Wednesday, 5 June 2013

Wooded glade

Previously the places I have got lost in have been ornamental gardens and gravel pits. Until I spent a whole morning wandering around the well charted Bois de Boulogne. My frustration eventually relieved by dramatic, and noisy, police intervention against a long row of family 4x4 vehicles tamely parked on a cute leafy lane. The road was blocked by police cars, flashing lights, sirens etc. In seconds all the parked cars were ticketed then roughly bounced then lifted onto tow away trucks. Whole families, joggers, people eating ice creams emerged from the wooded glades screaming, crying, shouting, some clinging to their cars. One man climbing onto the back of a towtruck trying to uncouple his car. I was warned not to take photographs. It was a nasty business, done with military precision. No lives were lost but prisoners were taken. I had discovered the back streets of Roland Garros, a major tennis tournament was in play,  

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