Un Véritable Marché Parisien

The Parisian lady who lives above my bedroom has many pairs of high heeled shoes. She loves to parade them to her boyfriend, up and down the apartment back and forth, until 1 or 2am. She then gets up at 6am, with the same shoes on, to parade a little more before going to work, click-clacking down the stairs. (I have no idea how much of this is true; it's what I imagine when her marching is keeping me awake at 1am for the third night in a row).

We got up reasonably early this morning anyway as I was determined to revisit our old market (le Marché Saxe-Breteuil) from our trip in 2006, which is on the opposite side of town. The 7th is what all my memories of Paris are shaped by, which contrast so heavily with the more urban Marais where we currently reside, making it difficult for me to join the two pictures I have of Paris together. I was hoping that visiting this market would help connect them both.

Wandering at le marché

It was certainly a lot quieter in the 7th, with less tourists and more families. The marché too was less touristy, with an array of fruits, légumes, fromages, viande, poisson, pâtisseries, as well as an eclectic collection of scarves, hats, jackets, gloves, DVDs, cell phone cases (of which I bought one), books, antiques, and articles from around the world. There were some very enthusiastic vendors with great sales pitches, all eager to sell you something, anything, from their stall. I noted how relaxed it was, and how vendors didn't take offence if you chose not to purchase anything. It added to the very friendly atmosphere which was appealing and welcoming. Of course we stumbled upon an Irishman's stall, selling beautifully crafted wooden boards and bowls. He was excited to hear his own language as we passed, and stopped us to chat. We were won over when he said in his lovely Irish lilt that he had no interest in Australia, but very much wanted to come to New Zealand as he'd heard all about it's beautiful landscapes (sorry, Oz).

Lunch and dessert :)

On the way home I decided to buy a couple gorgeous little desserts for us to have after lunch. We stood for ages looking at all the pretty cakes and tarts, and ended up deciding on a tartelette framboise (raspberry tart) and a tartelette citron verte meringuée (lime meringue tart). They were slipped carefully into a little box, and then wrapped delicately in paper like un cadeau (a present). I stared at them for ages before mum was interested in dessert, my mouth watering and tummy crying for a nibble. First we had a yummy pasta dish, with fresh bread of course, and then I could finally devour my share of the tarts. Yum.



We decided to wander around our local area for the afternoon. There's this lovely store, Acquarêves, which has some gorgeous dresses. I was excited to try on a few (I'm looking for one to wear to my 21st dinner), but was again disappointed with the outcome. The search continues. Tomorrow we've decided on a lazy day with a few walks interspersed. I'm still trying to rest my ankle, and with noisy shoe lady above I'm very tired. Luckily, Sunday is the day when all of Paris sleeps in. The streets are eerily empty, the traffic noise strangely stilled. I look forward to it.

Paris, je t'aime.