Yard Sales, Parisian Style

by Grant Martin on

Twice a year, residents of Levallois-Perret, a small community on the outskirts of Paris, explode onto the street in a veritable orgasm of yard sales. I came down out of my sister’s apartment last week to discover about twenty square blocks of solid second-hand mayhem, complete with food carts, inflatable Harry Potter moon walks and general French glee.

Naturally, the locals have frenchified the entire operation. When I purchased a set of teacups from these two guys they were in the middle of lunch — with wine and cloth napkins. On the way back when I snapped this picture they were smoking cigars with cognac. It doesn’t really create the same mental image as when you think of an American yard sale, does it?

Among the normal bric-a-brac one can expect at a second-hand sale are a high volume of espresso glasses, copper cookware, wine implements and other vintage, European wares. But the best part about the entire experience is picking up something truly unique to bring home — nothing’s worse than picking up a totally sweet European sweater at the London H&M to find out that they already have stores littered around the US where you can buy the same thing for 1/2 the price.

But as the French verb directly translates, “souvenir” is “to remember”. Either way you reach enlightenment, via yard sales or chain stores, vous allez souvenir.

Cliff Barnes: Stockholm’s Nightlife Done Right

by Grant Martin on

Next time you find yourself in Stockholm, consider visiting one of my favorite bars in the world: Cliff Barnes.

Now, I’ve been to a lot of bars in my day and I’m generally a person who’s fonder of the the quieter, lounge types of establishments. Sure, I’ve been dragged to a few clubs, but dancing really isn’t my forte.

Cliff Barnes is set up as a ski-lodge-esque sort of of drinking hall, with large dark tables, wooden trim and exotic wallpaper. When we got there at about 10:30, the line had just started and we could see the happy Swedes dining about their business within. Declining to check our coats on the way in, we were told by the bouncers “No, really. It’ll get hot in there.”

And hot it got. Milling about and enjoying the landscape at 11PM, the lights suddenly dropped and Also Sprach Zarathustra came on over the speakers. Followed by a five second pause. Followed by In The Navy. You get the picture. Not your average dance music by far, and therefore, outstanding. As you can probably guess, it didn’t take long for the happy Swedes and Americans alike to get on the tables and start swinging things around.

We later learned that Cliff Barnes was a recurring member of the telly show Dallas. A perfect name for a perfect bar.

Norrtullsgatan 45, 11345 Stockholm.

Brussels: A City Without a Soul?

by Iva Skoch on

I just spent a few days in Brussels. It’s been a long time since I visited the capital of Belgium, well before it became the EU-conglomerate that it is now. Back then, the only thing I remembered about Brussels is that I didn’t really remember anything. Not because I was intoxicated, mind you. The city just didn’t make a huge impression on me.

Still, I wanted to keep an open mind about Brussels. Although I went there for a journalism conference hosted by the EU, not for pleasure, I liked it. The old town is picturesque and diverse, both architecturally and culturally. I had a couple of good Belgian beers, overdosed on pralines and even had a decent falafal.

On the plane back I was thinking about Brussels. I liked it but it didn’t really make an impression on me. I didn’t love it. I didn’t even hate it. I think I figured it out. Brussels is a city you visit for its particularly good elements (chocolate, beer, buildings…) not for the city’s soul.

(Thanks to Melanie & John for the picture of Brussels.)

One for the Road: Quiet Corners of Paris

by Kelly Amabile on

It’s been awhile since we’ve mentioned some of The Little Bookworm’s unique travel guides. So let’s get right to it — The boutique publisher has released two new books about Paris that are surely worth a mention. The first is this pretty little peek at the Quiet Corners of Paris. Hasn’t the title alone transported you to some narrow cobblestone rue off the Seine? Wandering through winding lanes and courtyards of the arrondissements sounds quite magical. Author Jean-Christophe Napias has identified over eighty of these hidden spots for wander-lovers to explore at their leisure while visiting the city of lights.

And after several hours strolling through the streets of Paris, the hunger pangs will surely require a stop at an authentic Paris brasserie. Which is where The Brasseries of Paris will come in handy. This guide to some of the very best French eateries includes photos and details about the history of these city landmarks. It’s also lightweight enough to throw in your bag when boarding that flight to Paris. Now get going — what more motivation do you need? Bon Voyage!

Homesick with a Polish Cold

by Justin Glow on

[Note: I’m traveling through Central and Eastern Europe through the month of October.]

I feel comfortable, now, writing about homesickness, because I’m no longer homesick. But for the past week or so – since leaving home – I have been, and it has hammered on my ego as a traveler.

I shouldn’t have these feelings, I think – I’m supposed to be enjoying this life on the road. But life on the road can be hard, and the uncertainties and confusions blindside you when you’re weak and tired and lost. When you’re at home, these road blocks seem romantic and adventurous, but when you’re actually there — with twenty pounds of gear on your back — confused, cold, and hungry, it’s real. And then you wonder why you left your comfortable bed, hot shower, fully-stocked fridge – why is it that I wanted to travel?

When you’re away from home – it doesn’t matter if you’re 8 miles away at work, or 8,000 away in Poland – you begin to dream of all the things you would be doing if you were at home. It’s usually productive things, like exercising, cleaning the kitchen, or mowing the lawn. Because when you’re homesick, anything is better than what you’re currently doing. But it doesn’t work this way. When you do eventually get home, you fall back into your routine and never go outside of that box. This is why the fridge rarely gets cleaned, and your running shoes still have near-perfect tread. The quicker you realize the gravity of this situation, the quicker you will stop thinking of those things you wish you could be doing but wouldn’t be doing anyway, and instead start enjoying your time away – focusing on what’s happening right now, even if you are at work, or things aren’t going your way. You are, after all, in Poland – might as well enjoy it. But this is easier said than done.

On the road, something as simple as a trip to the store for cold medicine for your girlfriend becomes an ordeal, where you speak absolutely no Polish, the clerk no English, so communication is broken down to its simplest form. Single. Word. Sentences. “Medicine? Drugs? Cold?” You pantomime your way through a conversation — like a game of grocery-store charades – clutching your throat, faking a sneeze. And even then they’re still not sure what you mean, so you’re given a box of Aspirin and sent on your way. If I was at home, you think, I’d pop into Walgreen’s, pick up some Sudafed, and be on my way. As soon as you start thinking this way, you become homesick. That is homesickness – a longing for the routines and easiness of home. And there’s absolutely no escaping it no matter how big your travel ego.

It can, however, be overcome, and overcome it you will if you travel long enough. Thirteen days is how long it took me this time – not even halfway into the trip. I’m no longer thinking of the things I would be doing if I were home but wouldn’t do anyway. I’m rolling with the punches, confused, still hungry, and acting like a fool in the corner supermarket. And I don’t miss Walgreen’s.

But then again, I’m not the one who has caught a Polish cold.