The last few days of 2023 were going to be a fun adventure with my new friend Jenny who I met in Florence whilst she was also studying Italian.  With her boyfriend back in Paris being away for work, and me being eternally single, we decided to meet for a snowy mountain getaway to ring in 2024.  Grenoble, France, was to be the star of the show.  Why Grenoble you ask (seeing as you've probably never heard of it either)?  Jenny has a friend who lives there and she said it was nice, plus I suffer from decision making paralysis when it involves someone else. 

Unfortunately, the Universe had other plans and Jenny was delayed two days thanks to a pipe bursting in the London end of the Eurostar tunnel.  Despite knowing I’d spend yet another NYE on my own, I decided to head off to Grenoble as planned - also having a non-refundable ticket meant I had to.  I may have been alone but at least I would be in France!  The journey kicked off in Florence, and after a couple of espresso shots to wake me up, I hopped on a train headed for the land of baguettes and berets.

Even though the 10.5 hour journey was going to be a long one, I was very excited for the landscapes, views and romantic notions of train travel.  The train route was like a scenic tour through Europe. First stop: Milan. No time to linger, disembark one train and hop on to another bound for Brig, Switzerland.  As the train wove its way around Lake Maggiore, through small Northern Italian towns that shimmered in the crisp winter sun, I received an email from our AirBNB host cancelling our reservation thanks to a cockroach infestation. 

Whilst we were very happy to not be sharing the space with a family of insects, trying to find a new apartment for four days the day prior to NYE, whilst on a train with terrible WIFI was a problem I wasn’t anticipating having to fix.  Waiting on the train at the Swiss border for border force to inspect passports, I was manically trying to find a hotel that wasn’t going to cost me my first born and let’s face it, at the rate I’m going in finding a partner to actually have children with, it’d be a debt outstanding forever.  Hotel rooms finally located, movement of money from one account to convert it to Euros in the other done, all whilst trying not come across as someone with something to hide to the very handsome passport inspector.

Two and a half hours later, Brig greeted me with a chilly breeze and a teaser of the winter wonderland to come.  I had been dreading the 7 minute timeframe to change trains for Geneva since booking the ticket.  I envisioned a really bad episode of Supermarket Sweep (if you don’t know that old tv show you’re lucky - just envision carnage with a supermarket trolley and a countdown).  However, thank you to comfortable footwear and the relay sprint races of my youth for the training, I made it on to the train, although unsure if it was the right train because the changeover was a blur between poorly read signage and pure adrenaline.  It wasn’t until the third last stop that I was sure I did make it on the correct train.  French announcements are really hard to understand, are they even speaking words?

With the afternoon light fading, the train bustled along Lake Geneva, sparkles reflecting off the surface of the water and glimpses of a distant silhouette of the Alps emerged above.  The landscape change from Italy to Switzerland and then to France was quite dramatic.  Finally, with the sun having set hours prior, the train arrived at Grenoble and I was welcomed by 4 degrees and a relatively deserted station.

Grenoble, often overshadowed by its more famous French siblings, welcomed me with open arms for the two days I spent there before Jenny arrived.  2024 was rung in by taking aperitivo and dinner in the hotel restaurant, watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3 on my laptop and heading to bed with the beginnings of a cold.  Jenny arrived the next day and there was no time to waste.  After checking in to Jenny’s room and with buckets of energy, we set off to explore.  Our first stop, Les Bulles.  Nope it’s not a fancy soap store, it’s the iconic round cable cars that whisked us away to the Fort at Bastille. The view from up there was breathtaking, with the city and mountains spread out like a panorama. 

Being new year’s day, a lot of the major museums were closed, but we filled the day by wandering around with ease.  To finish off hours of exploring we decided to partake in a classic dinner of the region, fondue.  Cheese, glorious cheese!  Well maybe not glorious to lactose intolerant people, but for us, what a treat!  A steaming hot pot of three cheeses, wine, herbs and spices.  Walking back to the hotel in a dairy coma in crisp winter air was truly magical.

The following day we wanted to pretend we were owners of a grand chateau so we made our way to Chateau de Vizille, a truly historical gem. Stepping into its grandeur felt like a leap back in time. The chateau, once a residence for French nobility, boasted beautifully landscaped gardens and rooms filled with stories from centuries past.  It bore the beginnings of the French Revolution you know.  Completed by a fantastic three hour dinner at a Bouillon and some questionable pear liquor later (it tasted more like rocket fuel than pear) the day was delightful.  Did I try snails you ask?  Yes I did, and I loved them because anything covered in parsley, garlic and butter is delicious.  They don’t taste like chicken and they do have a strange texture, but when in France you must try them.

As we bid farewell to Grenoble and hopped on a train bound for Paris, we were very happy with our time spent in the city that hosted the 1968 Winter Olympics.  A rather late train into Paris and trusty McDonalds for dinner we laid our heads down for a restful night’s sleep, at 3am. 

Bonjour Paris!  A leisurely start to the morning and a welcomed coffee, croissant and a baguette for one later on (I love me some bread), we set off to our first destination, Cimetière du Père-Lachaise.  This famous cemetery in the middle of the 20th arrondissement, added a touch of melancholy as we strolled among the resting places of the famous souls of Balzac, Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde.  Cemeteries aren’t often described with adjectives such as grand, beautiful, majestic and tranquil, but this one holds all those characteristics. 

Taking the Metro to Montmartre to see its most notable landmark, the Sacrè Coeur, we were greeted with an overwhelming amount of crowds, charming streets and a bustling cafè and restaurant culture.  To be honest, the scammers and gypsies outside the Sacrè Coeur ruined my opportunity to truly take in the surroundings but Montmartre in general holds a special artistic allure and the cobbled streets captivated my heart.  By chance we stumbled across the Museum of Montmartre which happened to be the home of Renoir.  This house was where the Impressionism art style was founded, and truly great artists lived within the rooms we were now walking.  Truly mind blowing.

The next day we took our trusty steed, the Metro, towards the area of the Louvre.  We didn’t book tickets to go inside, but the sheer size of this previous Palace on its own is unbelievable, let alone the treasures that lay within its walls.  We strolled through the Jardin de Tuileries and in to the sixth arrondissement of St. Germain for a chic blend of history and modernity. Jardin du Luxembourg offered a peaceful retreat and whilst I don’t recommend coming to Paris in Winter due to the obvious lack of greenery, the garden and its famous green chairs offered a welcomed rest to turn our face to the sun for a moment.  We enjoyed a leisurely lunch in a cute bistro, a warming glass of Bordeaux and some interesting people watching whilst sheltering from a sudden shower of rain.  A stroll along the Seine and a detour past Notre Dame, we returned to Jenny’s Parisian apartment for a relaxing night in. Perfect.          

After a week in France, I hopped on a train back to Florence.  The journey home was going to be even longer and I was sick as a dog, but I had a full heart and a stomach full of French delights. Grenoble and Paris, with their distinct charms, had become the perfect backdrop for bidding adieu to one year and welcoming another.  Don’t tell the French but I must admit I was extremely happy to be back home surrounded by the language I love, in the city that now feels familiar and in my own bed.  Hello 2024.

*Bonus appreciation pictures for the food. It deserves its own photo gallery.