Situated between Marseille and Toulon, Sanary-sur-Mer is a port town along the Mediterranean Sea with a population under 20,000.

Many locals I've spoken to where I live half an hour away have agreed that Sanary is considered the nicest place in the area.

Though it's popular with the French, it's seemingly not on many international tourists' radars. It can get a bit overshadowed by popular nearby spots like Cannes and Saint-Tropez.

When my husband and I have visited Sanary-sur-Mer, I didn't hear any language other than French spoken around me, which is rare to find in the south of France during the summer (and a far cry from a September Sunday in Antibes, where I could barely move among British, Irish, and American tourists).

The town is based around a wide, clean-looking harbor full of bobbing yachts and other boats.

There may not be as many superyachts as you'd find further up the coast, but there are still plenty of huge ones to admire and imagine floating around in.

Some of the smaller boats are even available for visitors to rent.

On one trip, we walked along the port and up to a charming lighthouse and were surprised by how quiet it was despite being a summer Saturday afternoon.

There were only a few other people and some children splashing in the nearby fountains. It was refreshing compared to the more touristy spots that are always heaving with crowds.

Lined with cafés and restaurants, the waterfront is so clean I thought I was on a film set when we first visited.

My husband and I especially enjoy getting ice cream in one of the cafés on the wide esplanade — a wonderful place to sit and watch the world go by.

I'm also pleased to say that we've found many public toilets in the area that are actually free to use and in decent condition.

Narrow cobbled streets full of chic boutiques snake up from the harbor, dotted with tropical palm trees and pastel-colored buildings with blue and green shutters that offer traditional Provençal charm.

Sanary-sur-Mer is also packed full of little stores selling chic clothes and interesting homewares — I've treated myself to a plant pot in Maman & fiston and some linen trousers in Serendipity.

There aren't big designer shops like you'd find in Cannes or Nice, but Sanary feels all the more authentic for it. The town is less fussy and certainly not pretentious at all.

I've already made a mental note to come back here before Christmastime.

The "regular" buildings in Sanary-sur-Mer, like most of Provence, are beautiful, but one building that stood out to me was the cinema, Cinéma A.b.c.

Dating back decades, the building's retro facade features striking and beautiful pastel colors. Although it has been updated to better function as a theater, its exterior has changed very little.

The town also has walking tours for visitors who want to learn more about the local history. For example, this coastal town was a refuge for German and Austrian authors and artists who fled Nazi Germany in the 1930s.

You don't have to go far out of Sanary to find large beaches, such as Plage de Portissol, a big white-sand one that curves around the coast.

I especially enjoy the areas with staircases right by the harbor. I don't love getting sandy, so being able to go straight down some stairs from the rocks and into the clear blue water is my idea of heaven.

All in all, I already can't wait for my next trip to Sanary-sur-Mer to experience more of it. I'd definitely recommend visiting if you want to authentically experience the south coast of France.

"House of Cards," based on a British TV show of the same name, rightfully earned its critical and fan acclaim for the first two or three seasons.

However, between seasons five and six, Kevin Spacey, who played the diabolical Frank Underwood, was written out of "House of Cards" following multiple allegations of sexual misconduct from various people, including staffers on the set of the show.

In 2022, he was ordered to pay the show's production company $31 million for his alleged behavior — the company argued his exit had cost them a large sum in lost profits. This was reduced to $1 million in 2024.

In a UK trial in 2023, Spacey was found not guilty of 12 sexual assault charges against him in relation to accusations brought by four other men.

But even before the accusations and before Underwood was rightfully killed off, the show was wearing thin. There is only so much backstabbing, murder, and political machinations one can take.

Though Claire (and Robin Wright) deserved to have her moment in the Oval Office, the season five finale in 2017 was more than enough to show she was officially taking the power back into her own hands.

"OITNB" began as one of Netflix's first forays into prestige TV back in 2013, and it had a buzzy premise: It was based on a real memoir of Piper Kerman, who spent a year in a women's prison.

"OITNB" was the first scripted show to really delve into the prison industrial complex inside a female prison, and made strides towards more trans representation on TV and more same-sex relationships on TV. It also helped educate viewers about what life was like inside a prison.

However, when Black people are disproportionately killed by the police in real life, it seemed almost cruel to viewers to show the murder of Poussey, a Black woman, by a white prison guard during a riot in season four. It also unfortunately played into the "Bury Your Gays" trope, since Poussey identified as a lesbian.

The first few seasons of "OITNB" should be required viewing, but seven seasons and 91 episodes were just too much.

And, while some got a "happy" ending, many other characters along the way suffered more injustices and tragedy, like Tiffany, Maritza, and Red.

We'll admit, seeing the entire extended Tanner clan (give or take an Olsen twin) was really fun — for a season in 2016.

