I start this sitting in a beautiful, spacious airbnb in Étretat after four feral days in Paris (a city whose underground hates us). I can’t believe I’m in the middle of my final part of pre-booked holiday here. I can’t believe how quickly the days are going. I can’t believe any of it :)
Paris is out to get usFirst, let’s discuss the Perils of Paris.
I’m just not cut out for the energy it has to offer. I’ve been away from NZ for two months and have already had multiple conversations with people about how much more friendly, gentle and relaxed Kiwis are. “Be a tidy Kiwi,” is ingrained into us for our whole lives back home. But despite the unbelievable beauty Paris has to offer (some parts were so so so so easy to romanticise and looked completely make-believe), I saw too many disgusting toilets, too many actually harrowing sights in the metro and too many kind of rude, kind of eye-rolling individuals to have fallen in love with the city.
We couldn’t stop talking about how badly organised the metro system is. There’s no ‘tap and go’ system so you need to buy paper tickets (or a Hop/Oyster card thing, which didn’t make sense for our 3 day trip). Ticket machines are few and far between, and when you do get to the front of the line, they are slow and confusing. If you make one mistake, or want to check your selection, you have to wait a looooong time to go back. All of the experiences were treacherous, but here are some examples:
The first time we tried to exit a train station (on the way to Mum and Dad’s hotel) Venice stuck her ticket in and moved to walk through the now-open gate. Only to find a French woman barging her way through from the other side, telling Venice that ‘it was green on her side’. LIAR. This of course meant that Venice’s ticket was now ‘used’ and she couldn’t use it again to open the gate. And there are zerooooo workers around at any of the stations to help. (The end of this story is that a potentially homeless stranger literally just swung open the side gate (which I believe is only supposed to be used by those non-existent workers) and ushered us all through without saying anything haha).
Venice and I got stuck at the barrier at our train station. We stuck our tickets in, a big red cross appeared, and nothing else happened. No explanation. No workers to help out. We were genuinely trapped on a platform with zero people in sight. The machine was broken. Until we watched a lady walk past us and go through the barrier with ease. We tried our ones once again, and once again no luck. But the lady saw us struggle and VERY KINDLY tapped her metro card on the other side for us. Venice and I literally wrenched our way out together, clawing at the swiftly closing barriers, and then showered the lady in thanks. She said it happens all the time. I thought, maybe they should, perhaps, fix the gods damned system then?
We also witnessed an almost massacre-by-escalator. Basically too many people were riding a too-short escalator upwards. And at the top of this escalator, was a too-small area for people to stand. And the people at the front of this queue were too slow inserting their tickets to leave through the gates. And thus, 40 people were crammed into a space fit for 20, max. And the escalator just kept pouring people into the tiny area. They were screaming and trying to run back down the upwards-going escalator. It was actually so scary. No one was injured that we could see. But we all felt a bit ill afterwards. Bleh.
Basically, we have no idea how the city will survive the Olympics without some serious chaos ensuing. Godspeed.
Paris highlights:Shakespeare and Company - this bookshop that had been on my list for a long while - was pretty wonderful. We had to queue to get in, as they don’t like the shop to get over-full. And you weren’t allowed to take any photos inside, which I think added to the charm.
It felt a bit surreal being in there to be honest. There were plenty of rooms with plenty of shelves, as well as little reading nooks with a view of the Notre Dame. It was more than a bit magic. I got a book sleeve the first time we went. Then, because I kept thinking about it, returned and got a copy of Letters to a Young Poet- which was so dreamy when I read it for the first time. Very special place.
Train Girl - once, while I was on the train, I felt a tap on my wrist (which had my hackles RAISING). Luckily, it was just a girl who pointed at the ring on my finger, then at the ring on her finger; unbelievably they matched.
I said, “No way!'“
She said, “Oh thank god, you speak english.”
It was truly insane for many reasons:
We actually entered the train through different doors, however just before our next stop we realised that our side was too full. So we walked a carriage length to this other exit, where this girl with the matching ring was.
She got hers in America a few years ago, I got mine in Italy last year.
This was the ring that I lost down the DRAIN in Chiswick in March. The one that I fished out of the sink using Venice’s metal straw cleaner and some wire.
Also, just as we left the train together, she noticed my circle tattoo and wigged out.
I said, “You don’t.”
She said, “I dooooo!”
And thus, in the middle of a busy, dirty train station in Paris, she stripped off her shoe and most of her sock, and we grabbed a pic displaying our 4x circle friendship hahah.
Maison et jardins de Claude Monet - walking through this lush, beautiful garden scene was literally like walking through a painting. I could see why and how Monet was SO inspired to create art when this was his actual garden.
