France

April 30, 2026

If you missed my introduction post for this trip, the cliff notes version is that I went on a solo heritage trip through Europe, and my first stop was France. My flight to Paris started with an early morning flight out of Nashville, followed by a long, eight-hour layover in Boston. In my mind, I’d get a decent amount of sleep at home, wake up early, get to Boston, work from the airport, and be tired enough to pass out on the long flight to Paris. Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned. For starters, the night before I left, Nashville had a tornado-warned thunderstorm that kept me awake all through the night. And despite being even extra tired, I only managed to get about one hour’s worth of good sleep on the flight to Paris.

I landed in Paris at 8am local time, and by the time I made my way through customs and immigration, took a train into the city, then a Bolt from the train station to my hotel, it was about 10:30am. I stayed at the Odalys Apart’hotel in Montmartre, just around the corner from the Sacré-Cœur. I knew it was too early to check in, so I planned to drop off my luggage and freshen up in the lobby restroom. However, I was pleasantly surprised when they told me I had a room available and let me check in early. As exhausted as I already was from lack of sleep, I knew the number one rule of jet lag is to not let yourself nap and to just keep trekking along.

After only a few bites of the mediocre airplane breakfast snack, I was getting pretty hangry, but I prioritized walking past the Sacré-Cœur since I was already right there. I had been warned from the internet that the area around the cathedral is full of swindlers, and specifically men who will put a bracelet on a woman’s wrist then demand she pay for it. I’m glad I was prepared because sure enough, after snapping a few photos and making my way down the stairs, I heard a man say “for you!” as he started reaching toward me with a bracelet in his hand. I quickly and assertively said “no” without making eye contact and kept walking away, and that was that.

A friend who has been to Paris several times knew I was staying in Montmartre and recommended the Breizh Cafe, so I stopped in for brunch. From my German lessons on Duolingo, I knew that spring time in Germany means “Spargelzeit”, or “Asparagus Season”, and that they’re all especially obsessed with white asparagus, which is purposefully grown under cover to prevent chlorophyll development. I like regular green asparagus, so this was on my list of foods I wanted to try in Germany. But to my surprise, here it was on the menu at my first restaurant of the trip in France. I ordered a galette with white asparagus, snap peas, brie, salmon, béchamel, and a runny egg. The whole thing was delicious, and my review of the white asparagus is that it was a thicker stalk than I like, but had a milder and less grassy flavor which I enjoyed.

While still in Montmartre, my next priority was visiting the Moulin Rouge. Like any good elder millennial woman, I was obsessed with the movie in college, and while I don’t watch it as often anymore, it’s still one of my all-time favorites. I didn’t care enough to see a show, especially since I knew I wasn’t going to want to be out late, but it was still really fun to see it from the outside.

Knowing that I was short on time to see the city, and that I’ve never been a big museum person, “seeing it from the outside” was my go-to here. And because I was so tired from bad sleep and jet lag, I opted to see most of the sites from the Big Bus Hop-On Hop-Off Tour. From the Moulin Rouge, I planned to take the subway to Champs-Elysées as it was the closest hop-on stop. This is when I learned that not every subway station in Paris has a ticket machine. I then tried to get a digital ticket on the app, but for some reason, the app thought I was spam and blocked me, so I was left with grabbing a Bolt instead. I asked the driver, and he told me that only the main stations have ticket machines, which is good to know.

After viewing the Arc de Triomphe, I hopped on the bus. I stayed on for the next few stops, enjoying the sights along the way, making my first hop-off stop the Eiffel Tower. Easily one of the most iconic landmarks in Europe, it was really special to take it all in, knowing how many people have waited their whole lives to come and see it. It was fun taking some time to people watch as everyone tried to get their best photo with it. As I made my way back toward the bus, I stopped myself and thought, “Wait a minute. Aren’t hop-on hop-off busses supposed to tell you about the sights along the way? I didn’t hear anything on the way here. Did I just get tricked into an overpriced public bus?” Chalk this one up to the jet lag, but after asking an employee about it before getting back on the bus, I learned there’s a huge basket of earbuds for people to grab that plug into your seat, and from there you can choose an audio guide in several languages.

And this is where I found myself in another jet-lag-induced snafu. If you look at the list of stops on the Big Bus website, you’ll see the following: 1. Louvre-Pyramide / Big Bus Information Centre, 2. Louvre – Pont des Arts. I definitely wanted to hop off and see the pyramid, so I got off on that first stop, which was not in front of the pyramid, but in front of the main office for the Big Bus tour. I started to pull up walking directions to the pyramid on Google Maps, but noticed I was standing right in front of a souvenir shop. I like to collect Christmas ornaments everywhere I travel, and I was desperate for some caffeine, so I popped in. I grabbed a little Eiffel Tower ornament and a Coke Zero. Then, following Google Maps, I walked about five minutes down the road and found the pyramid. I took some photos and lingered around while I finished my drink, which means naturally my next task was to find a restroom. I remembered walking by the Louvre gift shop on my way to the pyramid, so I went back that way and found the bathroom (which cost a Euro or two to use).

