounds and walked directly across the street to a little restaurant called Le Maitre d’Art. We were lucky to get squeezed in and ordered a mix of quiches, charcuterie, soup, and salad that were delicious and satisfying. (Cost for lunch for 5: €88.)

Read more

A 4-day bike ride through France’s famed Loire Valley promised to be a big adventure for our family. Though we are all bike riders to some measure, we had never done a tour like this with our two teenage children.

Fortunately, the Loire Valley offers moderately easy terrain, spectacular views, an embarrassment of castles, and the good food you’d expect from this region. While there are countless companies that will book the whole tour for you, we opted to cobble together our own route and accommodations. For those who wish to follow in our wake, here is our itinerary.

Subscribe now

Day 1

We started off in the town of Blois, where we parked our car for the weekend in an underground garage. (cost: €27). From there, we walked to Detours de Loire, where we had reserved bikes for four days for five people (our nephew Peter had flown in to join us).

Five bikes, helmets, packs, and emergency kits cost us €430. The nice thing about Detours de Loire, aside from the friendly and helpful staff, is that they have several shops around the region. So you don’t necessarily have to find a way to cart your bikes back from your final stop.

From Blois, we headed northeast where we found the route mostly flat, an easy start for our first 17 km that would take us to the legendary Chambord.

While it’s tempting to seek out places off the well-trod tourist path, it’s also sometimes worth checking out the mainstream ones. Chambord is magnificent and worth a day or more to see the entire site. That includes 90 rooms in the Renaissance-era chateau and the 5440 hectares that surround it, including a little village with shops and various restaurants. The cost for five tickets is €39.

We spent just over half a day at Chambord because we still had 20 km of biking ahead of us to get to our sleeping quarters that night. Riding southwest, we encountered some minor ascents, up and down about 50 meters or so. Nothing severe, but we were definitely worn out when we arrived at le Chateau de Troussay.

Subscribe now

Read more

Perhaps no major city in France has been transformed over the past decade as much as Toulouse. The country’s fourth-largest city has grown more cosmopolitan, in part thanks to Airbus consolidating its headquarters in this region, bringing a greater international influence even as the city thankfully lacks the hordes of tourists found in other fashionable destinations. City leaders have been pouring money into frenzied renovations of seemingly every corner of its historic city center famed for its light-colored brick facades.

Much of that work has wound down and the wraps have come off. So the timing is perfect to explore a city that still offers the warm, friendly charms of the country’s southwest along with a modern sensibility that includes an increasingly adventurous culinary scene.

Friday

3 p.m. Occitanie’s Heart

There’s no better place to start a visit to Toulouse than at the very center in the city’s most iconic location, the Place de Capitole. Admire the majestic city hall that was built in the 12th century and its red-brick façade that was redesigned in the 18th century. But also notice that the plaza is dominated by a giant, golden Occitan cross that announces to visitors that they are in a region, now officially called Occitanie, whose culture and language were once closer to Catalan before a brutal French crusade. City center street sights are now posted in both French and Occitan languages. Step inside the Capitole and tour the Salles des Illustres, a gallery that includes a mural called La défense de Toulouse which depicts efforts by locals in the 13^th century to resist the attacking French crusaders.

5 p.m. Down By The Riverside

Walk west from the Capitole and enjoy more of the brick façades that give the city its nickname “The Pink City” until reaching the renovated Place de la Daurade that sits on the banks of the Garonne River. Before descending to the plaza, walk around the exterior of the neoclassic Basilique Notre-Dame de la Daurade, which just finished its own extensive makeover. Then head down the walkway to the plaza for a rosé or artisanal beer from the Pêchecheurs de Sable, a snack shop located in a former morgue. Find a place in the sunny plaza filled with tables that are likely packed with locals, or sit along the banks of the Garonne for views of the domed Hôpital La Grave on the other bank or of the 17^th century Pont Neuf bridge just to the south.

8 p.m. A Surprising Meal

One of the hottest names on the Toulouse culinary scene is Simon Carlier, who was a former contestant on the Masterchef TV show. See why his Solides restaurant at 28 rue des Polinaires in the historic Carmes neighborhood was voted best fine dining experience in Toulouse by a local food association. Solides is an intimate setting with an open kitchen that offers a surprise menu each day. Whatever Carlier has bought from local producers is what’s for dinner. Smoked herring tarte? A salmon confit with a creamy leek sauce? Or maybe he’ll be cooking his way through a whole pig for a week. Just come in an adventurous mood. The fixed menu (2 appetizers, one main dish, dessert) costs €42. Wine pairing is extra. Reserve a spot well in advance.

10:30 p.m. Playing the Wine Card

Just a few minutes’ walk to the north, finish the evening at No. 5 Wine Bar, where a sign posted outside will inform you that this was selected as the Best Wine Bar in the World in 2017. The concept: Purchase a wine card of any amount at the door (you can add more later). Then browse the wine dispensers along the wall, insert the card, and it will pour anything from a sip to a glass, letting you try high-end wines that are normally out of reach. If you really have money to burn, ask to sample what the bar claims is one of the oldest bottles of wine in the world, a 1675 Madeira salvaged from a shipwreck and purchased in an auction two years ago that will set you back €10,000 for a glass.

