I titled this blog post: How to Survive April 1st in France. It could have been: A short guide to avoiding humiliation by paper fish
I love my country. Honestly, I do.
The food, the light, the art, the way everyone argues about cheese as if it were geopolitics.
But once a year — just once — I find myself hesitating before leaving the house.
Peeking suspiciously through the curtains.
Glancing over my shoulder in the queue at the boulangerie.
Because in France, April 1st isn’t just April 1st.
It’s Poisson d’Avril. And it’s a battlefield.
Now, if you’re American — or from anywhere fish-free — you might be imagining some quaint little tradition involving seafood platters or spring festivals.
Think again. Here in France, April Fool’s Day comes with scissors, sticky tape, and brightly coloured fish stuck to your back when you’re not looking.
It’s ridiculous. It’s adorable. It’s dangerous.
And you, my friend, are not ready.
But don’t worry — I am. I’ve trained for this. And I’m here to help.
Let’s talk about the children
You might think the real danger on April 1st is tripping over a loose cobblestone or mistaking salt for sugar in your coffee.
No. The real threat is 1.30 metres tall and giggling behind a corner.
Children in France spend the final days of March preparing for this sacred ritual.
At school, at home, wherever there’s paper and access to glue.
They craft fish. Dozens of them.
Colourful, spiky, googly-eyed monstrosities that look like Picasso’s fever dream.
Then they wait.
And when April 1st dawns, they strike. In groups. In pairs.
Occasionally, solo assassins with tape dispensers are concealed in their sleeves.
They approach you casually, smiling sweetly.
You think, “What a charming child.”
They think, “Soon, you’ll be wearing a neon clownfish.”
And so you do.
I’ve been ambushed by an entire class outside a post office.
I’ve seen elderly ladies walking through town like walking fish tanks.
I once found three fish on my back at once — one of them with sequins.
And they’re never discreet.
The fish are always massive.
Always brightly coloured.
Often labelled in giant marker pen: POISSON D’AVRIL! — just in case you missed the joke.
Trust no one under the age of twelve
Here’s how you spot them:
They’re standing suspiciously still, as if waiting for the right moment.
They’re pretending to read a sign or pet a dog — with both hands behind their back.
They’re in pairs, whispering. Always whispering.
Your instinct may be to smile. Maybe even say bonjour.
Don’t.
I suggest crossing the street.
Or feigning a phone call.
Or, if you’re feeling bold, staring at them and slowly shaking your head as if to say “Not today, little trout.”
Regular back-checks are essential
It may feel silly at first, but trust me — develop the habit.
Every few minutes, perform a discreet sweep of your shoulder blades.
Shrug. Scratch. Pretend your scarf itches.
Anything to feel what might be flapping behind you.
If you do feel something suspicious, do not panic.
Take a deep breath.
Step aside.
Remove the fish with grace.
And most importantly, look around before discarding it — the artist is probably still watching.
And you will hear the laughter.
Also: beware of walls. Leaning against them gives small people the perfect opportunity to tape something on your back unnoticed.
I once spent an entire afternoon with a fish taped over a “Bonjour, je m’appelle Imbécile” sticker. My name isn’t Imbécile (idiot).
The Decoy Fish Technique™ (advanced tactic)
Here’s a method I now swear by.
Before leaving the house, stick a very obvious fish to your back yourself.
Make it look intentional.
Sparkly is best.
Add words like “I know your tricks” or “Try harder next time”.
This confuses the pranksters.
They hesitate.
They respect your preparedness.
Once, I walked around with a large salmon that read “Official April Fish — Do Not Disturb”.
It worked. Children paused, frowned, and moved on. One even applauded.
You could also attach several small fish and call it a shoal.
Or go all in and carry a fishing rod.
Do what you must.
Don’t trust the elderly either
This may come as a shock, but I’ve seen it with my own eyes: grandparents colluding with grandchildren.
In parks, in cafés, and even in churches.
They hold the handbag.
They distract the victim.
They’re the getaway car of the Poisson d’Avril heist.
I once caught an old lady handing tape to a six-year-old like it was contraband.
So if someone’s granny smiles at you too kindly, check your back.
Then check again.
Language as a defence mechanism
Should you feel cornered, resort to linguistic confusion.
Say “I’m not French” in as many languages as you can.
Wave your hands.
Speak in bad Italian.
Recite Shakespeare.
Children might pause long enough for you to escape.
Better yet, whisper cryptic phrases like:
“The haddock has fallen.”
“Operation mackerel is underway.”
“Tell the cod we’re in position.”
They’ll probably stare at you blankly and decide you’re not worth the risk.
Desperate times, desperate outfits
Now I’m not recommending this unless you’re truly desperate — but in extreme cases, consider wearing:
A long, transparent raincoat (nothing sticks to plastic)
A giant sandwich board saying “Do Not Feed the Fish”
A full wetsuit. With goggles. For thematic consistency.
You might get strange looks.
But you’ll also leave the battlefield with your back un-fishified.
Which, in my book, is a win.
Distract with your own prank
Want to flip the script?
Tell everyone you heard the French government is releasing perfume-scented banknotes.
Or that baguettes will now be taxed based on length.
Say the Louvre is being turned into a luxury shopping mall.
Say you read it in Le Figaro.
With enough confidence, you might just start a rumour of your own.
And if all else fails… accept your destiny
Sometimes, despite all precautions, you’ll feel it.
That soft tap-tap on your back.
That gentle pressure of paper meeting coat.
It’s too late. The fish is in place. The prank is complete.
At that point, just smile.
Turn around.
Nod respectfully at your attacker.
Maybe even compliment their craftsmanship.
And walk on. Proud. Dignified.
Like a human sardine who knows how to take a joke.
Final Thoughts: We’re all fish in the end
So yes, it’s absurd. Entirely pointless.
But if you ask me — and even if you don’t, I’m telling you anyway — Poisson d’Avril is one of those joyful little things that makes France so wonderfully strange.
It’s the one day of the year when silliness becomes a national sport.
When children rule the streets with scotch tape.
When adults pretend not to notice the tuna flapping behind them.
When the world feels just a little lighter, even if your coat is heavier.
So if you’re in France this April 1st, don’t fight it too hard.
Just keep your wits about you, stay clear of groups of children, and always — always — check your back.
Bonne chance, and happy Poisson d’Avril!
Read more about Poisson d’Avril on the blog… you’ll learn all about its origins and traditions!
