Marcher à le marché

On the advice of our estimable hostess, Catherine, our plan for the morning was to walk (marcher) to the market (le marché), this one being a thrice-weekly event at Place Monge, two streets over from our flat on Rue Linné.  Although there are a number of places that correspond to our Safeways, most Parisians still do their shopping at specialty stores for bread (boulangéries), meat stores (boucheries or charcuteries), or fishmongers (poissonneries), and they procure fresh vegetables at one of the many open markets that flourish around the town.  As we delightfully discovered, these markets are more varied and expansive than our vaguely comparable farmers' markets, in that they also have stands where one may purchase everything from cashmere shawls to hats to jewelry, clothes, flowers, and many other items.  They usually look something like this:

And these are sights that greet the happy wanderers at the Marché:

Field-fresh bright red radishes, white and red onions that conjure savory sauces, and fresh greens of every known and many unfamiliar varieties.








Wheels, blocks, wedges, and tubs of fragrant cheeses, of an extent far beyond the field of view of this frame.









Strawberries, both field and wild, enough to evoke both forever and Bergman, and vibrant with freshness. Is your mouth watering yet?





So we restocked our home stores with some yellow peaches, apple bananas, unsalted butter, and fresh Anjou pears.  Rounding the next row, Annie encountered a field of fashion magnetism that she couldn't resist and, well, let the scene unfold as it actually happened:

Style, with a capital "S"!  Ready for the runway, Annie linked her arm in mine, and we wended our way back to the flat...almost.  Along the way we ducked down a winding narrow street, and came upon this "librairie".

To make a long story short, our grandchildren can look forward to storytime including a signed, rotogravure edition of "Le Ballon Rouge", in French!









I know.  We have to work on impulse control.  But this is Paris, and our Tenth Anniversary!  All the stops are out, Baby!

And the day isn't even half over yet...