“Lost in time, a street once known as Rue de la Roulette,” I begin, gesturing towards the unassuming Rue de la Roue. “Imagine Paris in the 18th century. A bustling city, a hub of commerce and intrigue. Rue de la Roulette, marked on maps from 1760 and 1771, played its own small role in this vibrant tapestry.” I pause for effect, letting my words sink in. “Its name, meaning ‘wheel street’, evokes images of rolling carts and bustling activity. But the actual story is even more fascinating.” I lower my voice, drawing my audience closer. “A ‘bureau d’octroi’, a tax office, mounted on wheels, stood at the intersection of Rue de la Folie-Méricourt and our very own Rue de la Roulette. This mobile tax collection point speaks volumes about the dynamic nature of commerce in those times. Think of the officials, perched in their wheeled office, collecting taxes from merchants as they entered and exited the city.” I paint a picture with my words, “The street wasn’t just about taxes. Mills lined this route, or perhaps the nearby Rue de la Haute Borne. Names like Moulin de la Fosse au Sang, Moulin de la Haute Borne, Moulin de l’Horme or du Petit Orme, and even a Moulin Brulé whisper tales of industry and sustenance.” I lean in conspiratorially. “Imagine the rhythmic clatter of the mill wheels, the scent of freshly ground grain filling the air. Life pulsated along this street, driven by the necessities of daily existence.” I bring the story full circle. “Today, Rue de la Roulette, a ghost of its former self, has been absorbed into the eastern part of Rue Oberkampf in the 11th arrondissement. The wheel may be gone, the tax office vanished, and the mills silent, but the echoes of their presence linger. As you walk along Rue de la Roue, remember its rich past, a testament to the ever-turning wheel of time.”
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to