I'm on day four of this seemingly never-ending French street. I always underestimate how fiddly and time consuming painting actually is, having naively thought on Monday, "How long can a row of houses take? It's just blocks of colour, nothing technical!" But I forgot that the roofs are tiled and that on canvas you need two or three layers of paint to get solid colour. Still, I'm not grumbling as it's been sort of uplifting in a colourfully therapeutic way, so far...
Here's the first section with the road and shops painted in, plus the archetypal beret-wearing-croissant-munching Frenchman.
This bit of the street is a hotel and the wooden struts holding it up end in wooden carved gargoyle faces which are very very old...older than very old things that are very very old indeed (that's the extent of my historical knowledge on that.. If anyone local wants to expand please feel free) Me and Grip stayed here once after the ceiling collapsed on our heads in a different town. I suppose you could say it was 'meant to be'
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