It was the sensible way to get from a (busstop) to b (workshop) but nevertheless even stepping within its glassy walls felt weird; transgressive. My accidental wander saw me reject various eateries (in such a location even a pret feels impossibly luxe), accidentally stray through the luxury "village" past professional blondes propping up the noonday champagne bar, be spat into the back of a clothes shop by a rule-breaking elevator, and take a rest on one of the luxury leather sofas they have in lieu of benches. Mad and wrong.
I only took one photograph, but that was altogether representative. Not this one; this is from visiting Sophie (with princesses).