Visiting the famous Paris Flea Market or “Clignancourt” had been on my list for a while. The problem is, I am not the greatest flea market person. I go to them with the best intentions, see acres and acres of stuff, get overwhelmed and want to run.
My friend Julie, a designer with finely honed flea market skills, tried to show me the joys of a good flea when we lived in Charlotte, NC. She took me to our local Metrolina flea market (we even paid up for the early bird tickets so it wouldn’t be too crowded) and enthusiastically began the tour. But, about an hour into our journey, she ended up parking me at a picnic table with a sandwich. I failed the test.
So, when I told my husband I wanted to go to Clignancourt while we were in Paris, he was floored. We took the Metro to “Porte de Clignancourt” early Saturday morning (the flea is open Saturday to Monday, 9-6). We walked up Rue de Rosiers to the center of the market, stopping first at the Paul Bert section.
It was a visual feast of shapes, colors, furniture and antiques.
The weather was beautiful, so wandering past stalls and down the winding paths was a pleasure.
Not to say we didn’t take any breaks. We took a crepe break, an espresso break, a pomme frites break…. It is easy to stop and recharge with little cafes dotted all over the flea market. We sat at a tiny outdoor cafe in the sun for 30 minutes eating Nutella crepes. Heaven.
We purchased a few things and had them shipped home. They conveniently have shipping stations in each section of the flea market.
It was a wonderful day thanks to a patient husband and gorgeous weather. I lasted about three hours and every minute was well worth it. Julie, Metrolina?
the wry home