London & Brighton

3 days in Brighton and London, at the cold and silent shore and in the chaos of a design capital.
A moody glow captivating brighton. A magical sunset.
Lost in London. Overwhelmed and small. Wandering in the gorges of a giant.
So much to discover. So little time.

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My grandmother

I knew it was her. I recognised her eyes, her hair, her hands, her smell even, and yet, this person in front of me was not my grandmother. Not anymore. Her eyes were that of a child, lost, looking around with both infantile amusement and childish fear, not understanding what was happening, who we were and where she was.

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The first beams of sunrise radiate through the cold, dark blue remnants of the night. Venice lies in silence, as our boat slowly floats through the water. At this very moment, the golden hour, everyone is asleep. I feel the cold breeze of a new day on my fingertips, as I raise my camera to the beauty of a golden city.

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The light flickers for a moment as I turn it on. The formerly white tiled room lights up in the damp glow of a single neon light hanging loosely at a cable from the ceiling. I walk into a gust of stale air, a moist, warm, mouldy scent of this-really-needs-to-be-cleaned-or-rather-burnt-down-right-away.

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