The Countryside in Paris: Explore the Porte de Bagnolet Neighborhood

The Paris Vignettes series features the inspired work of street photographer William “Bill” O’Such in themed installments.

I discovered the Porte de Bagnolet neighbhorhood through Greeters, my favorite way to unearth hidden gems in Paris. A local named Josselyn led a walk in her neighborhood. Arriving at the metro stop at Porte de Bagnolet, I was hit with flashbacks of visiting the area over 25 years ago, when it was a bit rough, especially walking toward Montreuil, which is apparently now a cool place to be.

After meeting at the MacDo, we headed up a steep set of stairs (“vers la campagne”) to warm up, passing a butterfly museum (“musée du papillon”), which is apparently run by a local; you just need to ring the bell to enter. As we climbed the stairs, Josselyn mentioned that this area is known as “La Campagne à Paris.” It was built in the 1920s on top of the rubble from Haussmann’s reconstruction by working-class families who were allowed to build houses as they saw fit. Upon reaching the top, we were welcomed by calm, green gardens — an escape from the bustling porte below (“la campagne à paris”, “porte jaune”). Houses here rarely go on the market, as they are passed down through generations. One house featured a ceramic wall that resembles the nearby flowering plants (“mur ceramique”). I’ll definitely need to return in the spring!

It seems there are a lot more cats on this side of Paris (compared to the dogs on the west side), and while walking, we spotted a cat at the top of the stairs that saw us and immediately dashed down (“chat de bagnolet”) to greet us, jumping into Josselyn’s arms.

After wandering through various parts of the area (“ceramique par terre”), we stopped at the second oldest church in Paris, which has one of the few cemeteries directly connected to a church. It’s small but well-kept, with its fair share of cats (“chat de cimetière”), including some little homes for them (“maison de chats”). The cemetery features typical decorations (“fleurs de cimetière”, “pas avoir peur”), but the most interesting was a tombstone that puzzled me at first. Then Josselyn suggested I sound it out loud, and it all made sense (“nez vert mort”). Try it! Before descending the stairs, Josselyn mentioned that this was the location for the final scene of Les Tontons flingueurs, which after some research back home appears to have changed little since that 1963 film.