France — more than a country, it’s a state of mind

France is a morning croissant with strong coffee. It’s long conversations over wine beneath glowing streetlamps. It’s the scent of lavender in Provence, the salty air of Brittany, the elegant rhythm of Paris, and the deep stillness of the countryside.

My journey began in Paris — a city that always feels like a promise. There’s no need to rush to the Eiffel Tower. Just walk with no destination. You’ll feel the city in every detail: the creak of bikes, the scent of fresh bread, the balconies with iron railings, people reading books at cafés, sipping wine before noon. Paris isn’t a checklist — it’s a feeling.

Next, I headed to Provence, where time seems to slow down. Lavender fields, warm wind, tiny villages where bakeries open at dawn and still knead baguettes by hand. Wine, cheese, honest air, unhurried words and glances — the true France lives in these small details.

Then came the castles of the Loire, street musicians in Lyon, bakeries in Normandy, and the near silence of the Alps. France is as layered as its wine — each region with its own taste, its own mood, and its own quiet.

This isn’t a journey for the bucket list. It’s a meeting — with culture, with beauty, with yourself.Because France isn’t about what you see. It’s about what you feel.