When my eyesight was still good, I was a bit of an amateur photographer. This is one of mine.
La Mouffe (crudely, rhymes with hoof) street market in Paris. This was late one Saturday afternoon, the week before christmas. I love Paris, and I know this area very well. Just in terms of wanting to “be” somewhere, this is it.
I’m going back there, as soon as I can. Having just survived one trip to France, I know I can make it. This one will be easier, too. A train ride from St Pancras straight over to the Gare du Nord. I’m going to arrange it just as soon as these nonsense travel restrictions are gone for good, with no asshole politician able to sit down, on a whim, and reimpose them the next day.
When I get there, I want to just find a seat on my own – I mostly crave just my own company these days and, on my own, the only person I am concerned about is me. I can take my time and just sit and absorb the city around me. And, if they are in season, to maybe enjoy some cherries from the greengrocer down at the bottom.