Sunday Market

It’s a Sunday morning in Paris. That means that most shops are closed, leaving a void that is filled by neighborhood markets. This morning, my host Madame walked me to the local market and let me loose. Although I didn’t purchase anything, the sights, smells, sounds made me really feel like I was in Paris.

imageTrinkets old and new

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imageLovely Limoges (Like any Auntie?)Β image

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imageDes Olives

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imageRabbit

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