Subscribe now

Saturday

10 a.m. A Gourmand Tour

Immerse yourself in the sensory wonders of Toulouse’s largest covered market, Marché Victor Hugo. Walking the aisles will likely afford a chance to sample some of the délices from the cheese shops, boulangeries, or patisseries. Or just marvel at the kaleidoscope of seafood packed on ice at the fishmongers. And be ready to be tempted to join the locals who, despite the hour, are nestled up to the cavistes sampling wine and eating oysters.

12:30 p.m. Pause Déjeuner

Now that you’ve worked up an appetite ogling food all morning, the options for lunch within a 2-minute walk are nearly infinite. The second floor of the market is packed with restaurants that all offer hardy, southwestern dishes. Or step outside, and you’ll see the surroundings which the city has transformed in recent years into a gourmet district. You can’t really make a wrong turn here, but head across the street into the boutique for Maison Samaran. The Samaran name is synonymous with foie gras in this region thanks to the role its founders played 50 years ago in creating the modern foie gras industry. Settle onto the terrace and order a duck burger with fries cooked in duck fat, a decadence that will help you understand why locals prefer cooking everything in duck fat rather than butter or olive oil.

2:30 p.m. Hall Of Wonders

Several years ago, Toulouse was transformed into a massive stage for a 4-day street opera that featured a 50-foot mechanical minotaur and a giant spider also made of wood and metal. The spectacle was created and performed by La Machine, a theater company under the direction of François Delarozière. That show was also a prelude to the opening of a permanent space for the troupe, the Halle de la Machine. From Victor Hugo, walk a few minutes east and catch a 27 bus that will take you to the hall, located in a southern section of the city that is the center of a massive urban renewal project. La Halle offers workshops, various events on the weekends, or just the chance to stand in the shows of the company’s menagerie of mechanical beasts. For €16, one can visit the hall and ride the minotaur. And while you’re in the neighborhood, stop next door at the new museum L’Envol des Pioneers, which pays tributes to the city’s long aerospace history.

6 p.m. An Imperfect Beauty

After taking the 27 bus back into the city center, walk toward La place Saint-Étienne to see one of France’s more unusual cathedrals. So many architectural sites in France are all about the perfect realization of an artist’s dream. Cathedral Saint-Étienne is a majestic testament to imperfection. Dating from 1073, the original church is an early bit of Gothic design. In the late 13^th century, the local bishop wanted to replace it with an even larger structure. The idea would be to tear down parts of the ancient structure and gradually build a new version. But the project was only partially completed when the bishop died and money ran out. So today, the cathedral is an architectural mutant, an anomaly even more obvious from the inside where the structures don’t align. Still, it remains a breathtaking beauty.

7:30 p.m. Up On The Rooftop

After a long day, time to treat yourself. Walk about 10 minutes to Galeries Lafeyette to discover Toulouse’s hottest new bar and restaurant. Understandably, you will hesitate because the restaurant is at the top of a mall, and you will think, “I did not come all the way to France to eat at the mall.” Go in anyways and find an elevator that will take you to the top where you’ll enter Ma Biche Sur Le Toit (My Deer On The Roof). Biche’s outdoor terrace provides a gorgeous view of Toulouse from on high as you sip a cocktail and pick at a plate of cheese and charcuterie. After all the running around you’ve done, might as well stay here for dinner at the restaurant whose menu was created in partnership with Chef Michel Sarran, whose namesake two-star Michelin restaurant makes him one of the stars of the city’s culinary scene. Experience his penchant for fusion with Mibrasa duck breast, fried soba noodles and green curry cream, or Charolais beef tartar in a Thai style (€23).

Subscribe now

Sunday

9 a.m. Breakfast Time Bike Trip

The French tend not to be early risers on the weekend, which means you can rent a bike and take a peaceful ride along the banks of the Canal du Midi. One could follow the 150-mile canal, an engineering miracle when it was built in the 17^th century, to the Mediterranean if you had several days. But for a morning spin, the flat and paved pathways allow you to slip gently out of the city and get just a taste of the French countryside as you glide under the canopies of trees that line the canal. The city’s bikeshare system (VélÔ Toulouse) will let you take a heavier urban bike for the day (€1.20). Startup Indigo Weel offers stationless bikesharing. Or try Paulette Bike Rental, which specializes in canal trips, for sportier bike options.

11:00 a.m. A Taste of Toulouse

Depending on the bike option, you can follow the canal back into the city and leave the bike near L’église Saint-Aubin and explore the weekly open-air market that surrounds it on Sunday mornings. You’ll find a lively mix of local farm stands, booksellers, antique dealers, local clothing makers and more. Cobble together an improvised brunch from the prepared food stands offering a more international vibe such as Greek or Moroccan. Then sit in the small plaza in front of the church where there’s typically music and families making for a quietly festive way to end your Toulouse visit.

Lodging

Toulouse has a wide range of rentals through the typical platforms such as Airbnb and Booking.com. But if you’re accustomed to Paris’ eye-popping prices, you’ll find hotels at the higher end to be a nice surprise here. La Cour des Consuls Hotel, a classic luxury hotel with a spa and located just a stone’s throw from Pont Neuf, recently was offering a room with a king-side bed for €223.25 a night.

