I am what I am, Popeye’s father used to say.

And that’s what I am.

If you really need other infos – well, I’m not English, I live somewhere in London, and I like to stroll around. The paths of the the city, the paths of the woods, the paths of the country, the paths of magic and life – I walk all of them, and from each I take some pleasure.

This blog is about spirits and imagination, about tarmac and steel. We’ll talk of glass, we’ll talk of ghosts, we’ll talk of hosts, we’ll talk of many worlds, and London among them.

The crossoroads are the places in which the veil between the worlds is thinnest. Everything is possible in them – you could meet the devil, and sell your soul for a song. Literally. But, well, if it was a great song, it could be worth. You could meet Legba, or you could meet Hermes. And you could meet, scariest of scarie-s, yourself. This is what crossroads are: places of danger and magic, and laughter, sometimes.

Legba is the god of the crossroads. I am, more simply, a spirit among others, lost in the crossroads of a city full of wonders, with a faulting grasp of the language and a passion for what the city shows, and what the city hides. This is my unordined, chaotic, unworthy guide. Nothing to sell your soul for. Just something to read. Nothing more, nothing less.

Welcome to my crossroad.

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