How to describe the Sunday morning Bastille Market? Side by side, in bright stalls: seafood, sweaters, kitchen gadgets, parakeets, pocketbooks, wallets, raw meat, pastry made to order while you watch, chocolatiers, bread-makers, mattress salesmen (!), and crepe stalls.
The variety boggles the mind. Locals make their way to clear favorites, lining up at one or two of the seafood shops, where they make off with cartfuls of fresh salmon and mussels. We browse, but don’t buy — there’s no way to get most of the goodies back to the States.
Since we’re in the neighborhood, we follow Rick Steves’ Marais Walk, taking our first successful tour of the area, ever. (We’re tried twice before to find our way to sights, using two other guides. None of them were as down-to-earth, frank, and easy-to-follow as Rick’s.) Stores are generally closed, but bakeries are open, and just inside the gay district, we find ourselves parked at a little table with pain au chocolate (a chocolate croissant) and cups of strong coffee. Tasty!
At the end of the walk, we make our way through the Picasso Museum, watching his style evolve throughout the course of what is probably the best-arranged tour of a single artist’s work I’ve ever seen. Our eyes full of bulging thighs, cubic breasts, and angular faces, we make a quick decision to escape the city again … and hop a train out to Fountainebleu, one of the chateaux just outside of town.
The chateau itself is more personable and approachable than Versaille will ever be; we spend more than an hour wandering rooms and snapping photos. The town itself, though, turns out to be our favorite part of the stop. We wander the streets until Clyde spies a seafood restaurant he’s curious about … and he winds up dining on steamed almond trout (head on!), which makes us lonesome for Thailand.
Back in Paris, we watch the sunset over the Champs-Elysees. Lost in the crowds, we wander the opulent stores, buying only a humble voltage adapter for use back at the hotel. (We do get great shots of the local McDonald’s, though, where teens gather to sample the latest tunes while scarfing down dozens of Les Big Macs.)
Exhausted, we’re back home, updating MadeByMark and answering email.
I’m just in awe. We’re really blessed; we do on a whim what others plan their entire lives to do.
Relaxed and happy, we start packing for the trip home.
Add comment