fleas and bones.

We took the metro out to Porte de Clignancourt for the world's biggest flea market, as they call it. Over 2,000 stalls, from the most chi-chi with crystal chandeliers and fine art to the most unrecognizable truc (thing) sitting in a box. Our goal was to find that happy medium for my bohomeme space back home at Found on Fremont.

Even the world's largest flea market wasn't enough to loosen these purse strings. Although Andy did tell me, "You're not cheap, you're just very particular." I was flattered.

So we searched high and low for what I was particulating for (yes, that's a new word I coined, it's a verb) and I even participated in bartering, which is something I hate to do, especially in another language.

I'm a little impressed with myself, mostly with the way I've mastered the "dumb nod." You know, the plastered clueless smile while my head bobs up and down and my mind frantically tries to piece together what this old man wants for this old piece of paper? There's an art to it.

My particulating worked out nicerly, see!

The next day, we woke up early and got in line to go down below the streets of Paris and see the Catacombs, where 6 million bones of Parisians, including Marie Antoinette, are stacked in rows upon rows. And don't be mad, but there was a McDonald's (McDo) across the street and we bought coffee to warm our hands while waiting.

After rising out of the bowels of the city 45 minutes later, we walked to Place de St. Sulpice and had lunch in front of the fountain from a little picnic we had packed that morning. The weather, as it has been all week, was perfect.

Andy was hiding down there.

food in Paris.

We've had a busy past few days taking in the sights of Paris, including the giant "flea market" (not so many fleas) yesterday and the catacombs this morning. Tomorrow, the Louvre.

You may have seen on the news the strikes throughout France, and yep, we were right in the thick of it. Everywhere we went today, there were people with signs, megaphones and stickers.

What's a visit to France without la grève or a Red Party parade?

First, on Saturday morning we went shopping for groceries at the marché d'Aligre. A loud and overwhelming affair, to say the least. But here's what we came home with: butter, free-range eggs (en plein air), lettuce, green beans, strawberries, grapes, cucumbers, avocados and tomatoes. Our meat we buy daily or every other day. Baguettes are fresh every day from Le Grenier à Pain and tonight's was hot out of the oven and kept my hands warm the whole way home winding through the neighborhood...and burnt my mouth a little as I kept tearing off pieces to eat.

Then sometimes we enjoy a café, but mostly we make it at home with our F&M good stuff. And we are alway excited about crepes.

But, and I say this contently, besides the very blatantly obvious, so far I feel pretty fortunate in that daily "Parisian living" isn't a very far representation from the way we live our life in Portland. It's not as glamorous, and definitely more casual, but we haven't afforded ourselves the opportunity to be glamorous here in Paris, either.

And that has allowed me great freedom to just enjoy and not feel like I have to go chasing after an "experience" that I think I need to have here. I'm very happy about that.

But, I do admit, oh the butter!

Caught red handed! (No, not that red!)

nesting in Paris.

I wrote a few months ago about the apartment we are renting during our stay in Paris. The day finally came, and we arrived on Friday morning after a 5:25 a.m. train departure from London on the Eurostar and were ready to do some serious relaxing.

One of the challenges of traveling is feeling like you have to make the most of your time, at all times. But we had just come off of from 4 cities in a little over a week and for the sake of our sanity and relationship, we needed the apartment to be on par with what we expected.

To our great happiness it far exceeds our expectations, and I am learning even just in the day we've been here how perfect it is. Located in the 11th arrondissement, it's a few blocks from 2 metro stops and the RER (rapid transit train) that got us to the Arc de Triomphe and Champs- Elysees in about 15 minutes.

View from our window...

On the other side of the house on the left is a schoolyard...french kids scream loud like their American counterparts...

lovely little studio...

with the most perfect kitchen...

It's in a more residential neighborhood, and to my joy it is a 10 minute walk from a market (marche d'aligre), creperie (creperie bretonne), and bakery (le grenier a pain) that I've read about on David Lebowitz's most entertaining blog. And I've been to all three in a day and a half. Not only that, but today on the way to the market, there was a brocantes fair all along the street with antiques and books lined up for blocks!

Now if I can just get over my Xenoglossophobia in certain situations, like when the guy at the market is yelling "choix, choix, choix!" at me at the top of his lungs, we'll be good to go.

Paris City Notebook

Our landlords/friends gave me a "bon voyage" gift tonight after a lovely dinner at Belly:

The Moleskine Paris City Notebook.

Ahhhh. I'm in love. Now I want them for all the cities we'll visit. I might sneak a few dollars from the savings bin for this one...or go back on my adamant denial of any birthday gifts this year (14 days!)...

Paris.

Instead of staying in a hotel, which would severely limit our eating options, I found a studio apartment on Craigslist Paris. It took me about a week to find it, but from the reviews I'm sure it will be worth it...I hope. You never can tell until you get there. One good sign is when you can talk to the owner directly, instead of going through an agency. Monsieur Camus, the owner of this place, seems young and friendly.

So, this will be our home for the week in Paris, in the 11e,

not far from Le Marais.

(courtesy slowtrav)

We are beyond excited about this one! Especially the kitchen. It's so mignonne!