Day 24: A Green Sugar Rush!

I got myself up early today. The plan was to head to the Marché aux Puces ("Flea Market") that was all the way out by the last stop on metro 4: Porte de Clignancourt.

To power me for the day, I devoured an apricot which I am sure was delicious but ended up being tart after having already brushed my teeth. Oh well...

---

Then I tried withdrawing money before hopping on the metro. Now, that was a frustrating story. The pin that I have used many a time before utterly escaped my memory. I was left penniless...well, not really but it was nonetheless a frustrating experience.

---

Note to parents: Thank you for helping me with my dilemma and staying up all the way on the other side of the world. You really are rockstars, no matter how cheesy that may sound. The metro dropped us off close enough to where we planned to start our exploration of antiques and junk. Walking underneath the border of the proper city of Paris, we made it to the other side where we hoped to see rows upon rows of booths. It was 9:00, the market should have been open for two hours already (according to TimeOut), and we expected to see much bustling.

---

Yet, we saw nothing of this sort...it was like a ghost town. Was it still too early? Was the site wrong about it being open on Monday? Were the French taking a day off? Many questions ran through my head but none of them were answered. Unfortunate is the word I would use. We took a little stroll and saw a couple booths with interesting knick-knacks displayed, but it definitely was not the real show. With not enough going on and truly looking for the real experience we decided to make our way somewhere else.

---

Over to the 10ème arrondissement we walked i.e. a long walk full of smells from rotisserie chicken turning in the windows of the boucheries.

Arriving once again at Du Pain et des Idées, we waited in a long line...for pastry that I felt was not as good as last time. Slightly disappointing. The flavors, though, were appealing. I ordered this bread that had a cumin aftertaste: La Fougasse. I also went for another escargot, but instead of the pralines I thought the garishly colored bright green one was the move: chocolate and pistachio. When I say green, I mean electric green curling with the circle of glazed dough. We made our way to the bank of the Canal Saint-Martin and sat to eat our winnings.

---

Deciding to continue the walk back, we headed towards the Marais where we passed many cafés, the Centre Pompidou, and a jewelry store (*we took a little perusal*).

Eventually making our way all the way back to the apartment, we were pooped. The sugar crash was happening, and I felt drained.

---

Collecting the necessary materials, I metro'd myself to Reid Hall to work before my meeting about my summer project. A quick chat and a movie later about Charlie Hebdo before the attacks, I was back at my humble abode where dinner consisted of quiche, white rice, green beans, flounder fish in lemon and breaded, finished off with black current sorbet, and butter cookies.

***Photo credit goes to Anna as she captured the essence of our Monday in some strategically placed pastries.