I consider myself pretty good with directions, but after all that, I couldn’t remember where I had hopped off the Big Bus. I tried using Google, and all I could find was that the second Louvre stop was “near the Pont de Arts”, so I started walking that way instead. It was a nice stroll along the Seine, but once I walked past the Pont de Arts, I realized I still hadn’t found the bus stop. At this point I actually saw one of the Big Busses drive by, and I tried to follow it with my eyes to see where it went, but I lost sight of it before it stopped. Utterly confused, exhausted, and frustrated at this point, I gave up and grabbed a Bolt to where I wanted to go next – the Notre Dame. (The well-rested version of me who is writing this three weeks later can easily see that the Big Bus website has actual mappable addresses for every stop. 🤦🏻‍♀️ My confusion was not their fault and I wouldn’t want it to discourage anyone from choosing to use the Big Bus.)

Sometimes mistakes work out in the end. I would have arrived at the Notre Dame sooner had I known where I was going and got back on the Big Bus right away. But getting there probably 15-30 minutes later means I accidentally walked up just as the church bells starting chiming at the top of the hour. I found a place to sit in the shade (in my excited haste to start sightseeing, I forgot to put on sunscreen) and gave myself some time to decompress from the headache of getting there, and enjoyed a few moments of people-watching. At this point, I decided I had seen everything I cared most about seeing for one day.

I had made dinner reservations at Les Antiquaires, but arrived a bit too early. I was getting a second (or third or forth) wind after resting near the Notre Dame, so I wandered through some beautiful, quiet streets around the restaurant, and popped into a mini market. I always love checking out international snacks, and I wanted a little something for my road trip the next day. Unfortunately, I didn’t see much that sounded appealing that I also thought would survive being in a potentially hot car all day, so all I got was a bottle of water, a bag of chips (flavor: roasted chicken), and some sour gummy candies. I made my way back to the restaurant and had what was one of my favorite meals of the whole trip: Normandy oysters, escargot (the #1 thing I knew I wanted to get in Paris), and duck breast in some sort of yummy sauce with a roasted pear and stacked potatoes.

I had always heard that Paris was overrated and that the locals can be rude. But in my experience, everyone I encountered was kind, and my only complaints about the city itself were due to my own exhaustion from jet lag and lack of sleep. I definitely want to see the south side of France at some point, and when that trip happens, I will plan a full, well-rested day of getting lost (on purpose) in the quieter side streets of Paris. I’d also love to do a nighttime Seine cruise to see all the sparkling lights of the city, something that I knew from the get-go was out of the question for me on this trip.

May 1, 2026

While Paris was an obvious first stop since I had to fly there anyway, my real reason for visiting France was to see the very tiny village of Gorenflos. I rented a car through Sixt and picked it up at the Gare du Nord train station in Paris. The staff was really helpful and pick-up was a breeze, which was quite the opposite experience I had when I returned the car in Munich, but more on that later. Gorenflos is located in the Sommes region of France, about a 30-minute drive northwest of Amiens, which is home to its own Notre Dame – the largest cathedral in the country. One of the first things I learned while planning the details of my trip was that May 1st is a public holiday in France, and that most things would be closed. I wasn’t sure if I’d actually be able to do any real sightseeing in Amiens, but figured it was worth passing through anyway.

I found a small parking lot next to the Notre Dame. I got out of my car and started walking toward a pay meter when a man came up to me and started speaking in French. My first thought was that he was trying to tell me I couldn’t park there for some reason, so I asked “parlez-vous anglais?” and when he said no, I pulled out my trusty Google Translate app. He spoke into it and the translation showed that he was homeless and asking for money. I just shook my head no and kept walking to the parking meter, and we both carried on with our days.

The parking meter didn’t have an English setting, but I thought I figured out how to use it until I noticed I was only charged €0.30, and it looked like it was telling me I could stay parked until 9:30, but it was already 10:00. I walked around the corner and took some photos of the church from the outside. I saw people walking in and decided to follow them. It was stunning inside. I’m so glad I went a little bit out of my way just to see the church. I walked back out to a plaza and was once again approached by someone speaking French. This time, she did also speak English and just wanted me to take a photo of her and her friends. There weren’t many people around, and I seemed to be the only one who wasn’t French. There was a little church gift shop open, but otherwise I could tell everything was closed for the holiday. I started wandering around to take pictures down some side streets, but then I saw some horse cops walk by and I got nervous I was going to get a parking ticket, so I packed it in and left town.

So, about Gorenflos. I researched the town a bit before my trip, and the current population is only 243 people, it’s so, so tiny, which is why I knew I’d need a rental car to get there. My grandma’s maiden name is Gorenflo*, and my dad’s ancestry research shows that our ancestors lived in Gorenflos, France from the mid-13th century until the late 17th century, when they then immigrated to Germany as French Huguenot refugees. There’s a whole 40-page long document some distant cousin wrote up in 1980 about it after he visited all these towns I was going to, and I realized there’s a really good chance I’m the only other American who has been there in the 46+ years since.

