I looked at her cream-coloured walls and modern bathroom, thought of my own crumbling - though admittedly cheap - hovel and reminded myself that it is, indeed, time to find a new place.
After we'd finished admiring her light-filled new pad, we went out on an urgent mission to find coffee - the stronger the better - and fast. On the way to the cafe, which turned out to be packed with French tourists (sleekly tanned French mother to small son running toward oncoming traffic: Roger! Qu'est ce que tu fais?! Non, c'est tres dangereux! Tres, tres dangereux je dis!) I photographed the corner grocery, because I loved the colours. And the name: It's called "The Blessing Market."
*New Yorkers: think Alphabet City pre-late 90's gentrification, but without the street gangs and drug users and with better weather. I know, it's hard - but try.
