Under the Spree


There is a tunnel, a very cold and humid one. It is quite an experience on a hot hot day. Like entering a natural refrigerator with the ghosts of the visitors from the 1920s still frozen in the moment the moment of crossing the tunnel.



Some places and times of day make me want to take a picture, not to use the word ‘inspire me’.

What is so distinct about this city? At least come Winter it is the crowded smoky bars smelling of cheap tobacco and beer. A smell your coat, scarf, and hair carry home with you. One that the morning after reminds you of the previous night.

A day at Auteuil – following Hemingway

It was hot and the horses were running. We were betting on horses and drinking wine just like Hemingway did almost a hundred years ago. A splendid day.

And here, a quote:  “My wife had a horse one time at Auteuil named Chevre d’Or that was a hundred and twenty to one and leading by twenty lengths when he fell at the last jump with enough savings on him to keep us six months. We tried never to think of that.” (E.Hemingway, A Moveable Feast, 1965 edition, p. 50)

(the pictures were taken with an analog camera and then digitalized from the negative.)

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