Another Batch of France
Not red, not blue. I had to photograph the yellow.
Deadstock trinkets at the St. Ouen flea market.
Digging through dessert at the fanciest looking restaurant I’ve ever seen, Le Train Bleu at the Gare de Lyon station. Named for the luxury locomotive that carried the fancypants of Paris down to the golden coast up until the 1930s. (Thank the fashion gods that at least one of my sleeves is rolled, this time.)
Dusk down in Nice, (almost) under the cherry moon.
My first of three personal boxes of macarons. The pitch black licorice was my favorite of all, and of all time. Just lightly licorice-d, minus the usual briney, bitter bite.
A stampede of skeletons at the natural history museum.
And lastly, a tiled threshold to somewhere I never even went.
