Tourist trap or Dealer's heaven?

What do you do on a cold, grey Sunday afternoon in Paris? Well, the good news is, it is not raining, the even better news our friends are in town. The "bad" news is the tourists are starting to flock back to Paris (slowly but surely) and therefore the queues to museums, attractions and events drastically increase during the weekend.

Given that we live here, why would we want to force ourselves to stand in line when Monday morning the same venue is deserted. Thursday nights, for example, are great to visit museums since most of them adhere to late night opening and the tourists usually crash after 6pm given their strenuous day running around Paris.

Well, this Sunday we decided to check out the Marché de Puces. Covering seven hectares, 3,000 traders and up to 180,000 visitors each weekend, St-Ouen is generally thought to be the biggest flea market in the world.

What started as a rag-and-bone shantytown outside the city limits in 1885, has been organised into a series of enclosed villages, some entirely covered and others with open-air streets and covered boutiques for the antiques dealers.

Lots of vintage to spot, even more to photograph and a trendy lunch to top it all off. Sounds good to me...

A little patriotism always helps 

Ready to move in...

Interesting presentation

A bit of New Orleans at St.Ouen

Would need a palace to place these

Travel companions are always welcome

Lots of fashion vintage to be spotted

Spot the teddy bear?

I'll take the pink chairs...

 

I could work with these as well

Not many customers on this cold day

Pit stop?

Now, what could you use these for? Any ideas? 

A quirky sense of humour

Childhood memories flooding back

If I had a big kitchen I could really put these boxes to use

Hey, he's smiling!!!

Eerie looking couple

L'éclaireur looks enticing

Philippe Starck's contribution to the Paris' flea market: ma cocotte!

Une agréable rencontre après tout

It is Wednesday night, pouring with rain and I am heading over the Pont d'Iena to pick up Expat girl from her acting classes the other side of the river. There are roadworks on the bridge and cars are streaming from all side, crossing the Place de Varsovie aiming to squeeze into one lane which leads towards the overpowering Eiffel Tower.

A little shove and a push and it seems I've hit a Mini with the side of my car. Not thinking much I carry on at snail's pace following the traffic flow when I notice through my rear mirror the lady behind the steering wheel taking note of my number plate. I move forward crossing the bridge in order not to produce a complete melt-down of the traffic and stop right below the Tour Eiffel.

The tower lights start sparkling which means it is seven o'clock sharp and I am now officially running late. It is the first time I am looking down rather than up.

I am checking the fenders and bumpers of my car which seem to be in tact. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about the Mini which has come to a halt behind me. It looks to me as if this lady has had quite a few run-ins. I prepare myself for a downpour of insults and am ready to shoot back. This is the way things work in Paris... you attack first, no matter what.

Instead a French lady steps up to me and says politely: "I think you hit my car." We walk around the vehicles evaluating the damage and seeing that I am late in picking up my daughter, she suggest we telephone later to meet over the weekend.

Well, to cut a long story short, we met on another rainy afternoon in a little bistro in the 15th arrondissement over a cup of coffee and had a pleasant exchange of information while filling in the accident report. Turns out she has a son who's in his last year of school just like mine and from what I could tell her priorities seem to be very similar to mine.

Nobody got hurt, the damage is done and the insurances will cover it. However, there were two ways to go about such an incident: aggressively or with a civilised conversation.

We said our goodbyes and as she was crossing the road with her bright red umbrella, I thought to myself: "I like this mum, we could have potentially even become friends."

Little does this lady know but she has done a great deal in restoring my faith in the Parisian people's ability to show empathy for others.

Je vous adresse tous mes remerciements, Chère Madame, pour cet agréable rencontre qui aurait pu être très énervante.

Happy Sunday

Death by chocolate!

One of my absolute favourite pastimes in Paris is indulging in a chocolate tour. Little does it matter that I am onto my fifth tour! I mean, there are after all limitless sorts and flavours to be tasted.

Today, I joined Brigitte, our guide from Paris Walks, for yet another one of her sultry chocolate tours. Brigitte is not only an expert on Paris, she is also a knowledgeable connoisseur and seriously passionate about the Aztec gold.

After giving us - 20 ladies from 15 different countries - an uplifting and fascinating history about chocolate and its production, we were ready to step out of the pouring Parisian rain and hit the first chocolate store in the heart of the Left Bank.

Our "degustation tour" started with French chocolatiers Patrick Roger. He is one of the master chocolatiers, however, chocolate is just one medium used by this talented sculptor who likes to show off his bold style and playful displays. His latest work of art is chocolate version of the famous thinker "Le Penseur" to mark the Rodin museum's reopening! For me, his chocolate selections allow for the most stunning photographs.

We continued to "La mère de famille", a charmingly elegant and exquisite experience, walking into a store that transported us back to the 1930s. The owner was clearly proud of what he had to offer. I dare say the orange packaging seemed to hint at being the Hermès of chocolatiers.

Our next stop was Henri Le Roux who supposedly invented famous "Caramel au Beurre Salé " (Salted Butter Caramel) which he even has trademarked as CBS ®. The top-quality cocoa beans and chocolate couvertures allow his subtle garnished creations to melt away on your palette, as if your tongue were standing still in time just devouring that caramel.

Our last stop was "Un dimanche à Paris", a sleek Paris chocolate shop tucked away in the cobblestoned "Cour du Commerce" where we enjoyed one of the best hot chocolates in town made with real melted chocolate, milk, a little cream, a touch of cinnamon and vanilla. At this point, we went all out, ordered chocolate eclairs and headed straight for the kill. Death by chocolate!