For a more modern twist, check out the Mama Shelter hotel on the other side of the city center. One of the newest entrants in the fashionable boutique chain founded in Paris a decade ago, Mama Shelter has a movie theater, cocktail bar and its own rooftop terrace bar to amplify its lively design choices inside. A cozy double bed room on a Saturday night is €89. For another blend of creative design and killer location, check out the Hotel des Beaux Arts. Each of its 18 rooms overlook the Garonne and sport a unique design done in collaboration with various painters and graffiti artists. Basic room rate starts at €104 per night.

Finally, for a really distinct experience, head to the other side of the Garonne and the Saint-Cyprien neighborhood for two concepts created by a former Airbus engineer who been transforming a building into a boutique hotel. The top two apartments were opened separately under a more luxurious concept dubbed Parènthese which includes jacuzzis placed at the windows overlooking the city. Prices range from €250 to €300 per night.

The following is a story I wrote in January 2019 about the filming of “The French Dispatch” by director Wes Anderson which opens in theaters today:

The rumors and buzz started swirling late last summer in the small French city of Angoulême: Director Wes Anderson would be filming a movie in this town starting in the fall. While there has never been official confirmation from city officials who are apparently sworn to secrecy, the director of "The Grand Budapest Hotel" and "Fantastic Mr. Fox" has indeed invaded this town, located about 90 minutes northeast of Bordeaux.

Angoulême may not be the first destination tourists think of when coming to France, but I visited in January 2016 and it's easy to see how Anderson could have been seduced. Talk that the film would be a musical comedy turned out not to be true. "The French Dispatch" is set after WWII and has something to do with American journalists in France. The cast so far includes some new and some familiar Anderson faces: Bill Murray, Tilda Swinton, Benicio del Toro, Timothée Chalamet, Frances McDormand, Benicio del Toro, Jeffrey Wright,  Adrian Brody, and Léa Seydoux.

People started spotting Anderson back in September on the streets:

And while there is the typical amount of secrecy around the project (his reps told me he wasn't doing any interviews), Anderson and Swinton appeared at the city's Christmas tree lighting ceremony:

Meanwhile, his team is transforming some storefronts and various neighborhoods for the film:

Residents were particularly surprised to wake up one morning to discover man-made snow covering some streets. One local group is taking advantage of the moment to hold a conference on January 18 dedicated to Anderson's most recent film, "Isle of Lost Dogs." The evening's speakers will include the film's producer Jeremy Dawson and two of the animators who worked on it. And I suppose everyone involved is secretly hoping that Anderson will pop in.

"The city of the image"

While it's unclear what led Anderson to choose Angoulême, it may not be as random as it seems at first glance. France has a wealth of adorable villages and small cities, but Angoulême also happens to be the country's comic book capital. And Angoulême, which bills itself as the "city of the image," has used that historic strength to turn itself into a major hub of digital arts, from video games to animation to motion capture.

The city is perhaps best known as the host of one of the world's largest comic book festivals, Le festival de la BD d'Angouleme. In France, comic books are called "bandes dessinées" or BD. And they're taken quite seriously as an art form. It was the BD Festival that brought me to the city in January 2016, along with an estimated 200,000 other attendees.

While there, I had a chance to experience parts of this broader digital arts hub, which was quite remarkable for a town with about 42,000 residents. The first time I had any hint about this prowess was just a couple of months earlier while researching a story for the Los Angeles Times about a new animated Peanuts series that had been created for France 3 TV. While the studio making the series, Normaal, was officially based in Paris, its main studio was actually in Angoulême. And it turned out they were far from alone.

The industry is grouped together by an association called the "Pole Image Magelis." Its members include the city's 12 schools that teach some facet of digital arts, from post-high school to Ph.D. Yes, in Angoulême, you can get a Ph.D. in "comic arts." Overall, the city counts about 150 industry-related companies, including animation studios such as Blue Spirit, video game makers BiP Media and Bulwark Studios, and film studio Transpa Studios.

I toured SolidAnim, which does motion capture, digital effects, and virtual reality. One executive mentioned that Angoulême's breadth of talent in terms of programmers, artists, and storytellers made it hard to beat as a center of animation.

The crown jewel of this animated culture and industry in Angoulême is La cité internationale de la BD. This is a kind of BD cultural campus located to the north side of the hilltop city center. Descending some winding stairs brings you to one of the entry points, a building that is home to the campus library and administrative offices named Vaisseau Moebius after Franco-Belgian comic book author Jean Giraud who wrote under that name.

From there, you can walk across a footbridge over the Charente River to the other part of the campus, including the Le musée de la bande dessinée. You could try to drag your kids to a lot of European museums against their will, or you could take them here and be a hero.

If you're still hungry for imagery and comic art, you can then do a walking tour of at least 26 murals designed by many famous comic artists and scattered around the city. Such as the one at the top of this story, "La Fille des Remparts," by Max Cabanes. You can get a full walking guide here.

Angoulême

Of course, even if you aren't totally obsessed with animation and all things digital, the city center does make for an alluring stop with its own merits.

About the only thing that I didn't get to experience was much of the local cuisine. Mostly because we were eating food at the festival or attending strange parties. Still, those offered some memorable moments, like a dance party in some hidden house in the middle of the city.

The next edition of the BD Festival starts on January 27, 2022. I probably can't attend this year, unfortunately. But I'm definitely eager to get back to Angoulême again.

Chris O’Brien

Le Pecq

Perhaps it was the Johnny Hallyday imitator. Or perhaps it was the child beauty pageant. All I knew was that mid-way through our first stay at one of France’s 5-star campgrounds, I would never be allowed to live this down.

