Paris Fried Chicken

I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough
Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
—Alfred Lord Tennyson, "Ulysses"

So I thought a technical devil destroyed all the photos I took between London and Paris—all of them except the last one I would have chosen to keep:

However, the missing photos (500 of them) were miraculously uncovered on one of the hostel computers in Paris after I left. It will probably take a month or two for me to unveil them. In the meantime, here are some pictures of Lille in France and of Brussels and Bruges in Belgium.


Popular posts from this blog

Portraits of the Early Monsoon

Letters from Eastern Europe

Letters from the Melting Pot