Intime

There are places you cannot adequately describe but only recall, places where you ingest emotions, hoping to hold on to their vibration and then later to share them. Cafe Intime in Copenhagen is one such place in which, for a century so far, between laughs and tenderness, between pleasure and surprises, individuals cross each other's paths, meet, sometimes find one another and transform. Underneath a light that becomes amber rain they greet us, with their kindness they give of themselves and accompany us. They may not even know that, in Barcelona's Barrio Chino, there once was a place called La Bohemia, which resembled their little palace of the night. Unfortunately, it has closed. It was a real-life drama and is an immense cultural loss. And, sadly, we don't have any photos, just few documents, to preserve the memories of those nights filled with an infinite tenderness. Cafe Intime, which we wish at least another hundred years of sweet nights, deserves, to avoid oblivion, a photo album with and for its friends. /Christian Caujolle.