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15.08.01: Au Balcon, boulevard de Ménilmontant / rue de Ménilmontant Paris may be at its most desolate on Assumption Day, but even the 16e and 17e are mobbed -- well, around the Bois de Boulogne and Arc de Triomphe, anyway. On this incredibly steamy day, I rode clear across town, then clear back across town for some more authentic lack of company (truth be told, I did sit down at a café just off the Place de l'Étoile, but after 15 minutes of sun-baking and not geting served, I took off). The city kind of slopes upward as you head east from the Bastille area toward Belleville and Ménilmontant, so not wanting to get much more steamy I stopped for a drink before things get rough. This café on a barely-French traffic circus (and I do mean circus) offers the nice touch of a little bowl of salted peanuts with your order. A woman walking by on the sidewalk was especially taken with this extra touch, and asked me if I'd mind if she had a few. Not a real problem for me, but my serveur was not at all taken by her partaking of his customer's peanuts, and thus his lesson to her began. When she tried to drag me into her defense, I stuffed my mouth with peanuts and buried my nose in the little Paris à vélo book I had bought. It mentions an area of the 20e just before the périphérique known as "la campagne à Paris," and it was. Split-level cottages, quiet but not-so-narrow streets, and a café called Country Bar across from a terrific little square. More than a slice of French countryside, actually, it's almost a scaled-down version of what American subrubs tried (and failed) at.
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