I think I’ve done enough now to count myself a true flaneur. That is, I enjoy an aimless stroll, especially in ancient cities like Paris. I love prowling the older streets…. left over from the rebuilding of the 1870s. Then again, there’s ‘the new’…. in this case, the beautiful cast iron work….
If you’ve ever lived on an island, you’ll have noticed the small weirdnesses that isolation brings. It gets a bit tribal somedays. After the recent fires and storms, the Dangaris went back to their old ways… building ritual sites out of the fallen timber.
These were ephemeral moai… gone in a few days. It’s getting chilly here and firewood is hard to come by.
This looks like something you’d see today, but it’s from around 2008. Seen at the railway station in Beppu, Japan. This team is on a mission, but I’m not sure what it was. Seems to involve masks, spray gear and facemasks. Could have been from the SARS era.
When I think of the word ‘elixir’ it is normally in the sense of ‘what should I drink with this gorgeous food?’ It’s a pleasant thought. When I travel I try to order a local wine, if there is one. Here’s a selection from my Google Maps restaurant reviews… no one is looking for restaurants at the moment!
Stirred by the Discovery Prompt ‘Notes’ it was easy enough to recall a mysterious murder I was able to solve, with some small difficulty, last year. I was spending a quiet few days in the historical town of Narbonne, in France. The inestimable Hotel de Paris has a singular check-in routine. Check in is from 2.30pm, but the hard working staff take their rest between 1pm and 5pm. One is provided only with a code to the front door. Inside, I was led to expect, there’d be all the information I needed to make myself at home.
I let myself in and found 7 notes placed on the reception counter. Each one, I knew, contained a key and a message of welcome. I was the first to arrive. The hotel, small, but comfortable, was deserted. Next to reception was a satisfyingly spooky spiral staircase up to the rooms. I shall not divulge the names on the envelopes. It is far too recent for that.
I felt like Hercule Poirot…. I would not have been surprised to hear of a murder that night, probably in a room locked from the inside.
I did see my fellow tenants at breakfast the next day. Sadly they did not include a retired Major-General, a shifty guy & a young woman, an alluring woman of a certain age, or even an American millionaire (incognito).
The murder then, happened in my imagination… the setting is real.
When this plague is over, I will certainly return. It was a very enjoyable stay.