The awkwardness of Aunt Becky's mysterious disappearance aside, it's hard to justify keeping "Fuller House" on the air for five seasons when groundbreaking new content like "One Day at a Time," "I Am Not Okay with This," and "The Get Down" only got a season or two.

You might also call this "Big Little Lies" syndrome — that is, when what should have been a limited series based on a novel needlessly drags on the story.

The Jay Asher novel was the complete story of high school student Clay dealing with the trauma of his high school crush, Hannah Baker, dying by suicide.

However, the show, in addition to being graphic and problematic in its depiction of suicide and other sensitive subjects, dragged on the story for another three seasons, putting characters through an unbelievable amount of pain and suffering. Hannah didn't stick around past season two, even though the show was ostensibly about her and Clay.

There was nothing actually wrong with "The Ranch" — at least not after Danny Masterson was written off — but it was just … boring.

The sitcom about a family living on a cattle ranch in Colorado seemed like it would have been more at home on CBS than Netflix, a platform that prides itself on pushing the limits of television.

As already stated, it's hard to explain why this show gets four seasons and 80 episodes, when other, more original shows get half that.

The first season of this true crime series (though at the time, we didn't know there'd be a season two) was a phenomenon when it was released in 2015.

It was shot over 10 years, and focused on the case against Steven Avery, who first served 18 years in prison due to a wrongful conviction, but was then tried and convicted of a different crime (this time a murder) a few years after he was released. He's currently serving a life sentence.

If the first season took 10 years to make, and there had been no significant updates on Avery's case, how could a second season three years later be worth 10-plus hours investing in?

Spoiler: It wasn't, as explained by Vanity Fair.

"Gilmore Girls" lasted for seven seasons on network TV, though only six were under the stewardship of co-creators Amy Sherman-Palladino and Daniel Palladino. The last season is generally panned by fans, and the Palladinos maintain they've never seen it.

After the show's end in 2007, Sherman-Palladino said she's always known how the series would end, down to the last four words.

So, when Netflix announced they'd be reviving the show in 2016, fans were elated.

But when the four episodes dropped, fans were left disappointed and bewildered due to Rory's apparent turn into an entitled brat who constantly forgot about her boyfriend and believed she deserved every journalism job out there.

They also weren't happy about the lack of development and communication between Luke and Lorelai almost a decade into their relationship — and don't even get us started on those infamous last four words.

Now, there are plenty of fans who wish "Gilmore Girls" had stayed in 2007.

When the trailer for "Insatiable" dropped in 2018, it became abundantly clear that Netflix had miscalculated.

While the show thought it had achieved a black comedy "Heather"-esque tone, it was more mean than biting, more cringe-worthy than funny, and generally fat-phobic. It was surprising when it got renewed, but even just two seasons was more than enough from this crew.

Was "Sex/Life" a good show? No, but when it premiered in 2021, it got people talking about what it's like to balance motherhood with your own personal dreams and a healthy sex life.

It's unfortunate, then, that it was promoted as what Business Insider's Tamar Barbash called "a show about a horny, unsatisfied wife."

It wasn't surprising that it got renewed for a second season, but when season two dropped almost two years later to almost zero fanfare, it became clear that this could've been an interesting limited series that had an open-ended finale. 

Its April 2023 cancellation was almost a given.

"Emily in Paris" dropped on Netflix in October 2020. We were all still stuck inside due to the pandemic, and it was fun to have something to all hate-watch together.

But here we are in 2025, and the cast is gearing up for the release of season five of this preposterous show about Emily (Lily Collins), a marketing savant, apparently, moving to Paris and systematically destroying the lives of those around her.

Now, Paris isn't enough for her, because she moved to Rome at the end of season four. Please, hasn't Italy been through enough?

We can only hope that season five will see Emily end her reign of terror and return to Chicago.

This is more of a calendar problem than a content problem. When this show started, the kids were real pre-teens. But just four seasons — and a whopping nine years — later, these kids are adults. As in, "Millie Bobby Brown is a wife and mother" adults.

What we mean is: Why did it take nine years to tell a five-season story?

General admission to the museum costs $25.95. Veterans and active military service members can submit an online entry form for free admission.

Tickets for the U-505 tour cost an additional $18 for adults and $14 for children, with a $4 discount for active military and veterans.

Thankfully, I booked my tickets online — other visitors who hadn't secured tickets in advance were unable to see the exhibit because it was fully booked.

I started my visit to the exhibit by watching footage and reading newspaper clippings to learn some of the historical context. Immersive video experiences then detailed the events leading to the capture of U-505.

Then, it was time to enter the submarine.

The U-boat — short for unterseeboot or "undersea boat" — is divided into three sections: the stern (rear), the amidships (middle), and the bow (front).

