After sleeping in, I woke up, tickled by a few sunrays - as for the first time, it was actually a bit sunny, but still stormy outside.

I took a walk around Versailles, observing a family breakfast with flying sausage and baguette at Pièce d'Eau des Suisses across the street, watched visitors of le château sitting on the stairs enjoying the sun with flying hair and hats, spent some time on Place d'Armes at the entrance of the castle and studied the sociology of tourist groups and the strategies of souvenir merchants.

In a small bakery I bought a whole bag full of Pain au Chocolat, went back home, munched them all and packed my stuff. Heavy-hearted, I left the beautiful apartment, almost falling down the stairs trying to lift that damn suitcase. I took the RER to Paris, got out at Château Rouge and searched for Rue de Panama, my new home in more or less central Paris.

At the station, instead of taking a left up Montmartre like the day before, I took a right into the area of Rue des Poissonniers, a sadly well known street in France, due to right wing propaganda against the Muslim community dominating this area who - due to mosques that are way too small - every friday, convert the streets of this quartier (Goutte d'Or) into a huge open-air prayer session.

What seems to make the right wing Frenchmen very mad and scared, made me absolutely fascinated. Unfortunately I missed the prayer session - I was only there from sunday until tuesday. Anyway I absorbed everything an area almost completely inhabited by African Muslims has to offer.

My hosts at Goutte d'Or were a lovely couple of young French journalists, Marianne who makes photo-sound-documentaries for online media and Jean-Babtiste, a editor for public television. In their tiny and very cozy apartment, they welcomed me like old friends.

I dropped my stuff after getting a crazy brooze from lifting that damn suitcase up to the 4th floor, took my camera and went on a long walk passing Gare du Nord, Gare de l'Est, enjoying a few moments of sun by the banks of Canal St. Martin, walked around the area of Place de Stalingrad and then walked back along the tracks of the métro line on Boulevard de la Chapelle, up Goutte d'Or, where I enjoyed African-French evening family life on the street. When I got home at Rue de Panama with a bottle of wine, Jean-Babtiste and Marianne had cooked a lovely couscous dinner for us and we sat in their livingroom-kitchen half the night, talking, drinking wine and exchanging travel experience before I fell asleep on their bedcouch.


Stairway at le château de Versailles.


We all like to impress.


Business as usual at le château.


My favourite subject today.


Reflections in the train.


In a rush at Gare de l'Est.


A reader at the banks of Canal St. Martin.


Philosophers on Place de Stalingrad.


Pigeon hunting.


Pigeons on Boulevard de la Chapelle.


Philosophers on Boulevard de la Chapelle.


Views at Goutte d'Or.


Parisians love their dogs.


Streetlife at Goutte d'Or.


Streetlife at Goutte d'Or.


A silent spot in busy Paris.

All photos: Carolin Weinkopf

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