The bare, dusty ground is littered with rusty blades and crack pipes. The area reeks of urine and garbage. At least three times a day, Charly Roue is drawn to this neighborhood, one of the most sordid in Paris, always following the same ritual. After panhandling tens of euros at cafes not far from some of the most popular tourist spots, he heads to the northern edge of the city, where he can buy crack cocaine at La Colline, or the Hill, France's largest open-air market for crack. [continues 1108 words]