Un flux

Formerly a tributary of the Seine, today forgotten in the sewers of Paris, the Bièvre fascinates the Englishwoman that I am. I set off on foot to look for its source and its meanders bring me to the inhabitants of its banks, themselves carried by a flow of a different nature, with much more distant origins. Formerly a tributary of the Seine, today forgotten in the sewers of Paris, the Bièvre fascinates the Englishwoman that I am. I set off on foot to look for its source and its meanders bring me to the inhabitants of its banks, themselves carried by a flow of a different nature, with much more distant origins. Formerly a tributary of the Seine, today forgotten in the sewers of Paris, the Bièvre fascinates the Englishwoman that I am. I set off on foot to look for its source and its meanders bring me to the inhabitants of its banks, themselves carried by a flow of a different nature, with much more distant origins. Formerly a tributary of the Seine, today forgotten in the sewers of Paris, the Bièvre fascinates the Englishwoman that I am. I set off on foot to look for its source and its meanders bring me to the inhabitants of its banks, themselves carried by a flow of a different nature, with much more distant origins.