I got the film back from the 36 hours of relaxation I managed to squeeze out of the tail end of an otherwise grim business trip to Cannes. I’m really enjoying the inky blackness of shooting Tri-X at night, hand-held, underexposed and not even pushed. Here’s the ferris wheel in Nice again, with the Mediterranean beyond it.

Note that the snack stand, in the Easternmost few miles of the French Riviera before the Italian frontier, is serving up crepes, popcorn, cotton candy, my beloved churros and a few unidentifiables. Despite the illustration near the upper left corner, no sign of “le hot dog.”

Earlier that day, I crossed the border between France and Italy without a passport at over 100kph, instantly bargaining down my linguistic crime from abject butchery of French to mere aggravated assault on Italian. Viva Europa.