These boots are made for walkin' (Paris)

Early warning: no photos today.

Paris: St Ouen Markets

After yesterday's major walk you would think we'd take it easy today. Wrong.  Although we had a later start, it was another day of walking.

Today is the legendary DAY 3 in Paris.  It is our third attempt to spend time in this beautiful city.  On our first try we were marooned in England by a wild-cat British strike and of course last time Jayne fell down the stairs.  Technically she was in Paris longer than three days but beyond Day 3 it was hospital, hotel room, air port and home, so it doesn't count.

The day commenced with a couple of Skype calls home and then we set out to test the local boulangerie.  It is just around the corner, but will only ever be a last resort.  It was pretty average given what we'd become used to in the Loire.  The croissants and pain-au-chocolat were heavy and had been glaced.  How gauche.  The baguette was OK, but lacked the taste and crunch we have come to expect.

There is an artisan Boulanger a little further down the road and we purchased a baguette and some macarons from there on our walk this morning.  The macarons passed the test and I assume the baguette will do the same, in which case they will become our breakfast place for the next 10 days.

After breakfast it was straight to the metro and to Porte de Clignancourt where the St Ouen markets reside.  This place is massive, with a large proportion of it undercover.  It goes well beyond the usual market fare and extends to antiques, furniture, old books and curiosities from Asia.  There were some truly amazing pieces and I suppose I could have got the camera out and taken a few shots, but hey, who hasn't seen a unicorn or a genuine bear-skin rug or a statue of a polar bear or a stuffed weasel?  There were acres of chandeliers and period furniture.

The tourist books all have the St Ouen markets open from Saturday to Monday.  While this is correct, there would have been less than 50% open.  It was very quiet and not crowded.  Given the markets don't open till 11am I would have thought the stall holders might have waived lunch.  Incorrect.  Open at 11 and close at 12, or at least show disdain for customers trying to make a purchase while you chat with other stall holders over a glass of spirits.  It's a life.

One antique bookseller was friendlier than the rest and upon inquiring where we come from, told of his trip to Tasmania and Canowindra (he was pleased to know we knew where this was) to do some birdwatching. He was interested in the finches we breed and invited another stall holder to give us an impersonation of a kookaburra.  He then complimented Cait on her French and handed us his card, wanting to know if we too had a website.  Clearly there is money in selling antique books...

As the feet began to remember the day before, we stopped for lunch.  Once again I went for a salad option.  What is wrong with me?  The salad over here tastes so good and I am yet to have a bad coffee and I've had one every day at a different place.

We headed home via the metro and got out at Oberkampf to visit the bottle shop there.  I prefer Oberkampf to where we are at Republique, it is quieter and less rushed.  Mission accomplished we walked back home to rest our feet and plan for tomorrow.

Ah, the metro.  Tickets for anywhere in the Paris region cost €1,70 one way.  With a train every 5 minutes or so, why would you walk?  Aside from walking off the pastries and the cheese and the wine. Now, that's a life.