When I landed in France, I thought, “How different could it be?” The answer, it turns out, is very.

Let’s start with the walking—so much walking. Paris doesn’t just suggest you walk—it dares you not to. And honestly? I loved it. I walked through history, through neighborhoods that looked like movie sets, and past bakeries that made me want to abandon my return flight entirely. Growing up in California, a car was basically an extension of your body. In France, it felt like my legs finally got their moment to shine.

Paris hit all the classics: I saw the Eiffel Tower (it really is that tall), wandered through the Louvre, and took in the Arc de Triomphe (so much arch, so much triumph). But what stood out the most wasn’t any one monument—it was the lifestyle. People sat outside cafés for hours just talking, or doing absolutely nothing. And the bread. I’m not saying I’d fight a man over a fresh baguette, but I’m also not not saying that.

Nice was another vibe entirely. It felt like someone took California, gave it a French accent, and told it to slow down and look good doing it. The beaches were full of tanned, fit people who looked like they jog for fun. I walked the boardwalk, saw where they host the Cannes Film Festival (yes, I squinted and pretended I was being photographed), and realized that beach culture here doesn’t include burritos—but I forgave them.

Then came Lyon, which I visited for a very specific reason: the Lumière brothers, pioneers of cinema. Nerdy? Maybe. Worth it? Absolutely. There’s something poetic about seeing where film history began, especially in a city that somehow feels both ancient and modern at once.

France surprised me. It felt slower and more thoughtful than what I’m used to. People lingered over meals, walked everywhere, and just seemed… present. There’s a rhythm to life there that I didn’t realize I was missing.

Also, again—the bread. Seriously.

🚶‍♂️ Walk-O-Meter:

8.5/10
My legs earned a baguette-based reward every day.

🍴 Local Treat Report:

Baguette supremacy. Also, how is French butter better? What are they feeding the cows?

😎 How Much of a Local Did I Feel?

3/10. I think the baguette under my arm helped until I asked where the bathrooms were in loud English.

🌴 Things California Never Prepared Me For:

Sitting down for a three-hour lunch.

🔁 Would I Go Back?

Yes—but only if I can walk off all that bread again.