Patrick Roger's impressive, bold chocolate designs

Easter marzipan figures for the kids

Our lovely guide Brigitte from Paris Walks

Looking very comfy yet chic

Little boxes of chocolate eggs

Definitely worth buying: Bâton de gingembre

Which flavour to choose?

Pink and retro ... and made of chocolate! That egg has my name written all over it.

An assortment of Henri Le Roux's devine caramels 

Even the wall panelling resembles a chocolate bar

A great place for bunch... if you can conquer a table!

Sleek and stylish chocolate... must be Parisian!

Great solution to keep you warm on a cold and rainy day.

Death by chocolate!

The most romantic museum in town

It was time I went back to visit the Musée Rodin. The museum reopened last November after a three year restoration. It is after all one of the most romantic locations the city of love has to offer and amongst France's ten most visited museums.

It is housed in the magnificent Hôtel Biron, a building from 18th century which is a true gem of classical architecture embellished with woodworks and rocaille decoration.

Auguste Rodin (1840-1917) used to work and live here. In 1911 he gave the State all his works and his collections of antiquities provided that he could live in the Hôtel Biron until his death and that the State would keep all these collections thereafter converting the Hôtel Biron into the Musée Rodin.

Thanks to the restoration the wooden floors, the wall panelings and the mirrors look up to scratch not that the original state had disturbed my past experience when admiring the artwork. Some of the works are now exhibited on new display furniture which for my taste seem too modern and cold, but hey, who am I to judge!?!

The journey is mainly chronological with the addition of some thematic rooms. Among them is a new room dedicated to the sculptures of Camille Claudel, Rodin's life-long muse. Visiting the museum at night gave the entire venue an even more romantic touch. The lights reflected off the mirrors and sculptures were reproduced in the window panels.

Before leaving the Musée Rodin I took a quick walk around the courtyard admiring the lit-up facade and the magnificent view of the sparkling Eiffel Tower trying to compete with the impressive golden dome of Les Invalides next to it. It was too cold and too dark to explore the three-hectare park but I will be back in spring with my hubby to indulge in the special romantic atmosphere and to admire the masterpieces as well as the flower gardens throughout the grounds.

Elegant entrance hall at the Hôtel Biron

Not sure I like those grey walls contrasting to the wooden pedestals?!?

Just imagine the backdrop with all the roses bushes blooming in the spring

Just like a scene from the movies, don't you think?

Ahhhh, the kiss...

... and another kiss.

Detailed studies...

Delicacy, elegance and talent melted into one gesture

It seems we are just waiting for the artist to turn up to finish his work

Again, the grey painted walls do not favour the ambiance!

Monsieur himself

An interesting angle

Forse, masculitiy and movability cast in bronze

The view stepping out into the courtyard

"Le Penseur" thinking hard in the cold, dark night

An African experience at school

Coming down with a bad cold I was about skip the invitation by the kids' school to attend a concert given by a Ghanian high school choir who was visiting Paris. However, leading by example I told my daughter that we would go together.... I had an inkling this might be worth the extra effort.

The minute the Winneba choir started clapping their hands you could tell the groove would go down at the school gym tonight. This Youth Choir was founded in May 1989 and has progressed steadily to the extent that it is now recognized as the most outstanding youth choir of Ghana.

Thirty youngsters dressed in their school colours' polo shirts of green, purple and blue had arrived from Accra that morning invited by the Ghanian Embassy in Paris for the occasion of the celebration of the 59th anniversary of the independence of Ghana.

They were now at our school performing a mix of traditional French tunes, local folk songs and national hymns pursuing their vision of projecting a positive image of the African youth and African choral music.

The girls had the most intricate braided hair and they all boosted a huge grin. Their singing was fun, uplifting and full of rhythm and life. I watched some of them shuffle their feet to the songs unable to stop keeping their bodies from moving to the music but then neither could Expat girl and her mummy.

I might be biased but tonight gave me another example of how cool the children's school is.

Winneba choir sang the Ghanian National hymn as beautifully as the French National hymn and had us all on our feet by the end applauding these inspiring and talented high school kids.

It is yet another unforgettable experience we have shared thanks to the initiative and organization of some awesome kids of the International community of Paris.

Is it really snowing?

It's all a matter of opinion or cultural background, I guess.

Today when I rushed around the last corner and into the cul de sac to pick up Expat girl from school, I was surprised to find the street deserted. WOW, I was actually early... that rarely happens. ;)

Within seconds after the school bell rang, children were pouring out of the main doors left and right onto the little cobblestone road. I was submerged by excited screams and shouts, giggles and moans from all the students surrounding me.

"It is snowing" was the exclamation heard from many, others complained "I don't like snow". One boy barged out of the door shouting "Let me feel the snow, it reminds me of my Russia". A French girl shrieked with delight "Look it's snowing" while her Canadian friend retorted "This isn't snow!"

None of the children took any notice of me standing amidst them and it was refreshing to watch their reactions to the 10 minute snow fall we experienced in Paris this afternoon. It reminded me of what I love about my kids' school: it is a truly International place frequented by students from across the globe with different opinions and perspectives. Over the years, I have had many "Aha" moments and learnt a great deal talking and listening to these kids. They are individuals moving between cultures before they have the opportunity to fully develop their personal and cultural identity and it is a pleasure to watch them.

Unobserved, I walked passed them all with a big smile on my face murmuring to myself. "My dear, this is as much snow as you'll get to see in Paris. So, yes, it is snowing! But of course, that's debatable, it all depends on your cultural background."