I love Croix-Rousse. I always go there when I’m in the mood to stroll through winding cobbled streets and take endless pictures of passages. And facades. And authentic people being authentic (#liveauthentic ;-)). Watching artisans creating bread, pottery, bouquets of flowers or wooden chairs makes me feel all authentic. And there will definitely be more posts coming on all of that. But for now, I want to show you something away from this beloved hipster/hippie heartland.
When I first started exploring Croix-Rousse, I stumbled across it when I took a left from the busy main street. And there it was, completely unexpected. Between fading pink and yellow buildings behind a purple gate. A garden. A deserted garden. Some would call that paradise. And on busy week days, but just as much on a sunny Saturday, it is.
It’s maybe as big as two rooms, filled with overgrowing greens and a few benches decorated with graffiti. Some of the paths you can’t even see and looking closer you’ll find little treasures like flowers to take home (yes, I admit it, I’m a flower thief!) and snails relaxing on the leaves of a bush.
And you can’t help but pick a wooden seat right in the middle of it, entirely hidden from anyone passing by, with a stalk tickling your neck and the smell of green in your nose. The city is so far away there, even though you’re right in the middle. You might hear someone practising the violin from one of the apartments and someone else setting a table outside for lunch.
You won’t even dare to listen to music or talk to someone because you just want to soak it in. The warmth of the sun, of the colours, of the smell. I imagine it would be the perfect place to write and recite poetry. Or napping. Or bringing your pain au chocolat.
I won’t tell you where my secret garden is. But if you have a look at the sign in the picture, you’ll probably find it on your own.
Do you have any little paradises for yourself? Tell me about them in the comments below.