May, Noted
On conversations, Parisian pauses, and building something meaningful.
Hello friend,
One of the things I’ve always noticed after returning home from Europe in the spring is how far behind we are in Ontario, Canada.
I can spend April walking through Paris or Madrid surrounded by blossoms, only to come home to bare branches and the feeling that winter hasn’t quite finished with us yet.
This month, that finally changed.
The trees are full. The vineyards are turning green. The fruit trees are beginning to bloom.
I’ve been taking long walks close to home and, every now and then, I catch myself feeling like I’m somewhere else entirely. Living in Niagara wine country has its moments. Certain country roads remind me of parts of Germany. Others could easily be tucked into a wine region in France or Italy.
Perhaps that’s one reason I enjoy returning to places so much. The longer you pay attention, the more connections you start to notice.
Anyway, before we turn the calendar to June, here are a few things I shared, noticed, and read this month.
Something I Shared
May was a busy month around here.
Four months ago, I made the decision to come to Substack to write. What I didn't expect was how much I would enjoy the community and conversations.
One of those conversations became the first edition of Just Between Us, a new series where I sit down with someone whose way of moving through the world I genuinely want to understand, ask five questions, and see where the conversation takes us. Leave It To Anna was my first guest.
I created this new monthly series because I genuinely want to learn from the people I meet here and introduce you to voices you may not have discovered otherwise. At its heart, it’s about curiosity, learning, and community.
Another happened live. I joined Barbara - Timetobeitalian for my first Substack Live, where we explored a shared belief that travel is often better when we stop trying to see everything.
I'll admit, I enjoyed it far more than I expected. I usually prefer being behind the camera rather than in front of it.
I also spent time building something I’ve wanted to create for a while: the Close Circle.
Writing can be a surprisingly solitary pursuit. Creating the Close Circle felt like one small step toward building a more connected space for travellers who value meaningful experiences.
Each month, I create something special for Close Circle members (paid subscribers). It’s where I share exclusive bonus offers like planning frameworks, practical tools, thoughtful recommendations and the little details that often make the difference between a good trip and a memorable one.
This month, I created two new resources for the Close Circle: The Unrushed Itinerary Method and The Unrushed Notebook.
Bonus Offer #1:
I Finally Put My Travel Philosophy Into a Method
Have you ever returned home from a trip feeling like you saw everything… but somehow didn’t fully experience it?
The Unrushed Itinerary Method wasn’t something I sat down and invented. It was only after years of planning my own trips that I realized I had been following the same framework all along.
Bonus Offer #2:
I Created Something to Help You Slow Down While Travelling
One of the first things I do when I arrive somewhere is leave my suitcase unopened and step out for a little while. I find a table somewhere close by, order a glass of wine, something small to eat, and I sit.
The Method and Notebook both grew out of the same observation: travellers rarely regret seeing too little. More often, they regret not having enough time to enjoy what they have already chosen.
And that question led me to write this article:
Why Your Trip Feels Rushed
Most trips don’t feel rushed when you’re planning them. They feel thoughtful, well-paced, like you’ve found that balance between seeing what matters and still having time to enjoy it.
Something I Noticed
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how often travel encourages us to move toward the next thing.
The next sight. The next reservation. The next photo.
And yet, some of the places I remember most aren’t the ones I rushed to see. They’re the ones where I slowed down enough to notice what was already there.
That idea showed up in several things I wrote this month.
First, I questioned whether more information is actually helping us travel better. We have endless recommendations now, yet deciding what to do seems harder than ever.
I Think We’ve Made Travel Too Complicated
Somewhere near the Spanish Steps, I overheard a couple trying to plan the rest of their day over lunch.
It appeared again while writing about Île de la Cité. Most people come for Notre-Dame, but what keeps drawing me back are the narrow streets, flower markets, and quiet corners that exist just beyond it.
Most People Come to Île de la Cité for Notre-Dame. I Come Back for Everything Else.
Most people arrive at Île de la Cité looking for one thing.
The same thing came to mind while writing about those green metal chairs scattered throughout Parisian gardens. I think what fascinates me isn't the chairs themselves, but what they represent: permission to pause without feeling like you should be somewhere else.
A Slow Return (No. 4)
This is one of three monthly themed newsletters. A Slow Return is my way of sharing what I’ve learned along the way: the pleasures of returning, the joy in small rituals, and the little discoveries that slow travel makes possible.
And finally, Palais-Royal.
I return every time I’m in Paris. Not because there’s a long list of things to do there, but because there isn’t. It’s elegant, peaceful, slightly tucked away, and one of the few places in the city where I find myself slowing down automatically.
One Meaningful Moment Is Enough for a Good Day in Paris
Some places in Paris ask you to keep moving. Palais-Royal does the opposite.
Something I Read
One of the unexpected gifts of Substack has been discovering people I never would have met otherwise.
This month, I found myself reading about everything from architecture and travel to building a creative life. One piece that stayed with me came from a fellow Canadian Riana | Teaspoon of Adventure, who reflected on spending nine months travelling abroad with her young family. I love reading stories that challenge conventional ideas of how life is supposed to look.
The same is true of the creators I continue to discover here. Abbie In France announced that her Visa to move to France was approved, or Mary | Architecture Atlas writes about historic architecture and the places to stay beside it, which feels particularly fitting given that architecture remains one of my favourite subjects to photograph when I travel.
The generosity of this community continues to surprise me.
This month, I received recommendations from both Sif Orellana and Rare Finds - Luxury Travel. Sif described my writing as “a quiet invitation to slow down and actually feel the places you visit,” while Robyn of Rare Finds shared that my approach helps travellers move beyond the usual checklist and create more meaningful journeys, mentioning a recent Italian itinerary I helped her navigate.
For most of my career, I was known as an HR executive. Writing was something I loved privately, never imagining it would one day become such a central part of my life. Which is why words like these still catch me off guard.
And then there was another milestone.
This month, we crossed 1,000 subscribers.
As someone who arrived on Substack only a few months ago, that number feels less important than what sits behind it: thoughtful comments, conversations, recommendations, and the feeling that this little community is beginning to find one another.
Thank you for reading, replying, sharing, and being here. It means more than you know.
Wow Renee, what a thorough May wrap up! So many beautiful photographs and so many thoughtful insights into slowing down our travels. My sister was the one who sent me your Substack months ago, and I have absolutely loved following along these past few months. Perhaps you can come visit once we are settled in France!
Renee, a theme running quietly through this entire reflection is that community seems to have become an extension of your travel philosophy. The same curiosity, patience, and attentiveness that shape how you experience a place also appear to shape how you engage people. That may be why the growth you describe feels so organic; it reads less like audience-building and more like the gradual formation of a gathering place for people who share similar values. Congratulations on the milestone, and thank you for continuing to model a slower, more intentional way of moving through both travel and conversation.