Le Tumbleweed: Museums are free on the first Sunday of the month

Day 21
Sunday June 5

In case you ever wondered where you can get
a dead armadillo...

Today we decided to check out the world's largest flea market at Porte de Clignancourt (which is translated to...guess..."flea market"). We were warned that the market's perimeter, no matter which direction from which we approached, would literally be flea ridden. They weren't kidding. We were greeted by a thousand aggressive street peddlers with arm loads of gucci knock offs. After dodging them for about ten minutes, we made our way through tents with polyester clothes and cheap bling. Nearly ready to give up (again it was ridiculously hot outside and it smelled bad), we wandered down one last-ditch effort street, where we found a table of interesting costume jewelry. The adjoining street had a collection of vintage purses. The street after that had an antique bottle opener with Napoleon's face on it. The street after that was brimming with flapper dresses and beautiful clothing from the roaring twenties. Then we found the old vinyl. Then the furniture and antique framed mirrors and musical instruments. Needless to say, we started to enjoy ourselves. I found a little store that was overflowing with vintage Jean Paul Gautier, Chanel, Hermes, and a thousand other beautiful dresses, feathery hats, bejeweled gloves, studded heels, and furs. Basically I would like everything I ever own for the rest of my life to be from this store. Alas, the prices were all in the 500euro range. I have decided to scrap this whole poetry thing and become a bandit, specializing in stealing pretty clothes.

Matisse: one of many

Moving on: we spent a solid four hours perusing the good stuff, then realizing we were a tad fiesty due to low blood sugar and high temperatures, we hopped on the metro back towards our area and grabbed lunch (quiche au fromage et jambon for me) and a massive Evian and posted up at a park off Rue du Rivoli. And whatdya know, the park turns out to be the grounds for the Modern Art museum. Furthermore, on the first Sunday of every month, every museum in Paris has free admission. In we went. (duh).

The first thing I saw was an Andy Warhol. Then a Chuck Close portrait (shout out to Mrs. Fleenor's art class). Then a Salvador Dali. Then upstairs, MATISSE and PICASSO and KANDINSKY galore! I was geeking pretty hard. I was a kid in a candy store, bouncing around from one gallery to the next as if the paintings would vanish if I didn't get there fast enough. This museum was decidedly more "edgy" than any of the others we've seen thus far (Louvre on Wednesday though...stay tuned). I lingered as long as I could without being obnoxious (poor Diana and Kelsey), then we went up the outdoor escalators on the side of the building and got a panoramic view of the city from the Eiffel Tower to Sacre Couere.

my morning face

We figured that the elusive falafel restaurant couldn't be closed two days in a row, so despite my minor grudge against it for smiting us the day before, we trekked back that way. Ouvert! (open). Yay. We sat and feasted and drank three carafes of water, then rollie pollied ourselves home.

View from the top of the Modern Art museum
note Sacre Couere in the distance

For a split second I debated going out, but L'Embuscade seems to be closed on Sundays (lame), and I was suddenly feeling very boring. So we popped a bottle of wine, and began to wrestle with the DVD player...twenty minutes later after we got it working, we learned what a region code is. For those less-than-technically-aware people like myself, a region code prevents you from watching a dvd outside the specified region of the world encoded on the disk. It's a very mean little invention. In other words, we were foiled on our attempts to be mellow and domestic. Ironic. So we huddled around a laptop and drank our wine and watched Amelie.

By the time the movie was over, a new show started up outside. Lightning storm! Excellent. I love thunder and lightning. When the lightning cracked, the whole sky light up like broad daylight. I sat there with the window open with the rain coming in on my bed for an hour. Oh. And I found my glasses, so in putting them on and checking out the newly clear view from my window, I have discovered that I can see Notre Dame. Yeesh. Paris...