A Sunday stroll at Clignancourt

My wider-angle lens might be down, but that didn't keep me from slapping on my slightly-less-user-friendly-but-still-very-pretty 50mm and sneaking around taking pics through the Marché aux Puces St.-Ouen de Clignancourt yesterday. The flea market is the world's largest, full of winding alleyways, hidden gems, and stall after stall of "man, I wish I could afford to ship that home" kind of stuff. During my time here, I'll be hitting lots of the city's fleas and yard sales, but I can already tell I'll be back several more times to this particular "puce."

Most of my visit was spent simply wandering around and breathing it all in. And my favorite part had nothing to do with anything I did or did not buy. Around noontime, several of the vendors casually started placing napkins, silverware, the occasional tablecloth, and bottles of wine on a few of the tables for sale in their stalls. Chairs were methodically pulled up, and soon, those tables were surrounded by friends taking a lunch break together after a long morning of selling wares. It was slow and purposeful and warm--familiar faces sharing bread and tall tales on a Sunday. They'll probably do it all over again next weekend. I'm looking forward to finding out.