Les marchés de Paris

When I told people in Palaiseau that we’d be moving to Paris a few of them commented that that is understandable. We are young after all, and want to go out at night, to dance at a boite. Ever since we moved, I live in fear of having to go dancing. But it’s just a regular Saturday night we spend like any couple would: in front of their respective computers.

Gergö will start work on March 1 and I on March 6, so I keep thinking we should run our errands and do our chores before that. And maybe get some sightseeing done and get to know the area while we are at it.

On Friday we went to a market on Place d’Italie. We wandered around the stalls, checking out the produce. I just really like to look and marvel at the fancy seafood and the stage of decomp on some of the cheeses.

We found a fancy boulanger at the market. Of course we had to try the pistachio apricot bread. It’s regular rye bread, I think. You can’t taste the pistachio, but I love the colour

We also stopped by a couple of those shops that sell “Klumpert” as I like to call it. Bits and bobs for the household. I feel like it’s easier to resist the urge to buy stuff we don’t need right after moving. When the memory of the insane amount of stuff we schlepped around is still fresh. But we still needed a few things for the kitchen.

We didn’t find what we needed but while we were on the other side of the river, we walked along the quai de Ivry. There’s a street named after René Goscinny.

Ils sont fous ces Romains.

In German the sentence is “Die spinnen, die Römer!”, while Obelix taps his head, making the sound “tock, tock tock”. In English apparently it’s “These Romans are crazy“. The French phrase, “Ils sont fous ces Romains!” has its own Wikipedia entry. And the exclamation mark is part of the entry title.

I have some projects to finish up before I start to work in March and I should be studying a few new things, so I was going to spend the weekend working / procrastinating. But Gergö went out to shop for food and saw that there was a flea market – a brocante just around the corner. I love flea markets, even though the experience is slightly marred by Gergö sighing and huffing next ot me and occasionally saying “wir brauchen nix!” when I look at stuff.


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