What I Pack (note from a Not-Fashion Traveler)

Hello from Marseille,

Last week, I took a quick trip up north to visit my 97-year-old grandma. She’s recently lost her sight, and it’s been deeply unsettling for her. We talked about what it means to go blind—almost overnight.

That afternoon, I wheeled her into the garden of her nursing home. I described everything I could: the flowers, the shapes of the trees, the colors in the sky. We visited the chicken coop, and she lit up at the sound of the chicks. I cut some lavender and made a small bouquet she held to her nose. I’d also brought a raspberry tart—one of her favorites. She savored it slowly, letting each raspberry melt on her tongue.

On the train ride back to Marseille, I kept thinking about how vital our senses are—and how easily we forget that. When they all function, we rarely pause to notice. But when one is taken away, it rearranges your world.

I started asking myself: Which of my senses matters most to me?
It’s hard to choose. But scent? It transports me in a flash—to a childhood memory, a heartbreak, a street corner somewhere far away. Smells make me tear up, sometimes unexpectedly.

That conversation with myself led to a realization: over time, I’ve learned that what I need most when I land somewhere unfamiliar isn’t necessarily practical. It’s sensory. It’s soulful. So today, I’m sharing my sensory suitcase.

This isn’t your typical packing list (I’m not quite a fashion influencer!). It’s a collection of objects, smells, sounds, and textures that bring me back to myself—things that make even the loneliest hotel room in a remote village feel like home.

In my Sensory Suitcase, you’ll find:

SMELL

• Perfume: I wear Avec Amour from Violette_FR. It’s oil-based (safe for sun exposure), travel-sized, and smells like vacations. I wear it daily—and sometimes at night before going to bed.

• Instant refresh: I also carry Aesop’s hydrating spray. The scent is clean and calming, and I now associate it completely with being in transit. I first bought it at Melbourne airport years ago, and it’s been with me ever since.

SEE

• Visual Talismans: I tuck photos, pressed flowers, drawings from my kids, and other tiny treasures into my journal, wallet, books, and bags. They are definitely my new travel essentials.

• Travel Journal: I write during transit—on planes, trains, or early mornings in a new place. I keep journals organized by place, not time. I just got a tiny photo printer from Polaroid to stick snapshots right into the pages. I’m excited about this! I’ll let you know if it turns out to be a fun tool—or just another gadget.

TOUCH

• Multipurpose Fabric: —soft, durable, quick-drying, and multipurpose. I couldn’t find the right one, so I designed my own from heirloom brown cotton, dyed with plants. (You can find it here if you’re curious.)

• Little Tokens: When my daughter was a baby, I kept one of her tiny socks in my pocket while traveling. This was a tip from my friend Molly in New York (hi!), and it worked. It comforted me right away.

LISTEN

• Playlist: I have a playlist on Spotify that evolves with time. I’ve shared it before—it’s full of music that make me feel good everywhere I go.

TASTE

• Tastes of Childhood: When I traveled to India in 2009, my mum gave me a box of Paille d’Or, a biscuit I adored as a kid. Since then, I’ve liked bringing treats from home to save for the quiet, solo days. I almost always pack dark chocolate. French candies from the boulangerie are also a sweet comfort.

I’d love to know: What do you pack to stay grounded? What comforts or sensory objects travel with you? Give me some new ideas!

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And just like that, my suitcase and I were off again—this time for a long weekend in the Alps. We didn’t plan much, just packed the essentials (sensory and otherwise) and drove north. Destination: Queyras.

Queyras in Spring

Last weekend was a four-day holiday in France, so we packed up and headed somewhere completely new to us: Queyras

Queyras is a remote and little-known corner of the French Alps, nestled near the Italian border—just a 3.5 hour-drive away from Marseille, but it feels a world away. Unlike the more polished Alpine destinations, Queyras has stayed wonderfully raw and authentic: quiet villages, ancient stone houses, wild trails, and a deep sense of tradition that still shapes daily life.

Spring in Queyras is something else. The mountains are still capped with snow, but the lower valleys are blooming with wildflowers. You can hike under crisp skies, pass rivers gushing with melted snow, and spot marmots peeking out of the grass. The villages feel alive again after the long winter—open markets return, cheese is at its richest, and shepherds begin to move their flocks up into alpine pastures. There’s a raw, unpolished beauty to Queyras that’s hard to put into words. You have to feel it.

I’ll soon write a suggested itinerary in Queyras. It’s so worth visiting!

A bientot,

Maud