I’ll admit this right from the start: It was my idea to give this a try.

We are not a 5-star kind of family in most circumstances, but especially when it comes to camping. Backpacking into a secluded spot is ideal. That became trickier after having kids, so we shifted to car camping. This is still pretty spectacular in California, a state blessed with stunning state and national parks.

But one of the unexpected challenges of moving to France was learning how to camp here. We had shipped our embarrassingly rich supply of REI camping gear to Toulouse in 2014. So we weren’t lacking the gear.

Instead, we couldn’t figure out how to camp and where. It’s one of the endless things that you don’t realize you’ll have to re-learn when moving to another country. French regional and national parks generally don’t allow camping, and they certainly don’t have the kind of campgrounds we found in Yosemite National Park. As for backpacking, or camping sauvage, it seemed to involve a tangled thicket of rules that had to be navigated in order to obtain permission to pitch a tent in some random place. Basically, a metaphor for life in France. Each attempt ended in discouragement.

So for the first several years, our camping gear just sat in a closet.

Eventually, we learned that most campgrounds were private. The trick then was to understand the rating system in order to select one that aligns with our needs. Still, even this proved complicated. We booked one weekend trip at a campground in the Pyrénées for our daughter’s birthday. The pictures looked wonderful, the 2-star rating suggested it would be no-frills.

But when we arrived, we discovered the “campground” was basically someone’s backyard in a small village. Fortunately, there weren’t many other campers. But we spent the weekend staring at the sides of other homes while toasting our s’mores on our camping stove.

Brittany Camping

After years of inertia alternating with camping misfires, we began planning our first trip to Brittany. We decided that it would be a camping trip, and so dug into the guide books and websites, determined to finally pull this off.

And so we did. We planned 2 weeks. Britanny is vast, and 14 days is enough to see only a sliver. After consulting friends, we selected two spots.

The first was Presqu’Île de Crozon in the Finistère Departement. This peninsula is in the Southwest corner of Brittany and gave us our first taste of this region’s natural beauty.

We stayed at a small family campground called Les Pieds Dans L’eau which has sadly closed since we visited. Les Pieds was basic, with a small campground store, showers and bathrooms, and a choice of pitches just a few hundred feet off the water. One feature it lacked was other French campers. We were mainly surrounded by Dutch and German families.

One thing it took some time to learn is that the French are not big on camping, at least not this basic kind. There is a joke here that if you go camping for a couple of weeks in the summer, you will come home speaking Dutch. The French, it seems, prefer their comforts when they go camping.

Over the course of various trips, I began to understand this as we would pass enormous campgrounds that resembled amusement parks. Restaurant areas. Spas. Waterslides. This was 5-star camping, camping cinq-étoile.

Here’s the thing: I also like my comforts. So when thinking about the Brittany trip, I conjured up some rationalizations to justify booking a few nights at a fancy campground. We should experience camping like French do. The kids will really love it and don’t they deserve a treat? It will add some variety to the trip.

The largest campground company in France is called Yelloh! Village. So I reserved us four nights at Le Ranolien along the northern coast of Brittany on a small peninsula called la Côte de Granit Rose (The Pink Granite Coast). (Since we visited, it appears this campground was sold to another company. Perhaps we bring with a camping curse that dooms such places.)

So after leaving behind our idyllic family campground, we made the two-hour drive north to meet our fate.

What Have I Done?

Upon pulling through the gate, I could feel my wife’s gaze tightening. We passed a shack with a list of sign-up activities: surfing lessons, kayaking lessons, guided hikes. After checking, I drove to our nearby camping spot, which was a decent-sized pitch but surrounded mostly by camping cars and RVs.

Apparently, we were among the foolish few who would dare use a tent. The majority of “campers” had actually rented cabins of some sort which were actually trailers placed on foundations with air conditioning. Like the happy people in this video:

The sounds of kids screaming and splashing in the large pool at the center of the campground floated over us as we pitched the tents. We noticed that we were right under a large streetlight, and prayed it would not stay on all night.

After getting set up, we went to explore. Walking past the volleyball and basketball courts, we arrived at the pool with its enormous waterslide. Just to the side was an indoor heated pool. Around the corner, a spa, a library, 2 restaurants, and a movie theater. Pampering a-plenty.

For the kids, there was a disco-arcade place where they could stand in a room ear-piercing music and play video games. In other words, a place to escape the parents.

Also, we found a lot of French people at Le Ranolien. This was apparently their idea of camping and we have made our peace with that.

There were many things we did appreciate about the campground. Life is not so bad when you can go in a heated pool and then wander next door to the bar for a gin & tonic. At one point, we gave the kids money to go see a movie while the adults went to the spa. Unfortunately, the jacuzzi was basically the temperature of chilly bathwater, and so we added to our long list of disappointing French thermal bath experiences.

On the other hand, the frenetic pace of the campground made it hard to relax. And the evening entertainment options left us, well, feeling like the strangers in a strange land that we are. On one night, a Johnny Hallyday impersonator packed the bar. We never got the whole French Elvis thing, so a pale imitator was hardly an attraction for us. But the booming sounds echoed around the campground, and when we walked past the bar that night it was a cauldron of dancing sweaty bodies who were singing along to every tune.

