Shells of Deauville
On Hiatus: A Mini Travel Journal
Part 4: Deauville & Trouville
Hi friends,
The city feels like it’s on the precipice of autumn. The season of “la rentrée”, aka back to school season, means that the summer slumber of the city during the month of August has past and the city is back in full swing. Design Week, Women’s Paris Fashion Week, and Journées du Patrimoine are all packed into the month of September, so naturally, Parisians start the month off sprinting.
One of my first spontaneous trips of this past summer was to Deauville and it’s neighboring town, Trouville. Deauville is most famously known for the place where Coco Chanel had her first shop in 1913 and introduced her revolutionary approach to women’s wear. Americans would maybe equivocate it to the “French Hamptons” and since I’ve never been to the Hamptons, I can only speculate this. At the time, it had only been six months since I lost my father and I was desperate to find any sense of joy, any hope. I was struggling (and still am) to navigate life without my father so when a friend of mine offered to take me to outside the city for a little day trip, it was an easy yes.
About a two hour drive from Paris, we arrived firstly in Trouville, a small and seemingly sleepy fishing town. There was a farmer’s market with local vendors selling everything from vintage clothing to traditional French comforts and a fish market that reminded me a lot of Pike’s Place market in my dad’s hometown of Seattle, Washington. In the early afternoon, Trouville was grey and hazy. The town itself felt slow and quiet if it wasn’t for the outdoor market. It was exactly what I imagined for the region of Normandy. Along the seashore, charming homes that looked like dollhouses lined the beach. The combination of grey haze and charm of French homes nestled along the beach made the village feel like a fantasy, a fairytale. Despite it being cold in the morning, I was so excited to see the ocean and collect seashells. Growing up in LA, I didn’t realize how much I physically craved the beach. Over the years, I’ve gotten used to the seasonality of Paris and the long, harsh winters but while I was wandering along the shore of Trouville, I realized it was the first time I even step foot on a beach in France and in many ways, it reminded of home.
Deauville was noticeably more posh and often overshadows it’s neighbor, Trouville. With a small street of luxury stores, hotels, and casino, the air of Deauville felt more flashy and expensive. With a quick Instagram search, I was able to find all the top spots where influencers take their pictures. They include the boardwalk with celebrity names painted on the wooden rails of Art Deco cabanas, the Hôtel Barrière Le Normandy Deauville, and the iconic colorful umbrellas lining the beach. Frankly, Deauville is so small, you can take all of your Instagram-worthy pictures in about twenty to thirty minutes. But of course, if you happen to find yourself on the beach of Deauville, then one must naturally enjoy the beach.
By the afternoon, the sun had come up and the town felt transformed from a moody and grey village to a vacation hot spot. We found a spot on the beach next to Parisians turning pink in the sun and families playing in the sand. The ocean was sparkling and inviting and I couldn’t wait to jump in fast enough. Between the salty taste of the sea and grainy texture of the sand on my skin, I couldn’t feel happier to enjoy life’s simple pleasures. So far from home yet so close to that feeling of being happiest by the sea came rushing back to me. Though I was convinced of my new identity as a city girl all these years living in Paris, stepping into the sea of Normandy reminded me that I am very much a seaside soul to the core.
From tanning to collecting seashells on the beach, I soaked up every second on the shores of Deauville. It’s true that there are some things that only nature can heal. It provides us with a deeper connection and a reminder that what is precious is actually free: a seashell as unique as a fingerprint, vitamin D from the warmth of sunshine, and exfoliation from the sandy beach. Maybe it’s bit of a metaphor or a reflection of ourselves as humans that two neighboring towns, Deauville and Trouville, can be so similar but worlds apart. Like my life in Paris versus my life back in LA, one more glamorous than the other but not with any less value. My time in Deauville helped me to find similarities in the foreign and comfort in the unexpected. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter if you spend the day in Deauville or Trouville as long as you visit both and decide for yourself which place is worth visiting.
As always, thanks for reading.
Until next time,
Kiana