BORDEAUX

In 2015, my husband and I fell in love with the Medoc, the wine-growing region in Southwest France surrounded by the Atlantic Ocean, the Gironde estuary, and the city of Bordeaux. We loved how quiet it was: very few restaurants, hotels, cafes—the opposite of our life in New York City. Yet an hour and a half south is this city that has become one of our favorites. I always fall for places that feel as if they’ve never changed and Bordeaux is very much that. In some ways it reminds me of Paris—parts of the city were also designed by Haussmann, so it has his signature, 19th-century architecture, boulevards, beautiful parks, and squares, but on a much more manageable scale. I can walk all my favorite neighborhoods, a series of charming little quartiers, from one end to the other, in 45 minutes. It also has one of my favorite flea markets in the world at the Basilica of Saint Michel, with stalls and tables piled high with actually good deals.

My favorite places to walk around are Rue Notre Dame in the Chartrons area. It’s filled with antique shops, sweet little bars, and the best bakeries. It’s the quintessential main street and square, without anything overtly commercial. I also love Allee de Tourny, where I always start at the opera house, walk past the historic double-decker carousel and L’Intendant, an excellent wine shop. A few doors down, a wildly opinionated old lady runs a perfumery with a little hand-painted sign. Just down from that is Les Noailles, a brasserie that we love for its classic oysters and sole meunière; I’m sure it looks exactly as it did 70 years ago. Just beyond that is my favorite little flower shop, Sadia Fleur, which always has buckets of hydrangeas, irises, or whatever is in bloom, spilling out onto the street. Next door is the perfect chocolate shop, Cadiot-Badie. The city is just one jewel after another, beautifully preserved. At the end of the street, we always wander into Badie Champagne, a shop that sells only champagne produced by many small houses that you won’t find anywhere else–and their private label bottle, which we always stock up on. There are so many great restaurants in town, but I love La Tupina, which feels like you’re eating in somebody’s home. At the entrance, next to wooden crates of seasonal vegetables and a huge stone fireplace where they grill meat and roast chickens, typical regional comfort food, there’s always a newspaper-wrapped bouquet of flowers on a shelf, looking as if it had been just casually left there. I see in this a microcosm of Bordeaux, where everything feels as if it has been that way and won’t ever change.