More stupefying was the child beauty pageant. Having grown up in the land of JonBenét Ramsey, I have few stones to cast here. Except to note that this is the 21st century and France does have a rather strange fetish for beauty pageants at all levels, with local ones often making the front page of our local Toulouse newspaper.

There didn’t really seem to a proper venue for raising our objections or debating the gender issues or even just the overall ickiness. We did duck in briefly to witness the event, which confirmed our sense of its wrongness. Clearly, we were in a minority, overwhelmed by the majority who found it all so very adorable.

Côte de Granit Rose

What saved this back half of the trip was the Côte de Granit Rose. We spent a day in the nearby town of Perros Guirec, where our son took surf lessons and we played on the beach and ate ice cream. On another day, we drove to the far side of the peninsula to the town of Saint-Guirec for an Irish music festival, a chance to hear one of our favorite types of music under torrential rain to set just the right ambiance.

But the real highlight could be found by walking straight out of the campground to a fairly gentle path that hugs the coast. The region gets its name from the unusual pink or rose-colored sand and granite rocks that decorate the shore. This path took us around the peninsula to Saint-Guirec and every step felt like a treat.

Sharp in some places, weathered and rounded in others, the rocks and sand created an almost glowing effect. As we wound around the coast, we passed a lighthouse perched far out on an outcropping keeping a watchful eye on the English Channel. Our walk ended on the west side of this little peninsula at Plage Saint-Guirec. Gazing across the little inlet, sat Costaérès Island, home to the Costaérès Château. Being made out of the local stone, it looked like a giant sandcastle sitting just out of reach.

Back at the campground, we got some takeout from one of the restaurants and then retreated to our pitch surrounded by tall hedges and our strategically placed car and tent to block the view of our neighbors. After dinner, we cranked up the camping stove to make s’mores and huddled together around the tiny flames to smell the melting chocolate and marshmallow and to ward off the chilly Brittany evening.

If we closed our eyes, it almost felt like camping.

As the French summer tourist season arrives, one of the most appealing options for seeing this country is a trip along one of its numerous bike paths.

Travelers like this choice because it gets them outdoors in a way that also offers some measure of safety and peace of mind. You can ride at your own speed, and keep as much distance as you want if you're still feeling anxious about crowds while the coronavirus is still circulating.

The nation's tourist industry is promoting this because they're eager to entice people to travel this summer to get some much-needed Euros circulating in the economy. In that respect, biking is particularly attractive because people visiting a region by bike tend to spend more time and money than someone zipping along by car.

"Bikes are very good for our tourism," said Stéphane Villain, president of the National Federation of Tourism Organizations in France. "Riders can benefit more from our Patrimoine, take their time, and relax. The average tourist by bike spends about €70 per day, compared to €50 for the classic tourist."

For all of these reasons, plans to resuscitate the nation's tourist industry include increased investment in biking infrastructure. With bike sales in the country already soaring during the pandemic, the nation that is home to the famed Tour de France is set to boost its cycling profile even more.

To get started, here are several great resources for researching your own itinerary:

• Vélo & Territoires

• France Vélo Tourisme

• Vois Vertes (This is the official term for dedicated bike paths that have been either paved or are maintained in some fashion.)

Given the embarrassment of choices, here are 7 bike trips that offer the perfect way to see France on two wheels this summer.

Canal du Midi in Occitanie

King Louis XIV’s desire to embrace projects of grandeur in the 17^th century left a legacy that includes Canal du Midi. The canal stretches 150 miles across the southwest of France linking Toulouse to the Mediterranean Sea. Our family rode the entire length in 2018 until we reached Sète. That ride took 5 days, but you can pick and choose smaller sections. For instance, leaving Toulouse, there is a solid bike path most of the way to Castelnaudary. And though it gets a bit rougher in some stretches, it's still pretty easy to reach Carcassonne in two days. The final section, from Béziers to Sète, also features a mostly paved bike path and a flat ride. Last year, the regional government announced plans to invest in creating a maintained bike path the entire length of the canal.

La Vélodyssée along the Atlantic Coast

La Vélodyssée is an extraordinary voie verte that runs from the Brittany region all the way south to the Basque Coast. That 745-mile route also takes riders across the Nouvelle Aquitaine region and a variety of landscapes, including Bordeaux. The good news is that more than 70% of the path is dedicated bike lanes where you won't be competing with automobiles. Only the hardiest of bikers will attempt the whole thing. Instead, pick a more modest itinerary. For instance, a 5-day ride starting south of Bordeaux will take you along the coast in the Landes department and through scenic forest areas and spectacular beaches.

La Grande Boucle of Southern Burgundy

The Great Southern Burgundy Loop in the Saône & Loire department runs from Chalon to Mâcon in the eastern part of France. The 90-mile path goes from north to south, and the section between Givry and Cluny lays claim to being part of the first voie verte in France. This will carry you past some of the most peaceful countryside, forests, and pastureland in France. You will also coast among vineyards at Côte Chalonnaise to the north and Mâconnais to the south if you feel ready for some wine tasting. You'll also cross the medieval villages of Buxy and Saint-Gengoux-le-National. 

