Neighborhood markets are an important part of life in Paris, as anyone who has been here more than a week can attest.

The city sponsors 65 outdoor markets, according to franceguide.com. City workers show up at wide spots on the streets (often, the medians, but sometimes the whole street) the night before the market is to be open and they construct an insta-market with long lines of temporary booths, with canvas roofs and backs, tables for the wares, and the booths usually are lined up in two aisles.

(By 3 p.m., the day of the market, which usually ends about 1:30, the merchants are packed and gone, the booths have been broken down and loaded, the ground is hosed down, and it’s hard to believe the market was up and running a few hours before.)

In the Marais, on a Sunday, the nearest market we know about runs north of the Bastille, on Boulevard Richard-Lenoir, and it’s a big one.

Going to a Paris market is a very Parisian thing to do, and everyone really ought to go at least once, just to look. The marche isn’t the Louvre, but it tells you more about daily life here than any of the museums.

The popularity of the outdoor markets, which are not cheap (but not as expensive as their too-precious U.S. equivalents), demonstrates the willingness of the local citizens to pay a little extra if they know they are getting fresh fruit, meat, fish, eggs (above) and vegetables.

The Bastille market was particularly crowded, which was interesting, because the city does not feel crowded at all. (Not many tourists, and practically no Americans.) Those were folks from adjoining neighborhoods.

We jostled our way up and down a few aisles, and people were lining up for the chance to buy vegetables. No. Really. Fifteen people in line to get fresh turnips (navet) or pumpkin (potiron) or leeks (poireaux).

Customers often are given a chance to taste the wares on sale. If you wonder if those apples from the countryside are still fresh, ask the merchant — and he or she will cut you a chunk to pop in your mouth.

We bought carrots (carottes) and celery (celeri) and turnips and mushrooms (champignons) … because we are planning on making turkey soup out of the carcass of our Thankgiving bird. Mostly, we were just looking and watching and sniffing the yummy smells.

Everyone else was doing shopping for Sunday night with the family, or shopping for the week, packing their little rolling carriers (poussettes) with stuff fresh off the farm or out of the North Sea. (Some wonderful-looking seafood on sale, too.)

At the outdoor markets, a few guys will be selling durable-type goods. CDs, DVDs, socks, shoes, T-shirts. But they always are in the minority. And on the fringes, generally, of the layout.

The Paris markets are mostly about food, and you may have discerned that people here are pretty picky about what they eat.

That thousands of people throng their local markets also says something about the quality of things on sale there. We bought pears and apples, and they were wonderfully tasty. But we expected it; they had come from the marche.