Stolen waters are sweet

From the coast in Normandy we could see the English Channel Islands and listen to BBC radio, which gave me a strange sense of hovering between the two countries. We swam in the September sea, shivered on the rocky beaches, taunted Arturo's grandma's sausage dog, watched dubbed films, and on the last day I fell off my bicycle and cut my knees in the gravel.

Lead them unto living fountains of waters

At the sea the waves went way above our heads, and the saltiness of the water was almost painful. We took these pictures with an underwater camera, standing right in the thick of the waves.

The mountains and hills will burst into song before you

Rosa and I travelled to an immense landscape of waist-high ferns and thick forest, where we ate egg and cress sandwiches, deer-spotted and shot these pictures in the incredible afternoon light.

Everything is possible for him who believes

These were taken in a tiny floating fishing village called Tai O, where all the houses balanced on stilts, the heat was almost suffocating, and all of the locals appeared to collectively lie on their floors gazing blankly at a television screen whilst fish hung drying outside in the sun.

And he dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on the earth

Hong Kong this year seemed a city very much arching away from any traces of the former British control, and none of the streets or signs seemed as animated now that the excitement of the China Olympics has passed. It was as hot as ever, only breaking in the middle with an immense typhoon of wind and steaming rain, and the sky was blue and the air always wet.

Unto the great sea, going down toward the sun

Arcachon and Bordeaux were stretches of blistering blue sky, white sand, winding walks and mussels. One day we hitchhiked between them with an old woman and her bright green parrot, and spent the rest of the time at the beach trying to steal apples and prodding a washed-up dead duck.

Until the day breaks, and the shadows flee away

These are from a long walk along an old railway line that cuts a line over the east of Paris, and from the sprawl below it.

Let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens

My first week living in Paris was filled with climbing up to high places, trying to create clouds from extinguishers, destruction and stupidity. These were taken on the roof of a tower block in the suburbs.

The earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep

Paris is a city that I'm trying and trying to learn off by heart - the streets twist, connect, split, and still are a haze in my mind. I still get lost, and it all seems blurry to me.

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal

Marley came over and we locked ourselves in the bathroom and I shot these pictures. We actually dyed the water in the bath red and started to think of lesbian-vampire ideas, but in the end we settled for shells and spouting water.