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Polaroid SX70 Onestep with PX70 film (Batch 12/11)
L/D wheel = Full Dark
I met the very dapper Phillip enjoying a quiet lunch time pint on my walk yesterday. He was a little surprised that I wanted to take his picture but was happy to comply when I explained I was learning how to use this film (and camera). So glad I didn't allow my usual nerves at approaching strangers to get the better of me.
Here's another in my ongoing series of
portraits of the legendary
Billy Beck,
all taken in and around his
home
and delicately
sun-dapped yard
in Silverlake, California,
USA.
Monsieur Beck was a clown
at the Cirque Medrano in Paris
in the 40s and 50s, sharing the
stage with other legends, such
as Buster Keaton. In 1960 he moved
to Hollywood to work in movies and TV,
and he's played thousands of roles in
both and continues to work to this day. This
was the first time
in about 40 years
that he put on his clown makeup
and costume. Here
he's reading the funnies
from the Sunday L.A. Times.
GBRf 66717 with a very dirty face, heads the Hull Docks to Ferrybridge gypsum through a bright dapply Ferriby.
While we know that gypsum is typically pure white, it can be contaminated with impurities giving it various other colourings.
But can anyone explain why wagons are filled with creamy coloured gypsum and dark grey gypsum IN ALTERNATE WAGONS?
Ferriby 13 Nov 2020
Bright and Dapply
· ▸ Ascendance Tattoo includes:
ㅤㅤ• Fresh version
ㅤㅤ• Faded version
ㅤㅤ• Worn version
· ▸ Neck - Arm Tattoos · Can be worn separately
· ▸ Ascendance Tattoo is fitted for:
ㅤㅤ• Lelutka EvoX
· ▸ Copy
· ▸ No Modify
· ▸ No Transfer
ㅤㅤｓｈｏｐ ｔｈｉｓ ａｔ ｅｑｕａｌ１０ 苛 尉 ズ ょ ド
ㅤㅤ
▸ Ｊｏｉｎ ｕｓ ｏｎ Ｆａｃｅｂｏｏｋ
ㅤㅤ
▸ Ｊｏｉｎ ｕｓ ｏｎ Ｉｎｓｔａｇｒａｍ
ㅤㅤ
▸ Main Sim
ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ
===LoA Computer Database===
Clark falls at Kuttler's feet, bruised and bloody, as Zod landed, he grabbed him by the throat and held tight. "Kuttler-" he gasped. "The JLA teleporters... They-"
Kuttler smiles as he places his hand over Clark's face. Super indeed. "-Leave behind a residual trace, yes. Think of it as a genetic imprint. With this device, Superman, we'll be able to latch on to each and every one of those teleporters, tap into their data-banks, that is to say, everyone who has ever used them, and form a link with the Phantom Zone that will drag every single member of the Justice League, the Titans and all your other fanclubs, through the wormhole, with no hope of escape. Poetic justice, no? How many times have you banished one of *us* in the Phantom Zone, or the Source Wall, or in a whole other universe."
"Not- what I was going to say-" Clark groans, as Zod's grip around his throat tightens.
"Let him go," Kuttler sighs. "If he tries anything, well, *then* you can kill him," he mutters to Zod. The General nods, and marches out of the room.
"Go on."
"Noah, I saw it's inner workings. It won't do what you think it will. It will pull in *anyone,* hero or villain! Zod doesn't want us *in,* he wants his family out, and he's going to do it by overloading the system," Superman explains.
"Check it, if you don't believe me."
Kuttler looks at Superman suspiciously, and walks over to the console, looking over the schematics. Putting his phone to his ear, he calls Bane. "That's not right... The schematics are all wrong... Bane, this is Noah, I-"
A blast of heat vision shoots the phone out of his hand. Zod, had returned.
====Nanda Parbat====
Arthur reaches his hand out to his brother, standing mere inches away from him. "Orm-!" he pleaded, as a gloved hand forced his head into the sand. "How does it feel, murderer?" Manta growled, digging the trident, *his* trident, deeper into his side. "That's how my father felt."
