Why you keep ending up back in Paris.

Planning a French countryside trip sounds romantic. Until you actually try to do it.

You open a tab. Then another. Suddenly you’ve got fifteen towns bookmarked, three different regions, and a Pinterest board that’s beautiful and completely useless. Someone says Provence. Someone else says the Dordogne. A forum from 2019 insists on the Loire Valley.

And then you end up back at Paris. Because at least you know how to plan Paris.

It’s not that the information isn’t out there. It’s just scattered. Half of it’s outdated, the other half assumes you already know where you’re going.

And the towns that are actually worth it? Those are the ones no one has properly explained.

Here’s what actually happens when you try. You find a town. It looks incredible. You search for it and get three TripAdvisor reviews from 2016, a blog post that lists the same four things everyone lists, and a hotel recommendation that may or may not still exist. You can’t find out what it’s actually like to be there. You can’t find out whether March is miserable or magical. You can’t find out if it’s worth two nights or three. So you either commit blind — or you move on.

Most people move on.

I’ve been going to France for years. And I kept having the same experience — finding a town, falling for it, and then being unable to find anyone who could tell me what I actually needed to know. Not the highlights. The real stuff. What month to go. Where the locals eat. Whether the drive from the next town is worth it or punishing.

I started keeping my own notes. And eventually I thought — someone else needs this.

When I sat down to think about which towns to cover, I didn’t start with a list of the most famous or the most photographed. I thought about the towns I kept going back to. The ones that had stayed with me. And what struck me was how different they all were — not just in location, but in what they actually give you. A coastal town that feels nothing like the rest of the coast. A wine town where the culture is entirely edible. A medieval town so perfectly preserved it barely feels real. A quiet Roman town that makes you think about slowing your whole life down. A mountain town with water so clear you assume it’s been edited.

Five completely different experiences. Five towns I’d send a well-travelled friend to without hesitation.

Annecy is the one that doesn’t quite register when you first see it. The water, the light, the whole setting — it feels slightly unreal. You end up just standing there longer than you meant to.

Uzès is the one that makes you think, I could live here. Nothing’s trying too hard. You just start noticing things — the market, the square, the little shops you almost miss.

Cassis feels like the version of the coast that hasn’t been overdone. Working harbour, boats out early, the Calanques right there behind it. The sea is the point.

Sarlat is almost too perfect at first. Golden stone, narrow streets, all of it. And then you eat, and you realise where you are. The Dordogne takes food seriously.

Beaune is for wine, but not in a casual way. This is where it actually comes from. Cellars under the streets, vineyards just outside town. You slow down without really meaning to.

I couldn’t help myself. I’ve put it all in one place — everything I want to know before I go somewhere and everything I want to know when I’m still deciding. Not just places to stay and eat, but what each month actually looks like, what there is to do, and what’s worth the drive beyond the town.

It’s the French Country Towns Guide.

Available HERE and as a thank you: use code NATALIE15 for 15% off.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​