Paris, episode 1. In which a spring stroll is on the horizon.

Up until I turned forty I had never visited Paris nor did I speak more than a few words of French.  Mari, on the other hand, had studied French in high school and spent the Spring Break of her senior year visiting Paris and other locations throughout France on a student tour.

I trained to Albany on an overnight school trip

(my first overnight away from home) in the spring of my senior year.

C'est la vie!

I had always romanticized France (particularly Paris) largely based on the exotic beauty of the language and sentimental sightings of the Eiffel Tower in movies and on television.  French was the language of love; French food was rich and luxurious, but I had never felt a burning desire to travel to France, particularly since I understood very few words of its lovers' verse.  As my fortieth birthday in 2006 loomed large in 2005

I began crafting a plan (one of my many multi-layered lists) for a special trip to celebrate.  My travel true love as far as a dream trip, however, was not Paris.  Stonehenge had always been number one on my list of life adventures for so many reasons:  mystery, mysticism, spirituality, nature, beauty... England!  I've always been an Anglophile as much as Mari had been a Francophile.  For me, it all started in the very early hours of July 29, 1981.

Like millions (billions?) the world over I too had fallen in love with Diana, Princess of Wales.  The Royal Wedding was everywhere on media that had not yet begun to be social, but was the biggest social event in world and television history.  Even as an about-to-be high school sophomore, I knew this was a big deal although I had yet to learn its significance.  Having never witnessed anything as grand or regal or beautiful, I was determined to learn more so I set out to become an Anglophile and eventually here I was, finally, 25 years later ready to set off on a Spring Break adventure and tic item after British item off my list.

So what does this have to do with fleamarketing Paris?

You may be wondering how all this love for all things British connects with a visit to Paris and I have a simple, one-word (mashup) answer:  Chunnel.  The (English) Channel Tunnel connects London with Paris in a feverishly fast and friendly two and a half hours.  I got my trip to London for my 40th birthday and Mari got a return trip to Paris in the bargain.  That first visit to Paris together lasted all of ten hours.  Chunnel in the morning, Chunnel in the evening.  One of the best (and exhaustingly longest) days of my life!

We exchanged cameras with a couple from the exotic land of Kentucky for this photo at the rear (buttress end) of Notre Dame.

Aller irlandais!

No, not exactly THAT Notre Dame, but an entertainingly romantic

(I promise!) aside on Going Irish in Paris will be forthcoming.

We meandered our way on foot through Paris for ten hours on the Thursday of our 2007 Spring Break to have this final photo taken at a most special place.

About five years later, there was a longer, weekend visit.

About two years after that, another weekend visit.

I'm excited (embarrassed?) to tell you that both those weekend visits were planned specifically around fleamarketing at Les Puces de Saint Ouen at Clignancourt (in my head I always call it "Klingon Court" although I have yet to unearth there any French Star Trek collectibles).  Mari had learned about this famed French antiques slash flea market, which proclaims itself the world's largest, from her high school French teacher.  Even though fleamarketing was not on the itinerary of her initial Paris tour, Mari had long wanted to return and rummage Les Puces and this attentive husband slash travel guru made note long ago.

The "Paris Perfect" apartment rentals site has a great section on shopping in Paris and a well-detailed page on Les Puces.  Often a google search has led me (way) astray, but sometimes you just never really know where you will find the best travel information.

parisperfect.com/paris-flea-markets.php

The markets are open Saturday through Monday and you would be tres sensé to visit this site, consult a guidebook, or at least a map of the markets before heading out.  Here's our souvenir photo of the map (antiques vendors in French blue!) at one of the antiques market entrances off the Avenue Michelet.

Vache sacrée!  Intimidating?  Maybe.  Exhilarating?  Definitely!  Seeing this colorful laminated map as we walked through one of the gates into the antiques section of Les Puces for the first time was a sign of validation that our very carefully planned and perfectly timed weekend was worth the miles and the jet lag.

But wait!

Faire attendre!

I'm getting a little ahead of myself.

Next time a leisurely stroll (of the ten-hour variety) through Paris in the spring.