I finished The Nightingale on a Tuesday night, and I sat there in the dark for twenty minutes before I could move.
It wasn’t just the story. It was the sisters.
Vianne, who stayed home and did the impossible, invisible work of keeping children alive while the world burned around her. Who felt love in the worst possible circumstances and carried the shame of survival. Who played nice with the enemy because that’s what it took.
And Isabelle, the rebellious one who refused to play nice. Who fought ruthlessly, recklessly, because sitting still felt like surrender. Who chose the dangerous path because the safe one wasn’t in her DNA.
Two sisters. Two kinds of courage. And both of them tortured by the choices they made.
I closed the book and thought: I need to go there. Not to Paris. Not to the France on postcards. To the France where those two kinds of courage lived.
And then I thought about my grandfather.
What I loved about The Nightingale wasn’t just the beautiful writing or the heartbreaking plot. It was how each sister served her people in drastically different ways.
Vianne stayed home and cared for her daughter and other children while her husband fought in the war. She was forced to play nice with the German soldiers to keep her family alive. She felt love for one soldier despite the horrible situation she was in and was tortured by the second that she was forced to live with in her home. She did what she had to do to keep herself and the kids alive. Her struggle was felt on every page.
Isabelle was the rebellious child who probably always went against the grain. She fought ruthlessly to destroy the German army and the torture they inflicted on her country and the allied soldiers. She was determined to do whatever she had to do to save the soldiers and fight the Germans.
I loved the contrast of the sisters’ battles. Vianne fought for the children and Jewish people while Isabelle fought for the soldiers and the resistance. The sisters struggled to understand each other but still supported each other.
Two kinds of courage. Two ways of surviving. Two women who were both right and both wrong and both stronger than they knew.
And every woman who’s read this book sees herself in one of them. Or wishes she had the courage of the other. Or has been both at different points in her life.
This trip is for women who felt that tension. Who’ve lived their own version of it. Who’ve been Vianne when they wanted to be Isabelle. Or Isabelle when the world needed them to be Vianne.
When I started planning this trip, I knew I wanted to walk both sisters’ worlds. The Loire Valley villages where Vianne survived. The Paris streets where Isabelle rebelled.
But there’s one more region on this itinerary, and it’s deeply personal.
My grandfather fought in Normandy during WWII. He was one of the Allied soldiers who landed on those beaches. One of the men Isabelle would have been trying to save if she’d been real.
I didn’t fully understand what that meant until I read The Nightingale.
Isabelle smuggled soldiers over the Pyrenees. She risked her life again and again to get men like my grandfather to safety. And when I read those scenes, I thought about him for the first time in a new way. Not just as my grandfather. But as someone’s son. Someone who was terrified and far from home. Someone a young French woman might have hidden in a barn or guided through the mountains.
So yes, we’re going to Normandy. Not because it’s in the book. But because the soldiers in the book were real. And some of them were ours.
We’ll visit the beaches. We’ll stand where they stood. And we’ll honor the courage it took to fight, and the courage it took to save them.
Spring 2027. 9 nights. Three regions. A mix of pilgrimage and pleasure.
This is where we’ll walk the quiet courage. The village markets where women bartered for food during the occupation. The family vineyards that survived the war. The stone farmhouses where children were hidden. The landscape where survival itself was an act of resistance.
We’ll taste wine made by families who’ve been growing grapes since before the war. We’ll wander morning markets that look exactly like they did when Vianne walked them. We’ll eat dinner in villages that haven’t changed in 80 years.
This is Vianne’s world. Domestic. Careful. Strategic. Beautiful in its ordinary bravery.
Paris is where Isabelle came alive. Where she joined the resistance. Where she walked the streets delivering messages and risking everything. The bold, reckless courage of urban rebellion.
But here’s the thing: Isabelle also LOVED this city. She loved the beauty and the possibility and the freedom it represented. So we’re going to honor both.
Yes, we’re visiting the Eiffel Tower. Yes, we’re taking a sunset Seine river cruise with champagne. Because this trip isn’t an either/or experience. It’s not “serious literary pilgrimage OR fun Paris vacation.” It’s both.
The resistance and the romance. The courage and the beauty. The Paris Isabelle was willing to die for.
This is where my grandfather and thousands of Allied soldiers fought. Where Isabelle’s smuggled soldiers were trying to reach. The beaches, the memorials, the landscape of sacrifice.
We’ll walk the beaches. We’ll visit the American Cemetery. We’ll stand in the places where men who were someone’s son, someone’s husband, someone’s father gave everything.
This part of the trip will be heavy. It should be. But it will also be healing. Because honoring their courage matters.
This trip is for you if:
I’m not limiting this to women. Anyone who resonates with the story is welcome. But I have a strong feeling this group will be mostly (if not all) women. And that’s exactly the kind of magic I’m hoping for.
Small group. Capped at 20 travelers. Boutique hotels. Real French meals, not tour bus restaurants. Time alone to process and journal and feel. Time together to connect with people who get it.
I grew up in a small town in southeast Missouri. I took my first flight at 21. I saw the ocean for the first time at 25.
I spent 30 years in corporate sales. I learned to play the game, be strategic, keep my head down when I needed to. That was my Vianne era.
Then I launched Winds and Waves Travel. I walked away from corporate stability and bet on myself. That was my Isabelle era.
I’ve lived both sisters’ lives. The careful one and the rebellious one. The strategic one and the reckless one. The one who plays nice and the one who refuses to.
I understand what it means to do hard things quietly AND loudly.
And I know what it’s like to read a book and feel seen. To close the last page and think, “I need to go there. I need to walk where that courage lived.”
That’s why I’m leading this trip. Because I see myself in both sisters. And I think you do too.
Trip details are still being finalized. I’m working with my partners in France to lock in the boutique hotels, the vineyard experiences, the perfect riverside restaurants. The exact itinerary will be ready soon.
But the waitlist is open now. And it’s filling faster than I expected.
I’m capping the waitlist to keep this trip intimate and manageable. When we hit capacity, the waitlist closes until the trip goes live.
Waitlist members get first access to pricing, itinerary details, and booking when everything’s finalized.
There’s no hard sell here. No pressure. Just this: if this trip is pulling at your heart, that’s your answer.
Vianne and Isabelle didn’t wait for permission. Neither should you.
The Nightingale isn’t just a book about France. It’s a book about the courage it takes to survive. To love. To fight. To keep going when everything’s broken.
This trip is for people who felt that in their bones.
I’ll see you in France.
May 13, 2026
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