Canal du Nivernais in Bourgogne

The Canal du Nivernais sits in the Nièvre department. The adjacent bike route follows the canal, which connects the Yonne and Loire Rivers in the western Burgundy region (Officially the Bourgogne-France-Comté Region). The bike route is 108 miles, so the whole thing would take several days depending on your pace. But it's mostly flat and easy pedaling along what was the former railway line next to the water. In addition to passing the impressive system of locks, the path takes you near the Saussois rocks in Merry-sur-Yonne, which are part of an ancient coral bar that formed in the Jurassic era. The route is also part of the larger network known as the Tour de Bourgogne à vélo. These 500 miles of bikeways include the Southern Burgundy Loop mentioned above.

La Loire à Vélo in the Loire Valley

La Loire à Vélo is a 500-mile route that cuts across the center of France. But the 26-mile section from Blois to Amboise that runs through the Loire Valley should be right at the top of your must-do list. It’s hard to beat the payoff in terms of gorgeous countryside and spectacular sites. Our family did this ride in 2017, and you can read about our itinerary here. The Loire Valley is where several generations of French royals built their countryside castles for their life outside of Paris, and so this region boasts some of the most famous châteaux in France. This route largely traces the Loire River, but a few small detours will take you past castles, which demand anywhere from a couple of hours to a whole day to visit. Our ride mostly followed the official La Loire à Vélo, which is part of the epic EuroVelo6 route that runs from the Atlantic to the Black Sea. Note for planning: Names can be confusing in France, and that’s especially the case for anything related to the Loire River, one of the longest in France. The Loire department is further east. This trip is in the Loire Valley, or Val de Loire in the Indre-et-Loire department.

The Vélomaritime in Normandy

The Vélomaritime is a 745-mile bikeway that follows almost the entire French coast along the English Channel, from Brittany to the Belgium border. But the 182-mile section in the department of La Manche is particularly noteworthy. You can start at the famed Mont Saint Michel and check that off your French bucket list. From there, the path turns north and will eventually go past such places the Vire Valley, Utah Beach, and upwards to Cherbourg (for fans of its namesake musical).

Passa Païs in Haut Languedoc

The Passa Païs is a 47-mile bikeway that was formerly a railroad track. The route is an easy 2-day journey between Mazamet in the Tarn department and Bedarieux in the Hérault Department. It works well in either direction. While there is a mild climb in the middle, the path is well-maintained and easy to follow. You'll pass waterfalls, picturesque villages, bridges over deep gorges, and mountains.  

Bonus: Vélo & Fromages

This is not a bike route, but rather, 87 of them! In 2019, a group of tourist associations in France teamed up with the director of the Tour de France to create a concept called Vélo & Fromages. The project designates bike routes that offer a tour of several dairy farms, cheese production sites, and cheese stores. The goal is to give riders a taste of the region's best offerings as well as a lesson in its cheesemaking industry. There are now more than 1,000 cheese sites participating. You can see the full list of routes here. Note: Some of these itineraries are created with electric bikes in mind, so look closely to make sure the route matches your own biking level.

What I knew about Lille before last month was pretty much zero. Tucked into a far corner of France, close to the Belgium border, the city seemed about as far as one could get from our lives in southwest France.

Having a few days to play while staying in Paris, I decided to make a detour to Lille with my daughter. While I prefer the south, one thing that I do envy about Paris is the ease with which you can get pretty much anywhere in France by train. A trip to Lille is just one hour by TGV, which makes a day trip from the capital city a perfectly reasonable adventure.

Blissfully uninformed, we stepped off the train and were immediately greeted by an 8-foot, yellow bust of a woman who seemed to resemble my daughter just a touch. I looked around for information about her (and searched online later) but didn't find anything that explained the seeming randomness.

I'm guessing, however, that this young woman was somehow related to what he saw next: A menagerie of bizarre creatures lining Rue Faidherbe. We had decided to make our way to the tourist office, and on the way encountered these colorful, vibrant monsters that turned out to be part of the citywide Eldorado Lille 3000 festival. This Mexican-theme event had been running for several weeks by this point, so we were lucky to catch these wonders before they disappeared.

Because we had come in cold, I didn't know the story that somehow linked Lille to Mexico. But at first appearances, it made me appreciate that the city must at least have some sense of whimsy.

Once we had cleared the statues, we found ourselves in Vieux Lille, standing in the Place du Theatre. From the tourist's vantage, this is the gold at the end of the rainbow. But for now, we just paused to look at the Lille Opera House (in the photo at the top of the story) before continuing our trek to the tourist office.

At the tourist office, we made a couple of big decisions, with help from the friendly staff. First, we bought tickets for a guided tour of Vieux Lille in the afternoon. And second, at the insistence of my daughter, we would make this a mostly non-digital day (not counting photos). She picked up a tourist map and wanted to guide us just using those signposts.

The first thing that caught our eyes was the Citadel, a 17th-century fortress about a 20-minute northwest of the city center. The Citadel boasts a zoo and a little amusement park for the youngsters. But perhaps the most intriguing thing for me was the first glimpse it provided of Lille's history.

The Citadel was built at the insistence of French military engineer Sébastien Le Prestre de Vauban who worked for King Louis XIV. It turns out, in one of those mysteries of European history and geography and tangled bloodlines, that Lille was part of a Flanders territory owned by Spain.

When the Spanish king died in 1665, King Louis, being married to a Spanish woman, claimed the rights to the territory. After a brief military skirmish, Lille became part of France. And Vauban felt a fortress was necessary to defend against the Spanish, the English, the Dutch, just about everyone who might want it.

