April in France

Bonjour, c’est Véro

I have a confession to make: I enjoy traveling around my homeland with foreign visitors but touring season also delivers an exercise in frustration. Guiding still provides a chance to teach (Dieu Merci. Thank goodness) but what about writing?

There’s little time on the road while I focus on groups of 25 to 28 travelers to share more than French Vignettes here on Substack.

C’est dommage. Too bad.

I love writing.

Home for a couple of days before my next assignment. I thought I’d stop by for a quick chat.

Comment ça va ? How are you?

“En avril ne te découvre pas d’un fil. En mai, fais ce qu’il te plaît.” French proverb.

Meaning? Don’t be too optimistic. In April, don’t take off a thread (of clothing.) In May, do as you please.

April with its longer days and warmer temperatures can be a tour guide’s (and a traveler’s) nightmare: Mornings and evenings are still cool but things warm up during the day. What to pack? Layers, bien sûr, lightweight, packable puffer vests or jackets (Merci Uniqlo!) and comfortable sneakers (dressy ones, sturdy ones, branded ones etc.)

Comfort can meet elegance, a lesson many French women took decades (and a few generations) to learn. Back in the late 1980s during a cold winter when snow stuck along Parisian sidewalks and another massive public transportation strike hit the French capital, the army was sent in to help locals during their commute. I’ll never forget the sight of Parisian women treading through a few inches of snow in their high-heeled shoes and climbing in the back of army trucks along the Champs-Elysées. We didn’t have Instagram or YouTube then. Those moments live only in our collective memories and now in this Lettre de France.

That was the time I (and other French cinephiles) fell in love with Melanie Griffith in Working Girl. Parisiennes likely smiled when they saw Tess McGill (Griffith) trade her white high-tops for pumps when she arrived at the office. — Ah, ces Américaines !

Meanwhile fashion gurus admonished American tourists on their way to Paris to drop the white sneakers. Pas de faux-pas!

How times have changed n’est-ce-pas? Sneakers are all the rage in France and the rest of Europe. No age (or socio-economic) group is spared it seems.

Last week in Paris I spotted the ever popular beige trench coat on some locals but even more so on visitors. — Le Trench: What better way to blend in? There were a few bérets too and let me tell you, Green Berets have changed a lot since John Wayne days!

Theresa Conroy, a French student of mine and American immigrant based in Rennes, Brittany, published a great piece about the museum experience a few days ago on her Substack. The article’s titled “Inhibition at the Exhibition” and starts with an ominous statement: “I hate museums.” Come to think of it, we can all relate to Theresa’s complaints about crowds, selfies or inconsiderate visitors.

As a tour director a few months a year I spend a lot of time in museums all over the country. Since I follow the same tours on a regular basis I’ve had to find ways of staying engaged while local experts lead our visitors through major landmarks. My job? Keeping an eye on travelers and ensuring no one gets left behind in the massive crowds that continue to descend upon France in 2026. If this were le Tour de France (the iconic cycling race) I’d be la voiture balai (the sweep vehicle.)

A few days ago in Versailles, here’s what our travelers saw:

Meanwhile I was on a mission to spot dogs and attractive footwear. — Versailles delivered (yes, I can multi-task!)

All joking aside our travelers had a great time. When they weren’t exploring Paris on their own I took them through favorite spots (prioritizing quiet corners away from the mêlée,) guided a leisurely walk in my old college neighborhood, le Marais and introduced them to café life at the unassuming local establishment where I used to hang out with fellow students so many years ago. They all ordered in French (“Bonjour, un café noisette, s’il vous plaît!”) and made me proud.

My new friends understood early on that flexibility is a prerequisite while visiting Paris. The lesson sank in on our second day while commuting to Montmartre on dreadful Line 8 when trains suddenly stopped running (an increasingly common occurrence on that line.) Someone had to come up with plan B tout de suite.

{Note to the friendly France with Vero follower who spotted me in the metro station that morning and tried to strike up a conversation: Forgive me. I was in the process of rescuing 25 people and get them to la Butte de Montmartre on the other side of town.}

Like in every Asterix and Obelix adventure some of our days wrapped up with a delicious meal. Those with a sweet tooth never complained.

We fed our bodies…

We fed our minds…

On the last night we said “Au revoir,” grateful for a fun, educational week and new friendships.

When you read this story I’ll be on my next assignment: taking a new group from Paris to the Loire Valley, from Brittany to Normandy and back to Paris in 11 days.

On y va ! La Belle France awaits.

If you enjoy my writing and are interested in spotting the best footwear (and cutest dogs) in France consider subscribing to Lettres de France or upgrade your membership for the cost of a (used) pair of white high-top sneakers. Your support means a lot to the gal in charge of driving the “sweep vehicle” so no North American tourist gets left behind. Eh oui.

At the very least help me spread the word and share this story generously with francophile friends interested in exploring Paris and France with a native - Moi.

Merci beaucoup.

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A bientôt. Le devoir m’appelle. Duty calls.

Véronique