On the lake, Geneva.
At the Bain de Paquis, Geneva.
In a park near my place. I know what you're wondering - is he actually wearing anything? I can only tell you that I decided not to get close enough to be able to answer.
From the next bridge down.
More bars, this time from a bank.
In the flea market at Plainpalais.
The Geneva Street Park.
I went to see Sophie Zelmani this week, a Swedish singer who, Fred tells me, embodies the Swedish word for melancholy, which I learned briefly and have now forgotten. She was really good, though, and her band was fantastic. She also has great bone structure, an invaluable trait for any pop artist.
Sophie's keyboard player. Not as pretty, but plays a very mean Hammond.
The bass.
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