Lille: Rich in history
Many years later, while wandering through Western Europe with my wife, I returned to Lille. Just for one day. A superficial glance, but thanks to that, I remembered the places I had passed through during my time in Lille. And learn more.
The metro runs five stops before reaching the station where I get off. In essence, you have to go up, exit a metro gate, take a few more steps to reach a square – Grand’Place, then go to another square – Place de la République, and continue walking about 300 meters to reach my school. It takes about 30 minutes in total.
There is another name for Grand’Place: Place Général de Gaulle, named after the French president from 1958 to 1969, who was also the leader of the successful French resistance against the Nazis, as he was born in Lille. A few residents of downtown Lille—around 250,000 people—often come here to have fun or shop, as the square is located right in the city center.
Usually, when I leave the métro, I cross Place Général de Gaulle, then walk through the La Voix du Nord building. Then I cross a Republic Square, where there is a large museum displaying an impressive collection of European paintings, from ancient times to the modern era, and continue walking about 300-400 meters to school.
Honestly, I don’t care about what many people consider beautiful at Place Général de Gaulle. The most memorable, for me, is the bookstore named le Furet du Nord, large and tall with six floors.
Almost every type of books published in French is sold here. From children’s books to school textbooks; of course, many novels. There are also souvenirs, various types of postcards, and children’s toys at different prices.
Back then – in the 1990s, after leaving class, on my way home, I often stopped by the bookstore, spending hours… browsing – the joy of someone whose pockets weren’t lined with money. The staff at the bookstore were quite pleasant. Unlike some places, they don’t say anything or glare when they see customers enter empty-handed and leave empty-handed. They respect the customers, ready to order books that, after a thorough search, are still not found in the bookstore.
Occasionally, I would stop by a café overlooking the square, sipping a glass of wine – the only almost worthwhile indulgence in that northern French city. In winter, hot wine; in other seasons, regular wine. Just one glass.