No doubt the Citadel was an impressive structure of its time. But to be honest, walking the grounds was somewhat less compelling. Think of it more as a big city park with lovely foliage and streams and canals. But what little there is to see beyond the remaining walls is a functioning military site and therefore closed to the public most days.

This would be a lovely thing to have at your doorstep if you lived here, a nice place to walk or jog, or even bike a bit. But while it was a pleasant morning walk, we were ready to move on.

From there, we decided to trace an arc around the outside of the old city, running southeast and then turning back to the city center for lunch. This was again a nice enough walk, but if I were to do it again, I would rent a bike. The highlights are spread out over several blocks which are mostly filled with routine shops, tabacs, and modern structures that are serviceable but hardly inspiring.

If there is another pitfall to taking an unplanned analog trip, it is not knowing things like when the Lille Belfry would close. Alas, we missed the last elevator to the top before lunch by just minutes. And with tickets to the city center tour later, we'd have to skip it on this visit.

Vieux Lille

The tour after lunch gave us a great look at Vieux Lille, starting with the exterior of the tourist office itself which once upon a time was part of a much grander palace known as Palais Rihour and dating from the 15th century.

From there we moved into the Place du Général de Gaulle. There we heard the story of the rather grumpy-looking Colonne de la Déesse who stands in the center and was commissioned to honor the fighting against Austria during the French Revolution.

To one side is the headquarters of the local newspaper La Voix du Nord. It has some Flemish touches on its façade and three golden women on top, known as the "Trois Grâces" who each symbolize one of the former regions to which Lille belonged. Today, they keep a silent watch over the shopping mall below.

On another side, La Vieille Bourse hints again at Lille's unusual history. This marketplace was built under Spanish rule starting in 1652 and has a spectacular exterior representative of the Flemish sensibility of the time: ornate figures and lively colors. Those façades extend all the way around the building, while inside there is an open courtyard that still hosts various markets during the week.

By now, we were an hour into the tour, and our energy was flagging a bit. One can only absorb so many anecdotes. We mostly enjoyed wandering the streets and gazing at the Flemish-style architecture, and that feeling that we were at once in France and yet not in France. In a country that emphasizes integration and rigid adherence to a singular French culture, Lille has managed to remain distinctive.

The final stop on the tour was Lille's Notre Dame de la Treille, a kind of gorgeous disaster.

Started in the 19th century to create something that looked like it was from the 13th century, it suffered an ill-conceived architectural competition, 2 wars, and a lack of funding. As a result, much of the originally planned work was never finished.

Despite the shortcomings, it's an imposing building with a magnificent interior. And with ongoing work on its main façade (see the photo below), perhaps it may yet one day achieve its full glory.

As this was late October and we were in the far north, the light was dimming by the time the tour ended. While we waited for our train back to Paris, we ducked into Cafés Méo on Place Charles de Galle to sample some of Lille's famous merveilleux.

In this case, the shop was selling the versions produced by Lile's renowned patisserie Aux Merveilleux de Fred. These little pastries are made from meringue with a coating of whipped cream around them. We sampled one with a chocolate whipped cream exterior that was covered with dark chocolate shavings and another nicknamed sans-culotte (meaning without, ahem, women's underwear) that had caramel whipped cream.

Neither of us is typically big on the meringue, but these were indeed amazingly rich and decadent, remarkably creamy as one would expect but without being overwhelmingly sweet. A handful of miniature ones left us satisfied and marked the perfect bookend to the day.

Some would say the merveilleux are Lille's most important cultural heritage. Despite all the wonders we had seen and stories we'd heard that day, I wouldn't argue.

We stopped in Sète following a 5-day bike trip along the Canal du Midi from our home in Toulouse. You can read about that adventure here: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, and Day 5.

Sète is one of those places in France that doesn't necessarily have the high international profile it deserves. But it's become one of our favorite beach destinations in a country that hardly lacks them.

Subscribe now

Located about 45 minutes southwest of Montpellier, Sète boasts 12 kilometers of beaches, a vibrant street art scene, and killer views thanks to being built on and around Mont St. Clair. And while you can still get a hint of luxury here, we prefer Sète to many of the hotspots further up the coast which have become victims of overbuilding and their courting of the jet set.

We had already lived in France several years before I first heard about Sète. In the summer of 2017, a new evening soap opera premiered on TF1 called "Demain Nous Appartient." (Tomorrow Belongs To Us). Soap operas may be dying elsewhere, but they're still a staple of French TV. In case you think the French only like dark artsy films, you may be relieved to know that they like shallow, overwrought dramas as much as the rest of the world. Each of these soap operas is set in a southeast coastal city, where the Mediterranean weather allows for longer outdoor filming seasons and the beaches enable beautiful characters to wear less clothing.

Since "Demain" began filming in Sète, it's brought an additional touch of notoriety across the country. The true fanatics can now even take a tour of the sights that serve as locations for the series.

Knowing that TV can make everything seem perfect by selectively showing only the highlights, I was still drawn by the images of the beaches that seemed spacious and uncrowded. A few months later, as we were planning a family bike trip along the Canal du Midi, I was discussing the logistics with a friend who then began raving about Sète. That pretty much clinched it, and we decided we would end our bike trip with a weekend there.

