The road down my way that links this place to other places is the Nationale 151. It’s not quite as iconic as a Route 66, but it leaves town through the edge lands, beyond the sundown. It is a messed up mix of shops and theme restaurants. It is that first and last vestige of civilisation where it is all car parks, and dumpsters and windswept scrublands blowing the flotsam and jetsam of weekend shopping and front seat burgers and back seat shags. It is a place I haunt in idle deserted moments, trying to capture its full vulgarity and indifferent ugliness. Here are a few photos of Route 151, and shots of a few other “non-places” in my adopted hometown of Bourges in central France.