There were hundreds of people there, and while it would’ve been really special to wonder around the space alone, everyone seemed to be feeling it too - that special Sacred Place feeling.
Dad made friends with a random American man and I overheard this convo:
Dad: Oh, must be cold there in the winters!
Man: Yeah! Used to get much more snow though.
Dad: Ah, climate change aye?
Man: Oh well, actually, I don’t believe in that. I don’t believe humans can have that big of an impact on nature. It can’t be true…
Dad: SO YOU GUYS MUST BE BIG TRAVELLERS AREN’T YOU? WHERE ELSE ARE YOU GOING?
I really got the giggles at dad’s attempt at segue.
We ate a delicious lunch, had a delicious Aperol Spritz and then got ice cream afterwards too. How lush.
Also, importantly, on the train ride to the gardens Mum turned to me and said, “You’ve got a snail by your shoulder.” I said, “Are you having a stroke??” And then I turned and sure enough, a tiny little snail was right there on the gritty seat back.
Obviously I wanted to save it, but we were on a moving train. So I waited until I saw people start moving/grabbing their bags in anticipation of our next stop, then grabbed the little guy. And then I waited and waited and waited, with a little tiny snail in my hands, for the next stop to actually arrive. Despite the long wait, I successfully placed him in a safe little spot once we arrived.
This became a bit of an in-joke though - like what if the snail was trying to get somewhere else. What if he wanted to go back to central Paris? I prefer to think that he was really wanting to visit the magical Monet Gardens too :’)
En route to Musée de l’Orangerie and the Eiffel TowerOn our last full day in Paris, we decided to visit the gallery where Monet’s waterlily paintings are displayed and it was utterly gorgeous. The long, curved frames lined the walls of three or four different rooms, and in each one was a security guard literally shh-ing people. It felt like how art is supposed to feel; a little bit too honest, a little but make-believe.
Before this (and after yet another disastrous travel experience on the metro) we met with mum and dad by the Notre Dame. They’d been waiting for a while due to the aforementioned metro delay, and had discovered this Fête du Pain (bread festival) right nearby. Mum had bought each of us a pain au chocolat - and it was the best I’ve ever had.
We stopped for coffee after this, and had a good giggle with the friendly waiter. At the end Dad said: “thank you so much, yes that was wonderful, we loved it, we’ll be back, thanks again, BONJOUR - I MEAN.”
And we laughed about this for about 100 metres, while dad tried to come to terms with what he’d just said. Then we came across another waiter, standing outside his restaurant.
“Bonjour,” Dad said, in hopes of correcting his former mistake.
“BONJOUUUUUUUUUUUUR,” the crazy man said in a sing-songy, very loud voice. We all lost our minds laughing.
“What did I do wrong this time?” Dad asked, dismayed.
We walked through the big space right outside the Louvre (we simply couldn’t face the queues) and met a really gorgeous golden retriever who full-body flopped onto the ground so we could all give well-deserved pats.
After the gallery, we headed to the Eiffel Tower for a look. We’d all been up before so had no real interest in that this time. But it honestly did feel quite special being there again. I hadn’t been in over ten years! Little Madeleine once walked these same steps. Wholesome to think about.
To finish this day we had a lovely wine in the bar right beside Shakespeare and Co., in view of the Notre Dame. And Venice and I grabbed a crepe each to eat while watching crazy people jump into the Seine? Gotta love Paris.
Thursday part 1. Well… When we realised that our first big travel day of the France trip occurred on a Thursday, we should’ve known it would be rough.
And we did, to be fair. Everyone (Mum, Dad, Venice, Jared and Dani) knew about the curse of the Thursday’s and thus we had been talking about how important it was to chill and be gentle with ourselves in the face of whatever chaos might ensue.
Alas.
We managed to all meet at Gare du Nord pretty much on time, which was quite an accomplishment given that the six of us were arriving from three different places.
After Mum and Dad split to go start the car rental collection process, Jared and Dani arrived with all of the excitement and energy I knew they’d bring. We stood there yapping about how tricky Paris was, when I got a phone call from a random number.
“Hello?”
“Bonjour,’ said a French man, before he continued say more French stuff. Then Dad’s voice piped up. “Maddy is that you? There’s been an issue with the car. Can you guys come up here?”
Turns out, in the car we rented (which needed to be big enough for six people, two giant suitcases and four mini suitcases/backpacks) the breaks didn’t work. And they didn’t have another one to offer.
We were like???? Um. What do you mean you, a car rental place, do not have another car?? We need to drive to our next airbnb today. We need to get the hell out of Paris.
