I do not know this place...
It seems like a dream somehow...a memory maybe...
It smells of holidays in my youth...
Roads are boiling…
Buildings heated up...
A scent of sea and river…
Olfactory hints of old innocence...
When stoic people did stoic things with less money...
It all seems so much better now/then...
The sun in Northern Lands...
Rivers and seas Mediterranean Blue...
And ice creams and gulls and brilliant light...
Of skin and shade and sitting outside...
This strange land...
I do not know this place...
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