Orm watched with bated breath. He had no lost love for his brother. The pacifist bastard could've taken the surface world any time he wanted, but instead, he begged for peace. Peace! And yet, this... this barbarity wasn't conquest, but torture, plain and simple.
"You lost my sympathy when you murdered my son. When does it end, Manta?" Aquaman gasped, as he coughed up a mix of sand and blood. Manta knelt beside him, his eyes glowing.
"With you, strung up like those birds."
~
A terrible rumble echoed through the valley. A strike from Mardon's weather wand had critically damaged the Skull Ship, and as it crashed to the ground, sand flew through the air, knocking back everyone in its' path, Grodd burst out from the cockpit, his face filled with animalistic rage. Tearing his smouldering cape off, he turned to face McCulloch and Rory, their guns aimed at him. "Rogues...." he snarls, as he pounds his chest, and leaps into the air. As the battle raged on, reignited by the arrival of the Misfits' allies, the Injustice League ran for cover behind a feeble stack of rocks. Tremors from the crash landing had separated them from their camera crew, and they were terrified. "For god's sake, we're pinned down in here, tell me someone's coming!" Tockman screamed, no longer concerned that his fellow Green Arrow villains might recognise him. Scarlet Skier had flown in five minutes ago, and left just as quickly.
“Big Sir texted G’Nort!” Disaster replied feverishly, narrowing dodging a bright pink arrow fired by an even brighter, rainbow coloured archer.
"How the hell did Big Sir text?" Tockman yelled back, leaping out of the way of falling debris.
"Text to speech mostly," Brown murmured, the only one with any sort of composure.
Removing his clock face, Tockman sighed, exasperated. "You know my next question, Arthur."
"Wait, wait. I found it!" Multi Man cries out in delight, as he goes through Sir's phone. "Dear Doggie, need help from... dessert man," he finished, his face dropping.
"Dessert... You know, I really could go for a sundae right now..." Tockman said, as he unclasped his cape, and dapped his brow, his stomach now rumbling. “The last time I had a sundae was four months, two weeks, four days, and twenty seconds ago.”
“What? Can’t a man enjoy a banana split?” he added, as his teammates turned to face him, their brief moment of silence shattered with a blur of yellow and black flying above them, and quickly being dispatched by a figure just out of their eyesight.
"Sinestro!" Disaster cried out. "Who the hell took out Sinestro?!"
His question was answered moments later, as a shabby haired, foul smelling man jumped above them, a rusty old lantern in hand.
Ratcatcher looked down at the horrified group, and, grinning perversely, turns to Cluemaster. "Hello Artie, how's the stump?"
Arthur looks at Ratcatcher, and as he turns to run, trips and falls on his face. "It's him!" he yells out, the memory of his disarmament years ago fresh in his mind. "Kill him, kill him now!"
As Otis approaches, giggling to himself, Disaster makes sure to pull himself, Tockman and Pramble out of harm's way. Whatever history Artie had with him wasn't worth getting killed over. Now mere inches from his face, Artie began praying softly to himself. He'd already survived a plane crash, this was not how he'd die. And, as Otis drew a blunt knife from his belt...
Pow. Big Sir punches him in the face, knocking him out cold, and reaches out an oversized hand to Cluemaster. "I'm not thanking you, you tub of lard," Brown muttered, as he walked off.
~
Rigger looked out towards the desert, just below them, a ninja, about twenty years old, was thrown to the ground by a mass of fur and teeth- Cheetah. Her claws ripping out his throat, Joey watched helplessly as she began lapping up his blood. King Shark, smelling the still warm corpse, marched over, and dug into the boy's leg.
Chuck's hand on his shoulder snapped Joey out of his trance. "It's ok to be scared, Rig."
Rigger bowed his head. "Scared? Heh. Nah, scary is knowing that every day of my life I could get pulled over, or stopped in the street. And because I have a criminal record, no one would even think twice about it. Knowing that you've served your country, but your family's deaths are written off as cold cases because they ain't top priority. Or maybe because the building contractors paid off a couple unsympathetic cops. Couple a ninjas? Army of supervillains? Easy peasy!"
