If I were a big-time blogger with a global influence, I don’t think I would tell you about La Campagne à Paris. If it became more popular, it would be spoiled.
But I’m rather lucky because only a select group of exclusively nice people (right?) read my blog.
So I think it’s safe.
I think I read about La Campagne à Paris on Paris Zigzag, a fantastic site for discovering little-known places in Paris (in French). It’s a tiny neighborhood in the 20th, just minutes from the Porte de Bagnolet metro stop (line 3, take exit 2).
It’s a tiny little haven of cobblestone streets and storybook houses with pretty gates and flowers in front. It was nearly deserted – I encountered a few residents, a couple wanderers like me, and a cat.
I hadn’t been to Paris since September, which is a long time considering I only live two hours away. I’ve actually been to California more recently than Paris, and that’s about a twelve hour flight. Hm. What do you think of that?
I love Paris, I really do, and when I got off the train at Gare de Lyon in May I was thrilled to be back. Of course it was crowded and the weather was more bipolar than Russell Brand (it all makes sense now, doesn’t it?) but it was lovely to stroll through the 12th past where I used to go to the Marché d’Aligre and to walk up those tall bridges over Canal Saint Martin.
My favorite thing to do in Paris is walk. This is probably why I didn’t care to make the trip all winter long – it’s no fun to stroll in the wind and cold (although I did miss the Christmas window displays – no one dresses up for the holidays like the Grands Magasins of Paris). On the day I arrived back in Paris, the weather was warm and stormy, fluctuating from sunny to rainy countless times throughout the afternoon. It was humid and windy and reminded me of an indecisive June in Chicago.
I walked from the 12th to the 5th to visit a close friend and her nine-month-old, then back to the 12th to crouch over my laptop for an hour before hopping on the métro to République. I never spent much time in République when I lived in Paris, but I love the expansive place that serves as a stage and a meeting point. I’ve lived on the ritzy left bank, and I’ve lived north of Montmartre – next time I live in Paris, I’d love for it to be around here, in one of these eastern arrondissement pockets.
After rosé and charcuterie at Chez Prune on a street corner terrace opposite the Canal that was just barely protected from the multiple (!!) flash storms that poured downed, we walked down the Canal and out of the 10th all the way to Bastille. My friend discovered that a bar she had loved during her student days had changed hands. It’s funny how so much of Paris stands still in time, unchanging through decades and centuries, and how rapidly the rest of the city is constantly evolving.
I always say I prefer living in Lyon to Paris, and it’s true. I breathed a sigh of relief upon returning – no more fighting through crowds, constantly worrying about pickpockets, or passing through the stench of urine. So freeing to go out in public without having to hold your purse and your nose for dear life, don’t you think?
But it can’t be denied that Paris is a city unique and alive, so multifaceted that one person can never know all of its secrets. That’s the charm of it, isn’t it?