Our magical French Holiday
Sometimes we know exactly where we’re going for our holidays — and other times, we have absolutely no clue. This past summer, we only knew one thing: we’d be spending it somewhere in France. That decision was made the moment Imagine Dragons announced their EU tour. They’re Z’s favorite band, and after I took him to see Justin Timberlake last summer, he caught the concert bug. Honestly, that’s one bug I was happy for him to catch.
We started our trip in Lille, a charming city not far from Paris. Rob’s been there before — he was invited to speak at a conference — but it was Z’s and mine first time. We also knew we’d spend at least one night in Paris. If you’re thinking, “Of course, because Paris is magical and full of culinary treats,” you’d be wrong. I mean, yes, it is magical, but the real reason my boys wanted to go was Chipotle. Yep, that Chipotle. It’s pretty much the only thing they miss from the U.S. So we planned one night in Paris purely for burritos before heading to our final destination.
Originally, we thought we might squeeze in Disneyland, but visions of summer heat, long lines, and soaring prices quickly killed that idea. A friend suggested Biarritz instead — a place I’d never even heard of. Fifteen minutes of research later, I was sold.
This whole trip was train-only, which turned out to be easy and surprisingly affordable. We took the train from Amsterdam to Lille (about three hours). After checking into our hotel, we wandered the cobbled streets, waiting for dinner hours to roll around — since everything in Lille and most of France closes mid-afternoon and reopens at seven. We passed the time with drinks (apple juice for Z) and endless rounds of Go Fish and Slapjack. When dinner finally rolled around, we found a taqueria called Nomas. I know, I know — Mexican food in France?! But when you live in the Netherlands, you understand. Finding good tacos is a quest. And wow, Nomas did not disappoint. Best tacos we’ve had since Portugal.
The next day was the big one — Imagine Dragons Day. Z woke up vibrating with excitement, so we had to get him out of the hotel before he exploded. About a 20-minute walk from our hotel is Parc de la Citadelle, a huge green park with a zoo, an amusement area (Cita Parc), and one of the best ropes courses I’ve ever seen — complete with a zip line over a lake. It was still early, so everything was closed, but we walked the trails anyway, surrounded by morning light. Then, out of nowhere, the sky opened up. We huddled under a tree, laughing, until the rain eased. We’ll definitely go back one day to see the rest.
The concert was about a 45-minute train ride away, doors opened at 7 and since we had standing-room tickets, we wanted to get there early. The only challenge? Dinner. At 4:30 p.m., nothing is open in France. Our only real option was La Place, a quick-service chain that turned out fine — fries, Caesar salad, a little rosé, no complaints. Then, in true Landers fashion, as we approached the stadium, Z realized he’d left his phone at the restaurant. Panic! Thankfully, one quick call later, they’d found it and held it for us.
The lines were already massive when we arrived, but we didn’t care. There was food, wine and ice cream trucks nearby, and the anticipation was electric. We all got a treat and waited patiently. When the band finally came on, the look on Z’s face — singing every word, a tear in his eye — was everything. Three hours of pure magic. One of those nights you know will live in your heart forever. The next day, he even had what I can only describe as an emotional hangover.
Next stop: Paris. Just a quick hour-and-a-half train ride away. We checked in and went straight to Chipotle, of course. Rob and Z’s excitement was contagious, and honestly, seeing my boys so happy made me happy too. I would eventually go back and try one of the many French bistros on my list. That night, we took a slow walk to see the Eiffel Tower all lit up — We had only been to Paris during the day so this was something we’d never done before. It really is every bit as stunning as you’d imagine.
The next morning, we boarded a four-hour train to Biarritz — the part of the trip I’d been waiting for. From the train station, a quick €35 taxi took us to the Sofitel, right on the beach. Biarritz is famous for surfing — it’s actually where European surfing began back in the 1950s when a few Californians came scouting beaches. The town feels like stepping into a sun-drenched postcard from the past. Slower pace, soft sea breeze, waves crashing in the distance.
Too early to check in, we left our bags and grabbed lunch at a sea side retauant and hit the pool. That night, we found Jack the Cockerel, a lively spot with sea views. Z — my picky eater — even tried and loved the fish and chips. It was so good we went back for lunch a few days later.
The next morning, we set out to walk the cliffslide trail to the Biarritz Lighthouse, built in 1834 to guide ships safely along the rocky Basque coast. You can climb 248 steps for sweeping views of the Atlantic — a bit of a workout, but so worth it. Admission is €5 for adults and €3 for children, and the best time to go is early morning or just before sunset when the light hits the coast in gold. We lucked out — just as we reached the top, the clouds parted and the sun broke through. It was breathtaking.
After that, it was all about the beach. We rented bodyboards for a few days and spent hours riding waves and picnicing on the beach. The waves are powerful, but when you catch the right one, it’s pure joy.
That evening we strolled along the coast to Rocher de la Vierge — “The Rock of the Virgin.” The statue there was placed by fishermen in 1865 after a storm they miraculously survived. The sea was wild that night, waves crashing over the promenade, soaking anyone who lingered too close. Z thought it was the best thing ever. We wandered until we stumbled upon Palmito, a trendy food hall with five different restaurants — Rob and Z had tacos (again!) I had a poke bowl. Palmito has laid-back vibe. We loved it so much we went back the next day for brunch and some exploring.
No trip to Biarritz is complete without trying a few pintxos — Basque-style bar snacks similar to tapas but uniquely their own. Some of our favorites were at Le Bar Basque and Bistrot Etxeko.
Biarritz is luxury without pretense — a place where even Michelin restaurants feel casual, and there are no private beaches. Our days fell into a lovely rhythm: morning coffee on the balcony, lazy beach hours, amazing dinners followed by wine on the beach admiring some of the most breathtaking sunsets . Each night, Z rebuilt his sandcastle only to watch the waves wash it away — and each night, he perfected it a little more.
On our last night, we kept things simple: pizza, wine, and a picnic on the beach as the sky turned pink and gold. The perfect ending to our magical Fench Summer.
Paris, Nice, an other more travelled cities may have their magic, but there’s something about Biarritz — a quieter, slower kind of magic that lingers. Head southwest. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.
Where We Stayed:
Lille — Novotel Lille Centre Grand Place: A modern, comfortable hotel right in the city center — perfect for exploring Lille on foot and close to great dining.
Paris — Novotel Paris Centre Tour Eiffel: Spacious family rooms with views of the Seine, an easy base for a quick Paris stopover.
Biarritz — Sofitel Biarritz Le Miramar Thalassa Sea & Spa: Elegant and right on the beach, with an incredible sea-view pool. Falling asleep every night to the sound of the waves is worth every euro.
“The real magic of travel isn’t in how far you go, but how slowly you let a place change you.”
