day 11

It's our last day in the suburbs - we're moving to cité des arts tomorrow.

under the guise of needing some extra milk I made gordon walk to the shops with me so I could get this photo. as we approached I started to practice my pathetic french in case someone was out the front.
"you can't take a photo there" gordon hissed "they're gypsy squatters. they'll say yes, ask you inside for a vodka and the next thing you'll know you will wake up in the ukraine minus a kidney".
but I’ve been wanting to photograph this all week. a good stencil is hard to find over here.
“I’m going to keep walking" he ranted, "if you get taken, I’m dressing up in drag and I’ll pretend to be you for the next three months - no one will ever know. I’ve got your walk down pat. don’t think that I wont”.

no one was outside when I got there, but without a backward glance, gordon continued walking.
next time you see me, check out my legs just in case - gordon's are much nicer...