^{*Don’t get too hacker-happy, that is not one of my security answers}

The drive to Gorenflos from Amiens was gorgeous, and I wish I had a dash cam on the rental to capture it. There was never a good spot for me to pull over and snap any photos, but I’ll do my best to paint one here with words. I was driving down a small country road, winding over and through a hilly landscape. As far as my eyes could see were fields of yellow floral crops interspersed with another crop with tiny purple flowers. Thanks to Reddit, I later learned the yellow is rapeseed and the purple is linen. I did get a photo of the purple linen, which is posted below.

I turned off the country road onto an even smaller street, and there before me was the village of Gorenflos: a little church with a monument out front, a small pond with a bench, and rows of homes flanking both sides. I kept driving until I reached the end of town, which took about two minutes, and there I was on another country road. I continued for about a mile when I happened upon the next tiny town, Domqueur, which seemed to be just a tiny bit bigger than Gorenflos. Here I noticed several cars parked near their church, and groups of people walking toward the same direction. I saw an older couple and rolled down my window, asking once again, “parlez-vous anglais?”, but of course, they just shook their heads no. I then found a woman closer to my age, and she was able to mutter out “you can…. you can buy” in English. I wasn’t 100% sure what she meant, but assured I wasn’t about to crash some small town wedding or church service, I found a spot to park and walked that way myself.

What I had stumbled upon here was a community yard sale in the church’s backyard. Each family had their own folding table of things to get rid of, with a food truck in the back and a few picnic tables in the middle. It definitely seemed everyone in town was there, and with a population of about 300 people, that’s hardly an exaggeration. While this wasn’t the same town my ancestors came from, and no relatives no matter how distant currently live there, I imagined there was some communal overlap both in the past and present, and it was so fun to walk around and know I was somehow connected to this place and these people through hundreds of years of history. I imagine they were all talking about me amongst themselves, wondering how and why an American had found her way there.

I knew, without question, I had to buy something here, how could I not? There was quite the assortment of your standard yard sale items: someone’s old boring rubber spatula, their grandma’s old costume jewelry, tons of kids’ clothes, as well as some gorgeous dishes that I had no easy way of getting back home. I finally found a box of teensy tiny figurines. Some seemed to be pieces to a nativity scene – an angel, maybe a shepherd, some animals, but nothing that seemed like it would have been baby Jesus. There were also some tiny cakes and other food items, and then a couple Smurfs. I don’t understand this assortment at all, but I ended up picking out a little Smurfette. I had a couple of Euro coins in my wallet and pulled out a handful, not bothering to count how much it added up to, and handed it to the older lady working the table. She took the coins, and I started to walk away, but she goes “no!”, then picked up the whole box of figurines and started handing it to me. I had to use Google Translate again and explain to her that I just wanted one small trinket and that I didn’t have room to bring everything else back to the U.S, and then she gave me most of the coins back.

I got back in my car and went back to Gorenflos and parked along the pond. I took some time walking through an old cemetery at the back of town, but naturally all the ancient tombstones were illegible. I imagine too, that if any ancestors had been buried there, their markers wouldn’t have survived two world wars, let alone time itself. I walked around the outside of the church, took some photos of the homes, and just enjoyed standing in the place where my story began so long ago. I would have loved to sit by the pond and read for a bit, but I had dinner reservations booked in the next major city and I didn’t want to miss them for fear that nothing else would be open because of the holiday. And to give you one more mental picture of how remote this town is, it took me another 30 minutes of driving before I came across any sort of public business, which happened to be a McDonald’s.

In my research the few days before I left for my trip, I was able to find one (1) restaurant on my route that was both open on May 1st and also had a reservation available. The caveat was that it meant eating a weird late lunch/early dinner at 3pm, the only time slot that was left. The restaurant was Les Compagnons de la Grappe in Lille. I was wanting to make a little pit stop in Lille anyway, so this worked out great, and I was still jet lagged enough that I didn’t think twice about the weird mealtime. I ordered Duo de Terrines de ch’Nord for my appetizer – Rabbit terrine with a little side salad. I had never had rabbit nor terrine before, but it was delicious. My main course was Cabrbonade Flamande – a Flemish beef stew that was just okay. I finished my meal with the Cafe Gourmand, a French trend that I desperately need to make its way over to the States. You get an espresso and three tiny desserts. I loved having the variety, and each dessert was so tasty – I had a tiny little almond cake, a baby creme brûlée, and a small cup of chocolate mousse.

All the shops in Lille were closed, but the city was still bustling with people meandering down the streets and lazing in the park. It was such a pretty city, but because there wasn’t anything open, and I still had more driving to do, I didn’t stick around. It’s a place I would love to revisit if I’m in the general area again, but I wouldn’t necessarily go out of the way for it when there’s so much more of the world to see. So I took a few photos and videos, then got back in the car and continued my drive north to Belgium.

To be continued…