Most weekends, J and I try to get out of the apartment and enjoy the city. We do what all Parisians do, we stroll. A couple weekends ago, we headed up to one of our favorite places to stroll: Rue Mouffetard. It's only two metro stops up the 7 line from our house and about a 15 minute walk. This is a street that's jam packed with neat shops luring you in with each passage. At the beginning of Rue Mouffetard at the square Censier-Daubenton there's an open air market where we often stop to buy seedless grapes (when they have them!) and melons. The guys working the kiosk yell out to you to try to get you to buy from them, often a cute smile will get you a discount on strawberries. I remember once paying a euro for a barquette de fraise. That's a steal!
Lately, I've been in a bazaar kind of mood. :) A bazaar is what we would call a General Store. They sell a little bit of everything. I'm sure you've heard of seen the BHV in Paris. BHV stands for Bazaar de Hotel de Ville. Way back when, they used to have a huge bazaar in the place where the BHV is located which happens to be right across from the Hotel de Ville. On the Rue Mouffetard, there's a quincaillerie which is more of a hardware store in French but this shop really is a bazaar. We went in with the intention of finding a wicker laundry basket but I came out with these wonderful little savon de Marseilles:
What else do Parisians do on the weekends? They brunch. Allons bruncher quelque part.... - Let's go brunch... J and I have started a tradition that we go out to brunch twice a month. We usually are content brunching around the house but that defeats the purpose of getting out of the house. Anyway, one of our new brunching places is Au Pain Quotidien. I fell in love with their rustic tables and the jars of confiture and homemade milk/hazelnut spreads
I recommend this place, it's a bit expensive hence the twice a month brunch rule we have but very fun! After brunch, we went back to our ritual strolling and headed back towards our apartement at Place d'Italie to take a nap. On our way back we ran into the strangest little photography bazaar. "C'est tres bazaar", I said to J and he half smiled at me saying you're almost funny. I thought it was terribly funny, though. Ahem. The shop was jam packed with photography gear. From floor to ceiling, the little man who kept the shop only had a little spot right in front of the door, no one could enter the shop. I started taking pictures and the little man shooed me away. This was the first time I had actually seen the shop open. I thought I was obsessive about things...