Found myself in Paris for a day this summer, in a stranger’s apartment filled with mainly strangers, during sad circumstances, but still full of joy. Weirdly being that high up felt comforting. Maybe the 6th floor of a building is the perfect height to be in, not too high, but high enough to give a different view of the world.
Another pic from Paris last summer, of people doing a very normal everyday thing (and little me taking their picture). A question that came up at the beginning of lockdown was what the first thing you would do once it was over would be. Mine was to go for a swim at the Ladies Pond, but it isn’t anymore. It now looks like it will open on the 4th of July, and it will be rammed, and warm, which is the exact opposite of what I loved about it this winter. I can’t think of anything in particular that I want to do now, but just seeing people sitting at a café outside like this again will be good enough for me.
These are the sort of things I love spotting and taking pictures of, and it always seems easier to find when you’re in another city or country. I look forward to the day when we get the chance go somewhere not local again, and even though it doesn’t feel like it’ll happen anytime soon, it will.
Little C trying to hide from Mr Famapa. Kinda worked?
Oomoo used to love the Mr Men books that these guys are from when he was younger. I loved reading them to him, always hearing Arthur Lowe’s voice in my head as I read.
Uhm…
The guys under a very handsome, but slightly squashed tree.
Walking tens of thousands of steps is really hard on your feet, and here the three of us are getting the circulation going, back in our hotel room. Oomoo has inherited the pincer-like feet that runs in my mum’s side of the family. Great for yoga, and picking things up off the floor.
“No pictures!”. Not my fault everything looked to photogenic at our hotel breakfast, son.
Matchy matchy. Definitely went for a Dutch theme, even in Paris. That mango sorbet was deliiiiiiiish.