Every Sleep is a Little Death…

i alie paris

Hot damn, Paris is one of my favourite cities. The Eiffel Tower haunted me at every turn, I traipsed through cemetaries in the snow & blitzed past hollow-eyed skulls whilst discussing relationship dysfunction with one of my favourite peoples, we chilled out surrounded by aging, page-crinkled tomes, sipped café express in street-corner cafés & solved the world’s problems. I tried a hookah pipe & did not speak hardly enough French, lost my train ticket to Madrid & spent a night drinking on the steps of the Sacre-Coeur, took more photos of graffiti than people & went to the loo on a building site. I walked around Paris, linking the districts together, becoming lost & cold & wet & still marvelling at being in the deliciously French town. I ate a lot of bread.

petit pont

sacre coeur


little sparrow

skull wall

tastes like apples

book case

Yeah, but where did Hemingway sit?

More at my Flickr. Next week…Madrid.



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