Marché Aux Puces: Paris Flea Market

It was a lovely warm autumn day in Paris yesterday and frankly I was looking for something interesting to do.  I had seen advertisements that there was a fête, or festival gong on at the huge flea market that is on the outskirts of the city.

I must admit that I had not been there since ages, maybe the last time was even when I was a student, so that in itself says I am not particularly drawn to flea markets per sae.  Besides there are always flea markets or brocantes going on in various Paris arrondissements year round, which is enough to satisfy my desires  for these sorts of things.

Nevertheless, intrigued by the idea of a fête, I hopped on line 4 and headed to metro stop  Porte de Clignancourt, which lies at the top of the 18 arrondissements of Paris. Crossing over the city line to Saint Quen is not the best neighborhood as one heads to the market. There were thickets of street vendors , both arms dangling with gadgets that I had to dodge for several blocks until I finally arrived.

The entrance to the world’s largest and most famous flea market still looks rather scruffy to me, engulfing me inside with winding cobblestone alleyways brimming with every knick knac, bric à brac, or antique and  trivia one can possible desire.

The Marché Aux Puces is divided though into several sub markets, some specializing in just antiques,  rare books, linens, bric à brac and some a mixture of everything.   There are 11 plus markets and some.   It is huge and easy to get lost.  I would say it is best to come with some idea of what you are looking for as the choice of wares on display is overwhelming!

Experts will tell you that you rarely, if ever these days will be able to discover a real bargain or “find”.  The merchants are much too sophisticated to let any antique or object of value to fly out of their hands without an exchange for a hefty sum.

There are many rare antiquities on display from furniture to chandeliers, and statuary, and they will command the highest prices of probably just about anywhere in the city.  If you are an expert, then chances are you will be delighted to see such treasures, as there is so much to look at and choose.

For the rest of us, buyer beware would be an appropriate warning, as there are dubious vendors who love to out right lie and stretch the truth about the age or value of any article you happen to fancy.  Since most objects never are priced until you ask, the vendor can size up whatever price he guesses you are willing to pay, and they are probably an expert in this sort of things.

A friend of my who lives here was showing interest in an array of antique furniture, and when she showed some hesitation about the price, lo and behold ,another person, appeared on the spot who instantly expressed the desire to buy the same pieces of furniture.  After that little staging, my friend felt compelled to buy those pieces of costly antiques at the asked for price.

The Marché has changed somewhat since I was there eons ago, in that now the rare book and paper vendors are under  a very pretty glass roof building.   Certainly an improvement from before, when soggy, rainy Paris must have been a headaches for those vendors to keep their merchandise dry in the previous open air stalls!

In so far as the supposedly  festival taking place this weekend, I felt somewhat dismayed to have found only a few musicians.  However quaint and cute they were, honestly there is usually more to be found at the Châtelet subway station.  An exception was the absolutely adorably decorated Bistro Chez Louisette, that was filled with joyous chants and singing  old Edith Piaf french songs.

All in all I am glad that I went, as walking on the ridges of the market towards Porte de Montmartre to catch a bus to return home , I ran into a wonderful vegetable fruit vendor called Chez Mario.  With a bunch of some of the most beautiful white turnips, worthy of being painted, he threw in some green scallions as a gift.

Frankly I can do away with all those trinkets, and expensive what nots however beautiful they are, but to pass up those beautiful white turnips at such a great price would have been a crime!  True there wasn’t an abundant of leaves, which the french throw in the trash, but for me there was enough to cook up very small pot of greens!  So in the end, this southern girl came home with her best treasure!