Today was spent wandering through the 11th and 20th arrondissements. Algerian pastries shaped and coloured to look like sticky honey drenched flowers, velvet and patterned prayer mats outside small stores that offered ornate long dresses and various head scarves and many small stores offering indie handmade goods. The recent ethnic history mixes with the smell of hipster. in Paris they say bobo and if you say boho they think your raving mad! Im doing a walking tour that Ive downloaded but am disappointed that its really short and there isn’t much detail but there is reference to an interesting Camaroonian/French writer, Calixthe Beyala, and her book “The little prince of Belleville” which is written from the point of view of a 10 year old african boy. (can find no online book...will have to order for home.) And also Georges Perec “ The memory of childhood” which I also cant find online fuck it, would love to start reading these while here!
The tour ended in the Belleville park so it was only a short walk to visit Buttes Chaumont. It was so different today not covered in snow and ice as last time but full of the beautiful flame shades of autumn, there were may bald trees covered in what looked like apricots and lots of unedible berries in so many shades of ocher. It is such a beautiful park. I walk and breathe and attempt to let things pass through my mind and not latch on.