One of the many small streets that run through the southern french towns. Everything just feels like a well light museum now.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Old Streets, Aix En Provence/France.
One of the many small streets that run through the southern french towns. Everything just feels like a well light museum now.
Weired Beach Floors
I begin to miss the Australian beaches as I become a weary crab when I try to navigate my bare feet into the ocean.
Nice, France Bedroom
Sleeping in the grooves of rocks that line the ocean front of Nice. Moments before I took the photo I was awoken to police boats spraying down the area, to wake up and scatter the many other gypsy's and travelers that lined the front. A whole day then dedicated to drying out and separating the clumps of my sleeping bag.
Fools on a Rock.
Travelers of the night after a run away train left them stranded. We sit on the rocks drinking our selfs to the hard nights sleep ahead. Later in the night I awoke to French men prowling on us like black cats, lighting there paths with I pods and Nokia mobile phones.
French Riveria
After A few months of rolling hills, highways and grey skies the blue blue ocean and the tanned bare skin of posers painted its self in front of me as I finished a Heinieken to the falling parachutes.
Tourist Attack.
From the top of the castle steps I watched tour buses pull up.
the doors opened and the point and shoots flooded the small
town. Giving me a chilling flash back into the past
of invasion.
the doors opened and the point and shoots flooded the small
town. Giving me a chilling flash back into the past
of invasion.
Cat stairs.
Early morning as I walk out of a small town
a cat sleeps on the old stairs. Pain au chocalate in
hand I catch the shot.
a cat sleeps on the old stairs. Pain au chocalate in
hand I catch the shot.
Castle sky
The last lift of the day droped me outside the front
door step to the town that wove up to the castle sky.
I Later met someone who gave me a room in the
entrance way.
door step to the town that wove up to the castle sky.
I Later met someone who gave me a room in the
entrance way.
The Game
I've never seen 4 men so serious over a game before. As I watched on in suspense to the flying balls I was told by a French man called Jean Claude to my right that this night divides the small town into dispute and rivalry.
The Game
They watch on as yet another ball is thrown into the dark air. Slowly spinning and falling to the hidden jack. Nothing is said.....
Digne Bedroom.
Finding a place to sleep for the night At least I got
a roof over my head. Even though it creaked and groaned
a roof over my head. Even though it creaked and groaned
Gap, France
Walking out of town to find a place to sleep.
The town just before day time fell to night
after a warm day had a real od atmosphere.
The town just before day time fell to night
after a warm day had a real od atmosphere.
Bourg st Maurice Bedroom
Taking Refuge just off the main street in someones
back yard. I was hidden by the fence but woke up often
to find myself half way down the hill in view.
back yard. I was hidden by the fence but woke up often
to find myself half way down the hill in view.
Dutch Community
Lost in translation. A french ride leaves the highway
and drops me off out side a dutch community. It was
good to speak English again as the fire and sing longs
dried my damp cloths.
and drops me off out side a dutch community. It was
good to speak English again as the fire and sing longs
dried my damp cloths.
Italy Bedroom
I was on my way to the stage of Tour de France.
After crossing through the Mont Blanc from the
day of Swiss to the night of Italy I took Refuge
on the side of the road. Getting up early to a weird
early morning hitch to the top of the mountain.
After crossing through the Mont Blanc from the
day of Swiss to the night of Italy I took Refuge
on the side of the road. Getting up early to a weird
early morning hitch to the top of the mountain.
Dry Time
I chase the sun in my charity given tent. My clothes
lie damp on the floor after 4 days of wet grass and
truck roofs.
lie damp on the floor after 4 days of wet grass and
truck roofs.
Vittel Bedroom
The front door of my 1 night house. I woke to
rain bouncing through the gaps in the fern and
would moan every time it hit my sleeping bag
clumping the goose feathers together.
rain bouncing through the gaps in the fern and
would moan every time it hit my sleeping bag
clumping the goose feathers together.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Papparazzi for a Painting, Paris/France
A Security guard approaches me in confusion as to why Im the only person not taking a photo of the Mona Lisa.
Lost in Translation
Sitting outside a locked shop as I counted the raindrops
that would hit the road in front of me. French translation
book in hand and no where to go. One of the worst days.
that would hit the road in front of me. French translation
book in hand and no where to go. One of the worst days.
Mr Mustache, Vittel/France.
A press photographer at Tour de France. It must take him hours to shape the beast.
Mr Mustache
Mr Mustache and I caught eyes. I didn't no if I should
look at tight leather boots or big Mustaches.
look at tight leather boots or big Mustaches.
3 Leather boots
I couldn't get my eyes off the french police's boots
As they patrolled the tour start stage.
As they patrolled the tour start stage.
Empty Roads
I waited hours for a lift. After a 12 hour day
of abandonment. The road seemed to be busy
until I pulled a sign out. I would then put my bag
down to get something out and a group of cars
would pass to a turned back. I later walked into
town a wreck. Music started as I got closer to the
city. I felt I deserved a parade.
of abandonment. The road seemed to be busy
until I pulled a sign out. I would then put my bag
down to get something out and a group of cars
would pass to a turned back. I later walked into
town a wreck. Music started as I got closer to the
city. I felt I deserved a parade.
The sign of Hope
As I tried to walk along the highway faster then the
setting sun. A moment of hope came in the form
of a white metal sign.
setting sun. A moment of hope came in the form
of a white metal sign.
The rythm of wheels
Serenading the Pelleton. I'm sure they loved it.
Even though the sound of helicopters and bicycle
cranks echoed . Leaving me standing there like
an Idiot in a burst of wind.
Even though the sound of helicopters and bicycle
cranks echoed . Leaving me standing there like
an Idiot in a burst of wind.
Torrenne Bedroom
Bedroom on top of a Tour de France truck. I lined
the roof with my bags and layed in the middle with a
rope attached to my toes.
the roof with my bags and layed in the middle with a
rope attached to my toes.
Roof tops
The roof tops of the small town Tonnerre. It felt
like I was in a film as I watched night time fall as
chimneys started to blow smoke.
like I was in a film as I watched night time fall as
chimneys started to blow smoke.
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