In a way, you might say I ditched San Francisco for…San Francisco. At least, that’s what it felt like on this humid, heavy Tuesday as I trudged up the impossibly long staircase. Paris has hills, too, it seems.
Popping up on the other side, I tumbled into a tranquil square, with trees spilling everywhere and ivy on the verge of taking over. Turning right, I arrived at Butte Bergeyre, and to my dismay, it was closed. Even after numerous occasions of arriving to something being closed, and making a mental note to always check beforehand, I forgot. Again. Something I miss about home is definitely that places like gardens and parks are generally always open. This one was locked tight.
That didn’t stop me from nosing my camera lens through the mesh gates for a few photos. The 19è is a little out there for me, and I didn’t know the next time I’d be back. I was greeted by lonely watering cans and a peaceful vineyard, all with a surprising (and most welcome) view of Sacré Coeur at the top!
Glancing down at my (google) map, I realised I was not far from Buttes Chaumont, and as it’s been on my adventure list, I decided to hop over.
It surprised me with the sheer amount of green space. I had the impression, for a moment, of being in Central Park or somewhere in San Francisco. Lush and overflowing with greenery, lawns rolled and trees swayed. It’s such a delightful spot for a picnic on the hill as you look out onto Paris. If you climb to the tiny temple (as it’s called), you’ll see, again, Montmartre.
Butte Bergeyre is open Wednesdays and Sundays only, 15h-17h30.
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