Like many, the first time I visited the famous Paris flea market, Marché aux Puces de Saint-Ouen, I missed the mark literally and figuratively. I approached the Marché aux Puces, as many do, from its edges and worked my way past streets of vendors selling old clothing and cheap fashion and faded magazines and boxes of books and discarded children’s toys. The concentric rings of shabby sellers that you must wend through to reach the original heart of the market have grown over the years, stretchi...
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