They said that a big enough car was supposed to be returned today at 4pm (it was 10 am). And waiting for that was our only option.
Obviously this sucked. Very terrible and icky feelings ensued.
But obviously we had to make the most of the day! If the curse of Thursday’s has taught us anything, it’s that the sooner you find the silliness/lightness of the day (which gets buried deeeep underneath all the stress), the sooner you remember that this is still a Day Worth Having.
Thus, we left our one million bags in this dodgy little car rental place, and we ventured out into the Big Bad Paris City.
Thankfully (especially due to my decision fatigue), Jared is the King Navigator. He led us to some gorgeous places that we would’ve missed out on otherwise.
We walked to the Sacré-Cœur, which was beautiful and busy. Then we wandered back down and Mum bought me a French edition of the Madeline book - which was a major part of my childhood. We grabbed an actually good coffee before walking to the Luxembourg Gardens. We ate yummy baguettes in the park, a 10 year old American girl complimented my hair, then we headed back to the car rental place; our spirits high.
And then we saw the car. It was… tiny. It definitely only had five visible seats. The man insisted it was big enough for us, and pulled down the TINIEST SEAT IN THE WORLD in the boot. Given that I’m the shortest/only one who doesn’t get car sick, that was my designated spot. Somehow we fitted the suitcases in the back beside me, everyone had the tiniest bits of leg room and something on their laps.
BUT (after dad knocked the wing mirror out of place only once) we said goodbye Paris, hello Étretat
Étretat, Chateau de Val, Mont Saint MichelArriving at this airbnb was an absolute TREAT. It was still Thursday though, so we had trouble opening the door AND we arrived at the supermarket 5 minutes after it had closed.
In driving towards the little town, we also drove past so many random people walking along the side of the road it felt a little bit apocalyptic. Like, what are you doing strolling, slowly but with purpose, along the edge of a busy road? And can you please move because we’re driving on the wrong side of the car and the wrong side of the road and it’s scary for us. We affectionately called these individuals ‘zombies’ and encountered them so many times throughout our Étretat journey :)
Despite the zombies, this airbnb was a proper ‘home’ with a proper dining room/living area and I was with my family - JOY.
We walked to the beach in the evening, and I was suddenly like OH! So we’ve entered a fairy tale. The cliffs were unbelievable, genuinely.
Here, we had Apperol Spritz and red wine evenings.
Here, we played card games and Dad played Foy Vance as loud as he could.
Here, Jared mocked me for my gen Z sneakers. And then, while up the top of the cliffs, some French gen Z girls came up to me and begged to know where I got them from.
Here, Dani made us gallettes that rocked all of our words.
Here, Jared went flying in a tiny little flying machine?
Here, on a day trip to a place I don’t remember, we got covered in tiny gnats. Then at lunch we got snarked at for ordering a coffee with lunch, pavlova for lunch and the way we pronounced ‘apricot juice’.
On our last morning, Jared, Dani, Venice and I walked up the other cliff side to check out the view. It was absolutely magic. (Quick, how many times have I used that word this newsletter?) I loved it.
Then it was time to load up the car again and head to Brix to spend a few nights in a Chateau.
This is maybe my favourite place I’ve ever stayed. It was fairy tale number two of the France trip.
The inside space was decadent and magical. There were framed artworks filling in the gaps between beautiful big windows and arched passage ways. Everything creaked, and there wasn’t a modern piece of equipment in sight - I loved it.
The outside was where it really went up a level though. It was ethereal. So many trees, so much bird song, horses within line of sight, long wild grass - magical. It really served to inspire. I love when life does that.
The owners were the sweetest people in the whole world. After spending a lot of time in airbnbs (where the owners are usually unseen) and Paris (where the locals are not super friendly), it felt very special to be helped out by generous hosts. They were so kind and gentle and you could see how much they loved their jobs. They provided a delicious spread for breakie each morning (the croissants were impeccable), the yummiest rosé cider in the world and they seemed so excited and happy to chat each time we saw them :’)
During our time here, we visited some of the D Day beaches, which dad called a ‘spiritual experience’. It did feel incredibly insane, standing bare foot on a beach were thousands of soldiers were once killed. It felt easy to imagine the swarms of ships, the red, wet sand, the echoes of gun shots. Really, it hasn’t been that long since the end of the war. And as we toured the American cemetery and museum at Omaha beach, I kept thinking about how in Palestine and other places the harrowing experience I found so easy to imagine here, was still happening.
