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Taking a break
Marcadet Poissoneres, Paris, FranceThere is something about the run down yet majestic facades of Parisien houses. The grey and beige stone facades with the rows of black iron wrought balcons. So many details, all of which seem curiously forgotten as they look down upon the people in the streets. Stone faces, and vines. Detailed leeves decorating the top of the street doors. Columns and arches everywhere. All of it misty and dirty and somehow left behind. Paris is dirty - and smelly on a hot spring day. And yet, because it is Paris we accept it. It is a part of the charm, a part of why we are drawn to this city. But we also accept it, because it only prooves that Paris is full of life. It is a city where life is lived in the street as much as in the small and crowded appartments and studios.
On every corner, sunshades in all the brownish colours of the 70's shade coffee drinking Parisiens. Brasseries, bistros, restaus, cafés... places which quarantee the continued life of a vibrant city. These places seem as much a part of Paris as
les Street
1e arondissement, Paris, France grandes boulevardes,
Le tour Eiffel and
le metro. They often seem to have grown out of the 70's with colours from dark brown through red to dirty orange, with matching plastic braided chairs and plexiglass covers. Inside they look dark and cosy, but as corner places they also offer a place in the sun. On any given day they serve plates du jour, formulas et cafés, and an original atmosphere. Some are more modern and bright, while some are elder with ironwraught marble tables, but all of them are fora for the local life. They are places with local customers who greet each other across the tables, and make it their regular thing to come at least once a week. As the old man at
La Bande à Bon'Eau the other day, who as he made it to coffee reached across to my table, handing me the accompanying chocolat. The comfortable kindness from a regular customer who feels as if the restaurant offers a second home and a way to get out and meet people on saturdays. Everyone knows everyone under the brownish sunshades.
Anna
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