Le Havre

Standing atop Étretat's chalk cliffs, you're immediately struck with the kind of vertiginous awe that fueled impressionist painters and heart attacks alike. These colossal white walls tracing Normandy's coastline have inspired countless works, from Monet's misty, poetic brushstrokes to Instagrammers shamelessly dangling selfie sticks over oblivion. Aim to arrive ridiculously early to beat the selfie hordes-sunrise bathes the cliffs in an ethereal glow worthy of Monet himself, and your photos benefit hugely from the absence of backpack-clad tourists elbowing into frame. Pro tip: pack sturdy shoes, a decent windbreaker (no matter how cool your vintage leather jacket looks online, coastal winds here laugh at fashion), and about thirty euros for parking, cafe-au-lait, and an obligatory post-adrenaline croissant. Book accommodation several weeks ahead in summer-this slice of Normandy gets congested faster than a Parisian boulangerie at breakfast. And though falling off these cliffs is easier done than said, exploring Étretat earns you bragging rights and a few cautionary tales you'll embellish shamelessly at dinner parties for years to come.

Mont-Saint-Michel: a surreal, centuries-old wonder so stubbornly eccentric that you suspect it defies tides out of sheer spite. By day, it teems with a busload of camera-wielding tourists, but by evening-ah, that's when the island takes a deep breath, sheds the selfie-stick brigade, and reveals its true medieval soul. Officially, you're here to marvel at the gravity-defying abbey that monks casually plonked atop a rocky islet in honor of St. Michael some thousand years ago, but unofficially, you're here to roam the narrow, twisty streets after dark, swapping ghost stories and medieval gossip with locals whose ancestors probably sold mead to pilgrims. Practical tips? Book accommodations months ahead (there aren't exactly endless hotel chains out here), arrive in late afternoon when day-trippers are escaping the encroaching tides, and budget generously-everything from omelettes to souvenirs comes with a healthy monastic markup. Bring sturdy shoes for cobblestones, layers for unpredictable coastal winds, and perhaps a flask filled with Calvados to properly toast your triumph over rising seas and medieval staircases. Even if the abbey doesn't quite convert you, even if the islanders roll their eyes at yet another traveler waxing poetic under moonlit ramparts-it's worth the trip, if only to say you spent a night stranded by choice in one of Europe's most evocative medieval curiosities.

If you've ever wondered what's hidden behind the postcard-perfect facade of Normandy's half-timbered villages, the Route du Cidre in Pays d'Auge is your acidic, slightly bubbly answer. Sure, wine is the French crown jewel, but cider? This is Normandy's delicious rebellion, a fermented revolution dating back to medieval monks who clearly knew how to party. Start in the late morning when the orchards are bathed in that dreamy Norman mist, and give yourself the whole day-so you can savor leisurely (and slightly fuzzy) tastings at family-run cideries scattered along winding country roads. Budget about €30-€40 for tastings and bottles to stash away, and pack along some local cheese-because if you don't pair creamy Camembert with sparkling cider, are you even in Normandy? It's quirky, it's rustic, it's delightfully unpretentious. And even if you tire of cider bonanza number seven by village number four, you'll come away richer for the journey-after all, bragging rights come cheaper than Bordeaux, and a good cider hangover makes for a far better story.