I rather like the way things that led to this series have come together. In my previous article I talked about how, among other things, I was running out of wastelands to visit to continue my "Dead Things" theme. On Friday, when my boss asked me "And what are you doing this weekend?", I briefly explained how I'd been looking for a cool place to visit, telling him about the abandoned train station and the photos I'd taken. His partner immediately told me about a recently closed clinic he knew from his son. It was just an aside, but in the time it took me to painstakingly search the Internet, I found the one he was talking about. Early Saturday afternoon, I loaded up my camera, packed a flashlight and tripod, and set off in the direction of the Villa Madeleine clinic. Unlike many abandoned places I've visited, this one has only been closed for three/four years, which makes it still a "fresh" place, if I may say so. Unsurprisingly, everything inside is already ravaged. Getting in was more difficult than expected, partly because from Street View I'd spotted a low wall over which I'd planned to climb. Except that Street View photos are taken **from above**. So I found myself facing a low wall that was *slightly* taller than I'd expected. After a few minutes of climbing, I found a gap in the fence around the clinic, and went through the secondary entrance. All in all, not that it was disappointing, but the place was too neutral for me to really take decent photos of it. Neutral in the sense that virtually everything had been emptied before closing, and all that remained were countless empty rooms. But what I'm looking for in an abandoned place are objects left lying around, evidence of bits of life, traces of someone's passage. That, but not long corridors leading to empty rooms. Fortunately, over the rather large surface area of the thing (I spent quite a while visiting it all), there were quite a few cool tags and little things that were still worth the trip. What the hell, just being able to see what's behind all the "Staff Access Only" doors is priceless. The most intense moment of my visit was undoubtedly at the end. In fact, you have to understand that the tripod I use has an annoying tendency to sometimes put it down, take a photo, then leave, forgetting to take it back. And just as I was about to leave the clinic at six o'clock, someone walking past told me to watch out, as he lives right next door and at quarter past six guys are always pulling up in front and going into the clinic to do their deal. He tells me that the police have already intervened - pointing to the large Police Nationale tape surrounding the entrance, which I hadn't seen - but that after a while the guys continued to use the place. In short, he stresses me out a bit, after which I continue walking to my car and, you guessed it, when I put the camera back in my backpack I realize that the tripod isn't there. I turn around and realize that it's in the clinic. More precisely, **somewhere** in the five-storey clinic, somewhere in the middle of the mess and the fifty or so rooms and blocks. I don't think I've ever spent so much time in a quarter of an hour going up and down stairs, opening every door and turning every ceiling room upside down. You're going to tell me, "All you had to do was remember the last photo you took and that was it". Except that before that, I'd already spent a good half-hour trying to find THE FUCKING CACHE of the camera that fell out of my pocket, during which time I'd already turned the clinic upside down and could have put the tripod anywhere. In the end, I found it in the last place I would have looked for it: on the roof. I hurried out as if the Tank was coming up behind me (because yes, the atmosphere was very No Mercy) and ducked into my car. I went home, took a shower and collected my photos. Just another Saturday.