The Flickr Travellocation Image Generatr

Deep within the sacred trails of Fushimi Inari, the forest hums softly as water trickles down ancient stones. The torii here stand smaller, quieter — not demanding attention, but offering serenity. This is the spirit of Inari: where persistence rewards you with solitude, and the mundane world feels miles away. 🌿⛩️

Down a back street in the centre of Kyoto, one can stumble over the Misaki Shrine. While Kyoto is known for its large ancient temples and shrines, small ones like this hold an intimate, almost whispered charm. The weathered stone fox, or kitsune, stands as a silent guardian, its gaze both fierce and protective, cradling a sacred jewel between its teeth. Here, the air hums softly with the echoes of countless prayers, inviting the curious to pause, feel, and reflect.

Onward from Osaka, we journey into Kyoto, the ancient heart of Japan. Over the next week, I'll be uncovering the icons, motifs, and timeless styles that shape this storied city.

We begin with Hotei: sitting with a serene smile carved in stone, the statue rests quietly, cradling the offerings of countless passersby. Each coin, a whisper of hope, a wish cast into the silent embrace of tradition.

A corridor of light, each lantern carrying a prayer, a name, a wish. At Hozenji Mizukake Fudoson, the flickering glow bridges the seen and the unseen, illuminating the path of devotion with quiet radiance.

Time and devotion have cloaked this guardian in emerald moss, each droplet of water an offering, each prayer a whisper woven into the green. At Hozenji Mizukake Fudoson, worshippers follow the mizukake ritual—pouring water over the statue as a gesture of faith, purification, and good fortune. Over the years, the moisture has allowed nature to take root, transforming the stone into a living symbol of resilience and devotion. Here, belief is not just spoken but nurtured, where moss and prayers grow side by side.

A quiet moment in Osaka, where the past lingers on every street corner. The tobacco shop stands like a relic of another time, framed by the hum of bicycles and the weathered façades of lived-in buildings. Life slows here, where the charm is unpolished but undeniably human. A crossroads of stories, caught in a fleeting pause.

Gruyères isn’t just cheese and castles—it’s where the surreal meets the alpine. Standing face-to-face with this HR Giger sculpture, I felt like I’d stepped into another universe. The blend of gothic and futuristic design against the quaint Swiss village backdrop was utterly surreal—the shift from a picturesque, postcard-perfect setting to violent, graphic imagery was as striking as it was disorienting.

Standing face-to-face with the detector felt surreal. It’s this incredible portal capturing traces of particles from collisions that mimic the birth of the universe. At 100 metres below Geneva, surrounded by wires and glowing lights, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d stepped into the heart of a science fiction story come to life.

So, we arrive at the end of the line—or at least, a pause in the journey. This final photo marks the closing of this chapter of my Petite Ceinture series. But, of course, the line calls to me, and I know I will return. I always do.

This magical stretch of forgotten rails has been my constant companion—a portal for discovery, a source of inspiration, a backdrop for countless adventures. It has been a BBQ spot, a filming set, a romantic retreat, an entryway to new escapades, a point of beauty, and a place of wonder.

Thank you to all who have walked these tracks with me, in spirit or in person, over the years. Until the next chapter.

When we reach the edge of the 15ème, the tracks slip quietly onto the mainline heading south, leaving wanderers to puzzle over how the trains once danced across the river. The unassuming Pont du Garigliano keeps its secret well—it stands where the far grander and more lyrical Viaduc d'Auteuil once spanned the Seine. Like its cousins, Pont Bir-Hakeim and Pont de Bercy, the Viaduc d'Auteuil carried its rail traffic with grace, its elevated arches a testament to engineering as art.

Paris, spared the full fury of London's Blitz, did not emerge unscathed. The shadow of war touched its skyline, and the Viaduc d'Auteuil fell—not from time, but from tragedy—as bombs aimed at the nearby Renault factory found their mark. And so, what once soared above the river now lingers only in memory, a ghostly echo in the city’s restless hum.

At Grenelle, this weathered pair of crossed sleepers marks a quiet but definitive boundary. To the untrained eye, it might look like the tracks vanish into an overgrown past, but this is actually the end of the active line. Behind me lies the abandoned stretch—a sanctuary of tangled greenery and forgotten relics—while ahead, these tracks remain tied to the present, patiently awaiting their next train. Or at least, that's what we hoped as we lingered a little longer than we probably should have.

Nestled in the shadow of towering cliffs, this idyllic farmhouse tells a tale of harmony between human hands and nature’s majesty. The vibrant garden, carefully tended, bursts with life as the mountains stand guard, timeless and unyielding. It is hard to deny the beauty of this part of Italy.

Jazz and Przemek pause before nature’s towering masterpiece, the immense rock face glistening with time’s touch. The Via ferrata Burrone Giovanelli was the first of three stunning via feratta we undertook in the Trento region.

The serpentine curves and fierce lion's head of this antique door knocker seem to guard secrets behind this Parisian door. With every touch, you can almost feel the stories it has witnessed through centuries, welcoming and protecting those who dared to knock.

Marie Antoinette’s version of a “country retreat”—complete with a grand spiral staircase, because who says a humble farmhouse can’t have a little flair? Looks like she was serious about the peasant aesthetic... minus the actual hard work! I'm not sure how many other farms had a Billards Room in them.

Marie Antoinette's version of "getting away from it all"—where tending a garden meant someone else did the actual work! Just imagine: living that #FarmLife without breaking a sweat. She may have been history's most glamorous pretend gardener.

Marie Antoinette: Queen by day, "pretend peasant" by...well, also day. When you can build your own rustic village to play make-believe, who needs real chores anyway? Looks like she might’ve been the original influencer—living that curated country life!

Walking through this grand hall feels like stepping back in time. The chandeliers cast a soft glow, illuminating the opulence of every detail. I can almost hear the echoes of courtly conversations, imagine the rustle of gowns, and feel the grandeur of a world long gone, yet preserved in every corner of this magnificent room.

The opulence of gold chandeliers and rich fabrics contrasts with the cool serenity of the mirrored walls, creating a space that feels both grand and intimate. In this room of the Grand Trianon, light and reflection meet history and luxury, embodying the dual nature of French royal elegance. How does such a space make you feel—welcomed or in awe?