30 Sep 2013

Arrivée

I will preface this first instalment of pictures with a brief statement of my anger. I am angry today. A combination of being hard-sold a loyalty card at half past ten in the morning, then finding out that, despite taking a ludicrous two weeks to develop the damn film, my prints still managed to cost an extortionate twenty euros, then witnessing a vehicle collision five metres from where I sat stricken on my bike, has made this a very anger-inducing day.
 
To add insult to injury, the pictures didn't even come out that well because I am incapable of getting the exposure right.
 
I suppose the blissful happiness I've had for the last couple of weeks couldn't realistically continue indefinitely, but god damn. Anyway, I'm going to try and recover some of my less ARGHy feelings now. Bear with me.
 
 
These are the photos I took from the balcony of my hotel room on my first morning in Grenoble. It was six o' clock, I was running on a mixture of fear and adrenaline (because it wasn't like I'd actually slept at all) and I had a day of looking for somewhere to live ahead of me. It's strange, looking back, that I actually had the impulse to take pictures at all in that moment. After these two, I couldn't bring myself to pick up my camera again for almost two weeks, because even being aware that I was in a beautiful place I was so deeply sad that I couldn't really recognise that. Now I'm glad I did, because I get to feel some retroactive appreciation for that newness that I couldn't at the time.
 
It was just as peaceful as it looks that morning: nothing but the sound of running water from the fountain in the square and the eerie announcement tone drifting from the train station.
 
 
 
This is the Jardin de Ville where I spent a lot of my time my first two weeks here. I'd like to be able to say that it was because I liked being in the heart of the town, watching life pass me by and soaking in the atmosphere of my new temporary home. That would be a lie, however. The truth is that this park has free wifi, which was a godsend since my flat, despite advertisement to the contrary, did not.
 
 
I still don't know who this grumpy chap is/was, nor could I ever figure out what the weird drapery around his leg was supposed to be for. One day I arrived to find him sporting this bicycle helmet though, and somehow that made him look even more miserable than before.

 
Just behind the jardin is the téléphérique (cable car) that goes up to the bastille on the mountain. You can just see it here, on the left. More about that in the next post though.


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