The first ride to Mt Tabor after returning from France

As I begin my climb I can’t but stop to take a snap or two of these magnificent colors, especially the fresh green – still fighting back the inevitable winter.
When I reach the top… Did you know that Mark Rothko grew up in Portland Oregon? Perhaps it’s this Portland citiscapes, the horizontal lines of different colors that inspired his famous work.
I should start a new blog, seriously. “People Shooting Film Around the World”.  This young lady was kind enough to allow me to photograph her Polaroid camera. It looked new so I wondered where one would buy film packs since the Polaroid camera stopped making them years ago. (Hint: the IMPOSSIBLE project)
I ride my bike all year round for all purposes. Which includes shopping. Here’s the character of the day.
I see this cute bike and decide to take picture. As some customes walk in (notice the shoe) I realize it’s a Marijuana Store. America is an amazing country. What you can do freely and openly in Oregon, like buy and smoke pot, even grow it, may land you in jail in many other states.
The fall colors of Oregon are perhaps the best in the world

The last ride south of the Loire

Roadkill is what cars do. The ultimate killing machine
Discovering the old Chateau de Res. Whatever is left of it.
THere used to be a waterway under the chateau. A very smart design, there is a lake nearby. It was easy to connect it to the chateau with a small canal.
I’ve always used the Marathon tires. Even though they are not as fast as the sleek Kojaks, the Marathons are super strong and super reliable.
One of the last sunny evenings at Journet
1200-vieu-pont - Copy
The View Point at Montmorillon
‘Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.’

1200-oiling-bromptonThe Brompton must be oiled for the winter. Until the next year it’s going to be stored folded and greased.

The least exciting part of travel

It takes the whole day to travel from LT to Montmorillon (bike), from Montmorillon to Poitiers (TER), from Poitiers to Gare Montparnasse (TGV), from Montparnasse to Gare du Nord (Metro), from Gare du Nord to Charles de Gaulle (RER), from Charles de Gaulle to Hyatt (hotel shuttle). When you step into your room your are already exhausted
The Greta Garbo arrives from LA three hours later than expected. So we have to wait for almost 5 hours until they prepare her for the return flight to Los Angeles
Meanwhile, I notice something new: a praying room for believers, presumably moslem. As it’s next to the “Toilets” I see an Arab man washing his feet in the sink (same sink where you wash your face and hands)
Finally, we are on the way to LA

Hunting is murder

It’s the hunting season in France and it makes me sick. Indigenous people used to hunt for survival. It was hard and dangerous. Not fun. Today people kill for the fun of it. To experience some sort of exaltation over the murder of a defenseless creature.

By definition, such behavior is a mental illness. Every would be hunter should register with a Psychiatrist for a compulsory course of Haloperidol treatment. Because killing for fun is literally sick.

I don’t even understand how it can be fun. The process is so mechanical, it’s not much different from a slaughterhouse. The scared animals are chased by the dogs in the direction of the shooters who kill them as they get closer. It’s execution.

The public never cease to amaze me either.

When a moronic dentist kills Cecil the Lion all America is outraged. The poor idiot has to go underground as he is receiving death threats.

But ask yourself: what’s the difference? Why killing a lion is a crime, but killing other animals, like deer, boars, stags, rabbits, foxes, etc. etc. is just a fine entertainment ?





OK, you stand with a gun where the bike is, and the dogs chase your animals from the little grove the background – right in front of you. So that you could amuse yourself by killing them. Seriously, you need Haloperidol.

The transformation of travel into music and images

After several years of Jeanne d’Arc research and visiting virtually every place in France related to her. It still feels like I am barely touching the subject.
Pam’s brushes and my Leica. The tools of the trade that have been around the world
Some of the guitars, the ultimate dream machines (a Dano Electric, the Hoffner base – hello Paul McCartney!) two trumpets in their cases and a massive Sitar in the corner. Also in a case.
My Fender Telecaster (France), the best guitar ever
The Sketchbooks of Normandie
Hong Kong, winter 2017. Pam writes down some of my “sayings”
The Rolleiflex for some studio work
Pam’s at work
You just have to keep going, no matter what
Normandy 2017

The long haul home

I jotted this schedule to avoid Paris. Spending a few hours on a train to Bordeaux seemed like a good idea: these trains are larger than the TGV so you can do some work. It’s easier to load / unload the bicycle as well. In fact, all the three seats in my row were vacant so I was able to take a good nap from Marseille to Toulouse.

Bordeaux St Jean

However, there is some train collision which messes up the entire network. I arrive in Bordeaux 55 minutes late. My train to Poitier has left. I have about one hour until the next train. Which is also late! So I have some time for a beer.

Finally, I am on the TGV for Paris Montparnasse. Two minutes after the train pulls off the platform somebody throws a massive rock in my window. WOW. There are some angry people in France.

The conductor calls the police and they make me move to a different seat (the cracked window is just fine with me but they insist).

By the time I arrive in Poitiers it’s pitch-black and raining. I barely manage to hop on the last train for Montmorillon. 40 minutes later I am on my bicycle on the night road to L.T.

It’s drizzling but I feel good. Because of the clouds and water mist there is diffusion of light in the air. So you can actually see the edge of the road.

It’s much worse when it is crystal clear and there’s no moon. The black skies absorb all the light from the earth.  When it happens you can’t see the road at all.  You vanish in this overwhelming darkness! But not this time