Chinatown

In the autumn of 2016 I went to Liverpool, it sounded like a nice destination, although I didn’t know anything of it (just a few guys that made quite good music… )

But in the end I loved the city, its industrial feeling with brick buildings, small museums and its port. Even though I almost had a heart attack when I dropped my camera (and it even bounced!!)

Anyway, it was a trip that I took on the spur of the moment, thinking of it with no special meaning … but it was outstanding, a city I recommend without doubt.

Liverpool has a lot to offer, with different faces, like this one of Chinatown, with the iconic brick houses mixed with the Chinese writing.

By the way, revising the photographs I took (here a few), I just remembered how much I miss my Polaroid Impulse Portrait, maybe it’s time to take her out to (and) have fun.

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Alice’s house

If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn’t be. And what it wouldn’t be, it would. You see?

Molly Malone

In Dublin’s fair city,
Where the girls are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,
As she wheeled her wheel-barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!”
“Alive, alive, oh,
Alive, alive, oh,”
Crying “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh”.
She was a fishmonger,
But sure ’twas no wonder,
For so were her father and mother before,
And they wheeled their barrows,
Through the streets broad and narrow,
Crying, “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!”

(chorus)

She died of a fever,
And no one could save her,
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.
But her ghost wheels her barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!”