Excuse my French. As a flaneur, I enjoy throwing French phrases around. Let me translate the headline that leads off this post. What I'm saying is, "How are your alleys?"

I know. You don't have alleys. Neither do I. But Chico has lots (or beaucoup, as a flaneur would say), and I can tell you how they are. A flaneur goes everywhere.

Chico's alleys are: bucolic, hidden in plain sight, an incomplete network, notable for where they don't go and far neater than you may think.

If the old part of Chico reminds you of a quiet small town, the alleys will confirm this impression. These narrow dirt and gravel, tree-lined ways have no real traffic and no noise, except for the occasional dog barking and lid thumping down on a garbage can or dumpster.

Alleys have been out of fashion for several decades, but new urbanism enthusiasts are bringing them back. So it's no surprise that they are common in the oldest and newest parts of cities and scarce in the typical mid-20th century suburban zones.

Strangely, downtown Chico and the South Campus neighborhood -- the oldest parts of Chico -- have no alleys. This is why delivery trucks have to double park on Broadway and Main streets. This is why it would be absurd to put in angled parking on these two streets.

The Mulberry and Barber neighborhoods and the streets and avenues are well-endowed with alleys, yet even here they are not a parallel universe to the street system they mimic. I tried making my way north through the Barber neighborhood  in the area between Broadway and Normal Street and found that some of the blocks are missing alleys entirely, or they run east and west instead of north and south or they come to a dead end somewhere in the middle.

Among the most interesting anomalies in all of Chico are the two sets of alleys between Citrus and Arcadian and First and Second avenues. One property is entirely alley-locked. The more easterly of these two alleys runs along the playground at Citrus School after it crosses Second. It stops at Third because the school itself is in the way, then picks up again behind an apartment building on Fourth and keeps going for two more blocks.

Once in a while you come across an alley with an open vista, such as the one the runs along west end of the site of the Enloe Medical Center expansion project.

The only other pedestrian I met on my alley assessment walks was the screaming dumpster diver. As a flaneur, I'm aware of  Chico's many street people. This seeker of  empty cans seems harmless, but his periodic cussing at the top of his lungs can be unnerving. I stared him down in a pleasant sort of way as I walked past him. He didn't scream at me. But later, when he thought I was out of earshot, he muttered that I should stick to  the streets.

I don't intend to make walking in alleys a habit. I feel like I'm half-trespassing as I treat myself to this back view of Chico. I feel like a voyeur. Surprisingly, there aren't as many granny cottages and other backyard living units as I thought -- not enough  to tempt a would-be Peeping Tom.

But there are a lot of different kinds of garages -- modern and rustic, immaculate and falling down, colorfully painted and bare wood, squat and tall, spacious and compact.

The thing I like most about alleys is that garages are right next to them.  I don't like garages that face the street. They have zero curb appeal, especially the three-car monsters. 

I want to give credit to fellow Norcalblogs blogger Joe Shaw for getting me interested in walking Chico's alleys. He mentioned them in one of his posts a few months ago.

He wrote: "The alleys expose a back side of Chico that you won't see from the streets. Life is more casual in the alleys. The beauty is there, it's just a bit more subtle. Weather-worn trenches that must be negotiated as you drive through, unkept small yards as well as hanging plants on slanted porches, cars parked within 10 feet of the front door, back yards that join the back yard of the larger house that faces the street, flaking paint that exposes raw wood, lazy cats nestled on worn out furniture, and squirrels running effortlessly over fence tops and telephone wires."

The alleys make a flaneur want to appropriate yet another French phrase and cry out "Chico alors!"