On one of my favourite mornings of the whole trip, we stayed at the chateau to read and write. Venice and I also wandered around the grounds taking videos and photos. I find so much joy in creating these videos; picking out the music, choosing the best bits from the clips I take, clipping to the right beat. There’s something really soothing and almost ritualistic about it. In engaging with the moment as it happens and afterwards in editing clips together, it feels like I’m properly committing it to memory. So I walked around, identifying favourite spots, holding my books in shot, thinking and feeling. There was a moment while we were walking through the knee length grass in the back fields where life didn’t even feel real. A huge gust of wind spun through the grass, waking up dragon flies and moths and causing the trees to sing. It swept up the white skirt of my dress, and tied knots in my hair. If we humans didn’t have such a habit of getting in the way of nature, I know the wind would’ve gone right through me.
It felt like Cabeswater, the dream forest in The Raven Boys. “If one squinted into Cabeswater long enough, in the right way, one could see secrets dart between the trees. The shadows of horned animals that never appeared... The rushing sound of many wings… Magic.”
Here we also watched Eurovision (thanks to the host for literally giving us his laptop because we didn’t have the right chord for our laptop to connect to the TV). It was my first time and Dani had printed a very funny bingo sheet. I WON bingo too. This happened during Ireland’s song (which was amazing and should’ve won). The singer (with proper witch energy) stripped off her outfit to reveal a tiny bodysuit thing - I crossed off costume change and yelled bingo. At the same time, Dad pointed at the outfit and yelled out, “IS THAT JORTS?”
Hysterical.
Everything about our time there was magic.
On our final morning, after another delicious breakfast, saying bye to Jared and Dani (and her mum/step dad) SAD :(, and earning the trust of the neighbouring horses, we were off to our final place. I even got to sit in a proper adult seat in the car now - thank gods.
Next, we were staying in Cherrieux, but the purpose of the visit was the infamous Mont Saint Michel.
It was definitely made infamous by my mum writing about it when she was in primary school - she had to pick a place and create a travel guide brochure for it. It leapt out at her then, and had been on the list of spots to see ever since - but she FINALLY got to see it this time around.
We walked out to the little island, upon which sits this enormous, fantastical Abbey. A fairy tale castle, folks.
We headed up the infinite number of steps into the Abbey which had the most beautiful views and beautiful pigeons/sea gulls :) We sat in the church, wandered through tiny little alcoves, and even found Chapelle Sainte Madeleine (my own chapel that only cool people with the name Madeleine are allowed to enter).
There’s only so many adjectives one can use on a trip like this, but ultimately, it was a very special place that I feel very lucky to have visited.
Thursday part 2.Well… Thursday’s come around every week don’t they.
This one came just in time for our most stressful travel day yet :) Here’s an itemised list:
Woke up very early, finished packing, cleaned the airbnb
Drove to the car rental drop off in Rennes - took a wrong exit twice
Road works in Rennes mixed with unclear drop off instructions means we left the car in a random car park in a random parking building.
We get to the Rennes train station, grab a pret, check the timings and our train is delayed 20 minutes. This means we have a VERY tight turn when we get back to Paris. I come to terms with the fact that I might have to buy a whole other eurostar ticket :(
We train to Paris, quickly buy some metro tickets, then zooooooom through the underground tunnel system to our next train. It feels like we’re sprinting, but we’ve all got heavy bags so probably we were not. Happily, we’re all catching the same metro.
After a few stops, we say goodbye to mum and dad :( They get of the metro and rush onwards to try make their connection. Dad serenades us on the way out, then yells out “bonne journeeyyyyyy!!!!” (correctly!!) and many people stare. It’s excellent.
We arrive in Gare du Nord, zoom to our eurostar platform, check the signs and our train has BEEN DELAYED A WHOLE HOUR!!!!!! Because of course it has! Wy wouldn’t it be?
Mum and dad just make their connection, which I still don’t really understand.
All of that chaos happened, while also being Dad’s birthday :’) (And Jared’s. And Janika’s <3)
I honestly don’t know how we managed it, but all of us ended up where we were supposed to be that evening. We were a little bit worse for wear, and a lot delayed, but we made it back to London. And I made friends with the girl I sat next to on the eurostar. Good things can happen on Thursdays; sometimes you just have to squint to see them.
I finish writing this in the kitchen of my new flat. I’ve been back for almost a whole week. I’ve settled in. I’ve been applying to bookstores. I’ve met Coco Mellors. I’ve bought seven books. In a few hours I’ll be 25.
I’m grateful for it all.
Love Madeleine :)
p.s. I’m currently reading Funny Story, Us Against You AND Blue Sisters. Hell yeah.
p.p.s. Current number of books bought: 18? Maybe? I gotta count.
Love love love this. So nice to read about what we all did through your eyes. What fun we’ve had!