Crepe expectations ... and the end of a life-changing adventure

Crepes! Must have crepes before leaving Paris!

This is it: my final day in Paris. My final day away from home. Tomorrow, I’ll be on a plane, making my way back to Canada.

Like every other day I’ve been here, I had no plans that were set in stone. I thought I might check out Les Puces de Paris Saint Ouen, which happens to be the biggest flea market in Paris. So, I did.

Getting there was super easy — ride the metro line that happens to be the closest to me to the end of the line. Then follow the kickass directions I found on a blogger's site. The words 'flea market' back home sometimes convey treasures and sometimes junk. The same holds true here; however, these flea markets are comprised of covered booths and stores. There’s antique clothing and purses and crystal … and then there’s junk.

There are several markets and, depending on what you’re looking for, you will can narrow down your broad search to the markets that carry what you’re hoping to find. The brochure I picked up has an excellent map and breakdown of what’s carried where.

Or, you can do like I did and just spend hours wandering. Without buying. I was only tempted on three things and I wasn’t willing to part with the euros required to buy them. One was a set of amethyst-coloured vases with brass carvings on the bottom (1,900 euros for the set); one was a vintage handbag (250 euros), and the final item was a hat from the 1920s that the shopkeeper insisted looked fabulous on me but my big coconut couldn't quite squish in it (100 euros).

After I finished not buying, I came back to my hotel room and decided what I wanted to do next. I read up on a vintage thrift store that charges by the kilo and there happens to be one in the Latin Quarter, so I checked it out. I tried a few things on but nothing screamed “come home with me,” so I left emptyhanded again. On my way to the Kilo Shop, I saw a pharmacy across the street. As luck would have it, they were still open, so I stopped by to check them out. Pharmacies in France are sort of like drugstores in Canada except they have exceptional French skin care at a fraction of the price. It helps to know what you want ahead of time (I did not) because the staff are usually quite busy and don’t always have time to answer many questions. From the pharmacy, I made my way back to Abbeys Bookstore. And since it’s Canadian-owned, I was hoping to support it and the lovely young lady from Canada (Toronto) helped me find the book I was looking for.

(Side note: one of my new friends from the tour suggested the writing of Lelani Slimani, a French-Moroccan writer. I picked up the first book in her new trilogy at Shakespeare and Company and the second book at the Abbey Bookstore).

I asked her how cool it is being a Canadian, living in Paris and working at a Canadian bookstore. Her response was that it’s a dream come true. Maybe I should investigate the possibility. My original plan for this evening was to pickup a sandwich and come back to my room, relax and chill. However, I walked by a lovely little restaurant that advertised crepes. And it hit me: I can’t leave Paris without eating crepes! 

In fact, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t allow me to leave without doing so!

So I sat outside and ate the required amount of crepes (one savory and one sweet) and now I’ll be allowed to exit tomorrow.

Seriously, the food was delicious and I’m glad I made the decision I did. And now I’m back in my room composing this, my last travel post. Next up will be packing, which will be pretty easy. And then my last sleep in Paris — for now. One last time, from the girl who has had the trip of a lifetime, goodnight from the girl under the Paris moon ... and stars ... and all my love.