We spent the weekend criss-crossing Paris engaged in our new favorite past-time: market hopping. Yes, I know, we were supposed to rest up, catch our breath, and take it easy. But we just could not stay in - the weather was glorious, and the vendors were calling. As Ron reminds me, we will sleep when we are mort! Each market has its own personality, and it was fun to be swept along in different crowds. Close to the Eiffel Tower, the vendors spoke English, and sold tons of cheap clothing and shiny souvenirs, most of which was made in China. The irony was not lost on me today. The Marché President Wilson in the 16th Arrondissement was trés chic, upscale, with the nicest things, at the dearest prices, of any outdoor market we have visited yet. Then there is everything in between. While at the Marché Bastile, we stopped to enjoy a pastry, and found a spot to sit near a couple of street performers - he was a good ole boy from the USA, with a distinct country twang; she was all French. We waited a while for a break, as I was curious to know their story, but they just kept playing. We finished our snack, tossed a coin in the guitar case, and walked away to Jimmy Buffet's "Pencil Thin Mustache" - in French!
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