108 – The Run

It’s 37 degrees. The track around the park is like an avenue of hot coals. Burning the rubber on my running shoes as I hit the long straight that leads up to the Orangery. The short shrubs along the route providing zero shade as I increase the pace, sweat already dripping from my brow like I’m running under a shower. Continue reading “108 – The Run”

107 – Nuits de Fourvière

The old Roman Amphitheatre on Fourvière hill is a monument to the performers who entertained the cream of Roman society two thousand years ago before being thrown back down the hill after an evenings work to scrape whatever meagre living they could. So what better way to celebrate these actors, singers and poets of Antiquity than by rehashing the idea two millennia later. Albeit with more modern offerings like rock, the avant garde and Madness. Continue reading “107 – Nuits de Fourvière”

106 – Summer

It hasn’t been a good year for suncream manufacturers. Or for the bar and restaurant industry along the Rhone. Frantic owners sucking on pink gins gazing at the litter blowing around the acres of expensively leased terrace. Feeling like they have been looking at the same rain splattered watercolour forever. Tables and chairs stacked up and chained together. Barrels of beer going sour. Wine corking. A million crates of ice cream going flaky at the edges. Rifle at the ready as the bank manager rolls up in this Merc. Two strong drinks. Two bullets. Continue reading “106 – Summer”

104 – Larina

There’s nothing at Larina except dead people and gravestones. Which makes this 7th century village perched high on perilous cliffs overlooking the Bugey nuclear power station, its sinister looking reactor globes a mere sling shot away from what used to be a village hall, a very strange place indeed. Continue reading “104 – Larina”