This place is home to the proverbial devil, but somehow it fails to be hell.
It is clearly autumn …
… heading for winter.
In the shelter of the harbor …
… lie the ships; …
… big ones, …
… small ones …
… and old ones.
The city looks like this …
… or this, …
… or this, …
… all just a short walk apart. I face the locals …
… and read the signs. Some messages seem clear …
… others seem somewhat ambiguous.
There is a part of town …
… where research …
… is conveniently close to the pub.
The night presents …
… what hides during the day, …
… and it appears that this hell has become a place of comfort.
The Third Planet 