From a young age, I've been drawn to vintage and antique furniture, clothes and household items. Not only they do have their own unique energy, but they also carry spirit and history of the past. There is something mysterious and magical about vintage and antique elements. When I got the opportunity to travel to Paris I right away made a list of places that I wanted to visit. On the top of my list was Paris’s largest Flea and antique market, the famous Marchè aux Puces de Saint-Ouen. The very next day after my arrival I got ready for an adventure to the 14th arrondissement. The market was just outside of Paris near the Porte de Clignancourt. Since it tends to close up early in the afternoon, I woke up early as I could. It was a beautiful sunny summer morning and I was full of excitement. I step out of the apartment and head five blocks toward the metro. Just before I got to the metro station I stopped at the corner of a pastry shop and picked up a freshly baked crispy croissant and a cup of delicious coffee. I felt cool sensation in my chest either from drinking coffee or from overwhelming excitement. I entered the metro station and it took me about 40 min to get to the place. Once I got out of the station I found myself in a very diverse neighborhood. There was a great mix of Africans, Arabs and foreigners. The streets were dirty, crowded and had odors of strange foods cooking. I quickly started following my map's direction. In order for me to get to the antique market I had to go through a street market where immigrants from all over the world were selling cheap merchandize. The sellers yelled “Madam, Madam” from all sides of the market. I called my friend to express my disappointment. And once the vendors heard me speaking Russian , they started to call me “ Natasha”. Uh, how dare they! I felt like there was no end to it. There were hundreds of stands selling anything from small electronics to Adidas sport items, but