When I was reading Marcel Proust's "a la recherche du temps perdu", I never thought I would find it in this cute little village in Rubelle, near Paris. I have to admit that my condition was as mysterious and strange as the name of this alley. I had 37 glass of champagne the night before (till 6 am), but I was as good as can be and I was doing photography at 9:00 am, the same day. No headache, no hangover!
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