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Bonjour the France!

Our 2015 summer trip to France.

Leaving, Flying, Arriving

There is no way to ease these early-morning departures; I didn’t even try to get a full night’s sleep. What do I need to be rested and alert for, anyway?

Don’t Lick Your Computer Screen

While we are flying from the old world to the new continent, enjoy some bread and pastries on me.
Just don’t lick your computer screen.
You can find all the pic­ture in the France 2015 set.

Postcards of Nantes

I always tell Feng he is lucky that I'm from a sizable city and not Trifouillis-les-Oies (a French euphemism for "out in the sticks").

At Least, the Ocean is Polite

It takes my eyes a second or two to get used to the darkness. Inside the bakery, the blinds are closed and I’ve just walked the two-kilometre-long road along the beach under the midday sun.

Cookies Heaven

“Fifty euro worth of cookies? Are you crazy?” I thought. A pack costs about €1.15 at the supermarket. Fancier cookies are slightly more expensive, but still, we are talking less than €3. And then we...


In addition to locals and tourists, there are roughly four kinds of people who hang out in the streets of Nantes: homeless people, street artists, beggars from Eastern Europe and “guys with dogs”.

Not (Really) Guilty

“You’ve never visited the Courthouse?” “I didn’t even know you could go inside!” “Feng and I have been there a few times. They let you in as long as you don’t linger. They probably don’t want tons of...

Conquer Your Fears

This year, the first time we walked by the carousel, Mark asked for a ride. “Are you sure?” I asked. “I’m not going with you, I’m standing on the side.” “Not scared.”


Train tracks just outside the city offer a gritty scenery—giant scars punctuated by wires and posts with huge metal monsters going full speed.

Industrial Wasteland on a Rainy Day

Some days are sunny, some days are cloudy and some days are—gasp!—rainy. I grew up in Nantes, I can take rain. In Canada, when rain is forecast, people don’t even go out. In Nantes, it’s business as...

Walking While Female

Is he talking about my ass? Probably. The street is empty, it’s past 8 p.m. and it’s a quiet Monday night. There are no other asses around.