This morning I found myself walking through a beautiful botanical garden in a nearby town. The kind of place you don’t rush through. Right at the entrance there was an archway covered in wisteria, soft purple flowers hanging down in clusters, the scent gently drifting as I walked beneath it. Beyond that, winding paths opened into small gardens, each one filled with its own mix of colors and texture. Some carefully arranged, others a little wild, all of it inviting you to slow down. I was not in a hurry and neither was Lucy; Sundays feel different in France. . I decided to go on a new adventure and find a new walking trail while discovering a new area. The walk was described as walking through a variety of gardens leading to the lake of the city, Lac Bourget.
Arriving at the park the day turned out to be sunny with not a cloud in the sky. We both were eager to get out of the car and explore each for our own reasons. Lucy stopped often, taking her time to sniff and explore as if the entire morning had been created just for her curiosity. During this walk is when it really settled the specialness of Sundays. Sundays in France takes it to another level to what I am used to. Most stores are closed, almost all of them. Saturdays carry a completely different energy, with markets and shops full of people preparing for the week ahead. But Sunday arrives and everything shifts. A few larger grocery stores open for a short time in the morning, and there is even one in the old part of Annecy that stays open a bit longer.
Still, the message is clear: today is not a day for errands.
Sundays Feel Different in France
You can feel it in the streets. The traffic is lighter and the pace slows. Parks fill with people, but not in a busy way, more in a lingering, unhurried way. People walking, sitting, talking, simply being outside.
I know Sundays as a day of rest are not unique to France. We have that idea in many places, including the US. But what I am noticing here is that it is actually lived. Even if you think about running out to do something quickly, you realize….you can’t. Everything is closed. And instead of being frustrating, it becomes freeing.
You stop reaching for what needs to be done.
You settle into what the day is offering.
Today, that meant walking through gardens, following quiet paths toward the lake, letting time stretch a little. There was no plan, no list no pressure to turn the walk into anything more than what it already was.
The pressure of doing was gone. My focus shifted, almost without effort, to simply being.
It made me think regardless of where we live, there is something in creating a slow Sunday, whatever that looks like. It’s a day where not much is expected. A day where you don’t have to fill every hour.
A day to rest a little.
To wander a little.
Thanks for being here,
-Soraya
Living in France as a Retired Expat: What Daily Life Feels Like
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