Building No 23

I saw this wonderment in Marseille when my feet were hurting so much that I wanted to lie down on the pavement. We had taken a stupidly long walk on a madly hot day and there were no buses due to a bike rally along the coast path.
If I had had more stamina I might have cheekily asked the owner of the house a bit about it, but it was just a quick snap and then dragging our feet up the hill, hoping we might find a bar at the top.
I especially liked the bricked up window and shutter fashioned out of whatever the concrete/sandy substance is. I think they even moulded a little house martin's nest in one corner of the window.

Marseille

Oh yes . . .
I remember why we seriously thought about moving here.
That was about six years ago now and it was a last minute bout of cold feet that put us off: chucking it all in, start again, noise, crowds, aggression, price of somewhere to live etc etc . . .
But standing on the top of the 'Cité Radieuse' the iconic 'Le Corbusier' building, all the feelings were seeping back again.

It's something about the hills/mountains that surround the city, viewed from just about anywhere, the glimpses of the sea, the port - a continual reminder that there are huge natural things surrounding you, water, wind, towering white crags: it's possible to escape at any point into semi-wilderness or into blue nothingness on a boat.



Yeah . . . the grass is always greener . . . I love where we live and we don't have to exist in a fifty meter square box, and Mark can play the piano when ever he wants. I know all these things but it doesn't completely shut out that daft sneaking a look at estate agent sites, and thinking about how our son might benefit from in a more cultural environment. Or maybe it's just that five year or so itchy foot thing that we both get sometimes.