During even a short dérive, our senses heightened to the so called ordinary, we meet many things that throw up connections, associations. Things that see us walking with unexpected thoughts, feelings, memories and ghosts.
As I wander without purpose around Croix Blandin on the outskirts of Reims, I come across a regional office for PUM Plastiques.
The effect is immediate.
My head fills with the sound of Belgian pop punk, so much so that I find myself involuntarily first mouthing then singing out loud the words:
“Ça plane pour moi! Ça plane pour moi! Ça plane pour moi! Moi! Moi! Moi! Moi!”
Yes, today, in this street, on a French industrial estate, I am, without doubt, the King of the divan!