After snapping a picture at Place de la Republique.
I found shelter on a shady ledge around the center fountain.
A few seconds later I heard a gurgle:
my camera, which I had set down next to me, slid into the pool of water behind me.
Who knew the stone surface was slanted, creating a perfect slide for DSLR?
Incredulously, I fished it out, water dripping from every surface.
Arles is teaming with photographers this week for the festival so lucky me
one quickly came with instructions on how to salvage my water logged device.
My camera sits in an air tight bag of white rice, a moisture absorbing grain.
Unfortunately, the process could take days or weeks.
It dawned on me that France and my camera are not suitable.
This is the third consecutive time I've been in the country and have been unable to use it.
First time was a focus malfunction,
last year it fell from an unstable cafe table shattering a part, and now this.
Warped sense of humor you have, universe.
C'est la vie. I will adjust. All is perfect as is.
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