Share

Love At First Pedal

On the fifth day of our epic bike trip, we had not quite reached the Mediterranean when we turned northeast to head toward Sète. After spending several days navigating increasingly precarious paths along the Canal, it was a relief to hit the outer reaches of Sète and find ourselves on a paved and well-maintained bike path that would lead us to town.

But almost immediately, after having passed through several towns, we felt the crowding of development slipping away. The miracle here is how relatively undeveloped much of this stretch of coast is. There are occasional small groupings of vacation homes and some shops. But mostly it was us riding past sand dunes and peaking over to the Mediterranean on one side and Étang de Thau on the other side.

That sand and that openness is not something we take for granted. We've stumbled onto enough beaches that are covered by pebbles and require shoes to reach the water that we carefully research all details before choosing a spot along the coast. And even so, it's hard to find a stretch near a town that doesn't have garish hotels looming over the beaches.

Now, it should be noted that these photos are from a trip in April, so far from the high tourist season. And we generally were stopping several kilometers from Séte. But we returned in August for a day trip to the beaches and dropped our blankets at Plage du Lido, which is just outside the main town. And here's what it looked like on an August afternoon during peak tourist season:

Whizzing past these dream beaches was a reward that we had earned after five days on bikes. Alas, we had made one fatal strategic error that forced us to suffer greatly in our final moments before getting to truly enjoy this corner of France.

Subscribe now

Mont St. Clair

One can look on a map and read in a book that Mont St. Clair, the hilltop on which most of the town sits, is 175 meters high. And one can look at Google Street View in advance to see the route. But the severity of the climb on bikes cannot be truly appreciated until your family is pushing their bikes up an incline that feels like 90 degrees after five days of riding.

But climb we had to because we had decided to treat ourselves by booking two nights at La Singulière, an upscale bed and breakfast that is perched near the peak of the aforementioned Mont St. Clair. So, pushing our bikes up this last tortuous stretch, legs shaking and mouths cursing, we eventually arrived and almost immediately collapsed.

Fortunately, it was more than worth it. The inn came with spectacular views, warm hosts, and a relaxing pool. It was all cozy enough that it soon became challenging to overcome the inertia and go exploring the rest of Sète.

Views From On High

Eventually, with our batteries recharged, we felt motivated enough to discover what lay beyond the confines of La Singuliere. Most striking was yet another reward for having braved Mont St. Clair: The sweeping views.

Canal City

Descending from Mont St. Clair, we arrived at the city center, though technically it's not really in the center. This older part of the city runs along a series of canals that crisscross. Sète is a port city, and the canals join the Étang, where the Canal du Midi officially ends, and the Mediterranean.

Strolling along the banks of the canals, we stepped over the bridges that join the various sides to gaze down the waterways. These are the views that define the city's image.

Share

Street Graffiti

Turning away from the canals, Sète shows off its artistic side. The city invites graffiti artists to produce large works through the downtown area, creating what it calls an Open Air Museum.

This "Musée à Ciel Ouvert" or "MaCO", currently has 33 works sprinkled around the city center. You can try to follow this map to find them all, or just do what we did and wander aimlessly for a couple of hours and see how many you can spot.

Les Joutes

Sète's is also known for a peculiar form of jousting done on boats, known as "Les Joutes." The sport has been around for hundreds of years and remains a vibrant tradition throughout this southeastern coastal region. The Tournament of Saint Louis dates back to 1666.

Naturally, there are a lot of specific rules, but you don't need to know the nuances to enjoy two people using long poles to try and knock each other into the water. Most of the action happens during the summer months, with a full calendar here.

The only aspect of Sète we didn't get a chance to explore was the food and drink. Given our long stretch on the road, we mainly improvised some takeout or small dishes we ordered at La Singuliere. The culinary experience will have to wait until our next expedition to Sète.

Chris O’Brien

Le Pecq

I spent several weeks this fall exploring a controversy that echoed across the southwest of France: The question of whether the heretics known as the Cathars existed or not. You can read more about the discussion in my story for the Los Angeles Times:

A debate has erupted across this region in newspapers, tourism offices, and in research conferences following an academic exhibition that explored a more modern-day heresy: The Cathars never existed.

“People imagine that these people died as heroes, in defense of their faith and against corrupt powers,” said Alessia Trivellone, a history professor at Paul-Valery University in Montpellier who organized the exhibit. “They feel that the very idea of going back to investigate this painful story is unbearable.”

For locals, the Cathars are a tragic story of how Northern France invaded the South as part of a Church-sanctioned crusade to wipe out the Cathars and annex a semi-autonomous part of France:

“To people here, the crusade against the Cathars looks rather like a colonial war,” said Monique Boulze, who is in charge of promotion at the tourist office in Beziers, which was burned to the ground in one of the crusade’s most infamous episodes. “It’s something still present and alive in local history.”

Whatever comes from the debate, the Cathars are destined to remain an important part of the tourism draw to this region, particularly in the Aude Departement which has embraced the label "Pays Cathare." The tale is a fascinating and critical part of early modern European history, and the sites associated with the Cathars offer a stunning tour through the region's patrimoine and gorgeous landscape.

To learn more about the Cathars, you can visit see a list of sites here. You can also check out this trail that takes you through some parts of the Cathar region. In the meantime, you check out these photos of Cathar castles and abbeys that were provided courtesy of the Aude Tourism office.