Inside, the floors were crafted from steel, while the top deck was made of pinewood treated with carbolineum, or wood tar, to preserve it and provide black camouflage. This made the sub harder to spot from the air at shallow depths.

The conning tower, per the Museum of Science and Industry, is a "small yet heavily armored horizontal hull" that sits atop the submarine above its control room.

It is equipped with three guns, which, when it surfaced, helped protect it from attacks by Allied aircraft.

The 2-centimeter guns were smaller, rapid-fire weapons designed for close-range defense, capable of shooting 240 rounds per minute.

The 3.7-centimeter automatic cannon fired fewer rounds — 50 per minute — but was more destructive per shot, making it more effective against tougher targets, such as low-flying aircraft or smaller ships.

On the day of its capture, the U-505 found itself surrounded by US forces, encircled at sea and shadowed from above.

Three US destroyer escorts launched a series of shots while fighter planes released rounds from their .50-caliber machine guns.

Under Captain Daniel Gallery's command, only antipersonnel ammunition — designed to incapacitate the crew without causing severe structural damage — was deployed.

This decision ensured the submarine's hull remained largely intact for potential capture.

Many U-boat crews embraced unofficial emblems to honor their captains and foster a sense of unity. Although not officially sanctioned, these symbols were typically painted on the conning tower and became a point of pride for the crew.

The U-505 displayed three emblems during its 400-plus days of operation, one for each of its captains.

The first emblem, a Rampant Lion wielding an axe, paid tribute to Axel Olaf Löwe, whose surname means "lion." The second, a Greek Axe, honored Captain Peter Zschech. The final emblem, still visible today, is the Scallop Shell, chosen to represent its last captain, Harald Lange.

It was slightly dark inside, and the lights were dim. The tiny room was packed with four compact bunk beds for mid-ranking men, our tour guide said.

She stood a few feet from us on what seemed like an elevated floor, but was actually the original height between the submarine's floor and ceiling.

She explained that after the submarine arrived at the museum, some adjustments were made for visitor comfort. The floor had been lowered to create more space, and some bunks had been removed to allow visitors to move around more freely than the sailors could.

Still, she said, "It could be worse. You could be one of the enlisted or lowest-ranked men who slept in the forward torpedo room next to active torpedoes."

For the men who lived in the forward torpedo room, the torpedo would double as a dining table, Wolfgang Schiller, a U-505 crewmember, told the Museum of Science and Industry in an interview in 1999.

"We sat with our bottom on the bunk and ate on this wooden plank that sat on the torpedo," he said.

During my tour, I could only see the forward torpedo room through a gated hatch, but it was enough to get a glimpse of how compact life was for sailors aboard.

The U-505 carried 22 torpedoes on board.

One of its torpedo rooms, carrying four 21-inch torpedoes, was at the front of the ship, and the other, with two, was at the back.

Per museum records, these torpedoes could detect the sound of enemy ships and direct themselves toward their target.

Once the captain gave the command to fire, depending on the position of the enemy ships, one of the six Acoustic T5 torpedoes was fired offensively or defensively.

Originally, sailors moved from one part of the submarine to another by passing through hatches. However, to make it easier for visitors, museum staff removed some of the hatches.

While walking through the hallway, I almost missed the galley because of its tiny size.

Much like a kitchen in a New York City walk-up apartment, the galley in U-505 could only accommodate one person at a time. Cooks had access to two large hot plates and one small one. There was an additional tabletop hotplate for large pots.

There was also an oven the size of a tiny air fryer below the hot plates.

While patrolling, the U-505 could be on the sea for over 100 days.

This meant that food for the ship's 59 crew members had to be carried in advance and distributed across the boat to maintain balance.

Three daily meals were served on U-505, and after each meal, the cooks had to count every pound of food and kitchen supplies consumed and keep a record of where each item was placed.

Per museum records, crewmembers would consume all the fresh food first and then move to canned items once that was over.

Items included fresh and cooked meats such as sausages, preserved fish, and potatoes. The food list also included 917 pounds of fresh lemons, which would likely help fight scurvy, a disease caused by a vitamin C deficiency.

Bread — both canned and fresh — was a part of the crew's diet, with museum records indicating that 2,058 pounds of preserved breads were carried on board.

Museum staff discovered one such loaf of canned bread in 1995. It is now displayed in a glass casing outside the submarine at the museum.

Temperatures could soar above 100 degrees Fahrenheit during warmer months, making life inside the submarine unbearably hot.

With no air conditioning and limited ventilation, many crew members adapted by wearing only their shoes and underwear to stay cool.

With just two bathrooms on the entire submarine — one of which was used for food storage — traditional bathing was impossible. Instead, the crew went without showers while on patrol and relied on alcohol wipes to clean themselves.

