France, like many European countries, is a treasure chest of (long) weekend trips, whether you want to explore charming old … More
The three days in this small Atlantic seaside town, three hours from Paris, was exactly what I needed. The mixture … More
The cut between the summer holidays and working autumn that has now transformed into a chilling winter seems more brutal than the one during school years when the classes and the tests began.
The view or the smell of pine tress brings back so many things. The feel of summer alone, then the favourite summers of my childhood on the many islands of our neighboring country.
I’ve always had a special relation to cliffs and edges of any sort – fascination and vertigo entwined, in the most curious of minds. Of parts of my mind at least.
I don’t think much when it comes to framing my pictures while roaming around. If it’s not the actual walls of the streets’ houses, it has to be the empty branches or the green leaves of trees.
There is something about Normandy that always captivates me. But there is something particularly spellbinding in Étretat.