Entertainment on board was limited, but light classical music and, sometimes, popular hits of the day reverberated throughout the sub, according to the museum.

American forces found 87 records on board upon capture, our tour guide told us.

Another way the crew kept themselves occupied was by playing a card game called Skat, the national card game of Germany.

The radio room served as the submarine's nerve center for communication.

This compact space was packed with dials, switches, and wires. There were also several notebooks on display — these were maintained by the crew, who kept detailed records of the boat's activities.

This is also where the German crew received and deciphered daily messages sent from the main command center.

The midship compartment, or control room, was packed with crucial controls that kept the submarine running, such as the diving controls for adjusting depth, the gyrocompass for navigation, and the air search radar for detecting threats above.

Firing a torpedo at the right target at the right moment was a methodical process based on complex mathematical calculations.

In the 1940s, the four torpedo tubes in the bow were already floated and ready to fire, our guide said, adding that the crew just had to wait for the captain's command.

Once a torpedo was fired, the crew used a stopwatch to calculate how long it took to hit its target.

"They are so good at math that they know the exact second the weapon would hit its target," said our tour guide, Elizabeth.

Our tour guide explained that while the U-505 was on the hunt for supply ships in 1944, US Task Group 22.3, commanded by Captain Daniel V. Gallery, was looking for the U-505.

The Task Group included the aircraft carrier USS Guadalcanal and a fleet of destroyer escorts: Pillsbury, Pope, Flaherty, Chatelain, and Jenks.

Captain Gallery and his men tracked the submarine's signals across the Atlantic for a few months until they finally pinpointed the sub's location.

The crew members were instructed to prepare for a crash dive — the ship had to get underwater and out of sight as quickly as possible, which meant every person on board, even those off-duty, now had an important job.

They would have to sprint to the forward torpedo room, dogpile on one another to throw off the weight on the front of the boat, and get it to submerge in just 37 seconds. For context, a regular dive would take about three minutes.

Once underwater, the crew needed to conserve sound and oxygen.

The sound of something as simple as a dropped tool could travel for miles and give away the cruise's location.

Depth charges were explosives designed to explode underwater at a predetermined depth.

Once Captain Lange realized that the boat was sinking, he had a tough choice to make: whether to follow orders that told him to let this boat sink, killing everyone on the board. Or to order a resurface and risk the intelligence of the U-505.

Captain Lange decided to save his crew.

The gunfire on deck went on for six and a half minutes.

One bullet struck Captain Lange's leg — with the captain down, the crew began to scramble.

"They tried to sink or scuttle it on their way out," said our tour guide, Elizabeth, which meant that the crew members could either scatter an explosive booby trap called scuttle throughout the sub or open the sea strainer valve, which would flood the sub.

They decided to open the sea strainer.

Eventually, the Germans were evacuated from the boat, and the American crew, led by Lieutenant (junior grade) Albert L. David and nine other men boarded the sub.

At first, men from the boarding party started collecting as many intelligence materials as possible. They searched for classified documents, code books, how-to manuals for the U-505 machinery, and anything they could take with them in case the boat sank.

This is when one of the men found what proved to be more important than classified material at the time: the sea lid for the sea strainer.

Once the valve had been closed, the Americans felt in control of the boat and were able to tow it to Bermuda.

Fifty-eight of the 59 German crewmembers on board survived — one was killed by gunfire — and were taken as prisoners of war to Camp Ruston in Louisiana, where they remained until the end of the war.

The U-505 was painted black to conceal its true identity and kept in Bermuda for the remainder of the war.

Eventually, the submarine was taken on a publicity tour of the East Coast to fundraise for the ongoing war against Japan. But, once Japan surrendered, the Navy did not have much use for the sub, and they decided to use it for target practice, which would've eventually destroyed the submarine.

But once again, Daniel Gallery, now an admiral, came to save the ship.

Since he was from Chicago, he petitioned the authorities to take possession of the boat and display it at the museum.

The US Navy approved these plans and in 1954, the sub sailed across the Great Lakes and parked on a dry dock at the 57^th Street beach in the summer of 1954.

Lake Shore Drive, a major roadway along Lake Michigan, was shut down at night so the sub could be safely transported to its final destination: the museum.

Once there, it was declared a war memorial and made a permanent part of the museum's collection.

The submarine remained outside the museum for 50 years before staff realized the Chicago weather was causing it to rust and decay.

So, after years of planning, the sub was moved indoors — to a 35,000-square-foot air-conditioned room.

At the end of my tour, a child asked our tour guide, "Why was the U-boat never used again?"

The guide shrugged and replied, "Likely because of all the damages and how compact it was, it didn't work for the Americans."

And yet, decades later, here it stands.

Still imposing, still intact, still capturing the imagination of everyone who walks through its steel-clad past.