Chuck smirked. "Good. Because we're gonna need you, buddy."
~
As Drury climbed up to the surface, he was met with anarchy. Bodies strewn across the desert, buildings on fire, supervillains indiscriminately killing whoever they could find. 'This,' he murmured, 'Was no place for a child.' Yet, defying his orders as usual, were his children.
"Hi Dad!" Axel shouts, as he flies past him, a metal crown, Grodd's, atop his head.
"A-Axel?" he called out, turning to an equally bemused Norbert. "You brought your kids-?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice.
"No," Drury began. "I-"
"Daddy!" Kitten squeals, as she embraces him in a bear hug. Drury turns to the green and orange figure now following after them, a goofy smile on their face.
"Kitten-? McCulloch! Did you bring my kids to a warzone?!"
"Ach, the wee ones insisted," he smirked toothlessly, as he gives Axel a proud high five. "Grand job wi' tha monkey wee man. Could'ne ha' doon it without ye."
"Ah, well I owed him, didn't I?" Axel smiles, gesturing to his metal arm, him and his sister's attention now turning to the black figure behind their dad.
"Oh, uh, kids. This is your uncle Norbert," Drury mutters, still a little off balance.
"Awesome," Axel grins, but as he sees the look in his dad's eyes, it fades, as he walks past the group in silence, and enters the palace.
~
Staggering through the desert, and relying on sound alone, Ten's attention was brought to a familiar snapping of a camera. Watching the carnage unfold, and taking pictures, was Mr Camera. "Simms, you bastard!" he bellowed.
"Take it easy with the language, choir boy, I-" Simms calls out, his words muffled as Reardon tackles him to the ground, and smashes his glass lens. Pressing the button on the side of his mask, Camera activates his flash mode. "Smile!" he laughs, as he fires a series of bright flashes Reardon's way, before realising his fatal error: Philip Reardon, was blind. "Oh," he gasps, as he's swiftly knocked out.
====Ra's' Palace====
"Justice League. Can you hear me?" a deep voice calls out telepathically.
"Loud and clear, J'onn, good to have you back with us," Clark replies. "I'm engaging Zod, trying to draw him away from the control room. The device they're building is a Phantom Drive, which, if it reaches full power, can and will generate a wormhole that will suck everyone into the Phantom Zone."
"Understood," Cyborg replied. "Me and Miracle are heading to the server room now, see if we can't disable it."
"I'll help draw Zod away," Diana adds, as she soars into the air. "Bruce?"
"I've got to find Ra's," Batman said, as he attaches a sword to his belt. "He's the only person who might stop this madness."
"You sure, Bats?" Barry asks, as he steals The Fiddler's violin. "I reckon Bane's the closest thing we have to a lynchpin."
"Positive."
"Oh for- This isn't about Walker, is it?" Hal calls out, as he forms a green proton pack with his ring, and sucks up Gentleman Ghost.
...
"Keep this channel open, I'll let you know if the situation changes," Bruce murmurs, as he walks up a set of stone steps, opens a door, and is pulled through a wall by a large hand.
"We've come full circle, have we not?" Bane snarls, as he turns a dial on his wrist. "You, me, and a choice. Do you stop Ra's? Or do you stop the Society? Last time you couldn't do either."
He rips a chunk out of the wall, and hurls it at Bruce, who slides under it.
"Tell me. Was it compassion, Batman? Guilt? I bet it was. You can't help but take in strays, to fuel your self destructive quest, and here you are, about to implode," Bane gloats, as he throws several fast, hard punches.
"What are you talking about?" Batman snaps back.
"There aren't many who can freely walk into your Batcave, now are there?" Bane smirks, as he picks Bruce up, and throws him against a wall. He reaches for the venom tube on the back of his neck, but is thrown backwards before he can cut it. "You know I planned to kill the Misfits," he continues. "Keep them distracted at a bare minimum, torment them, anything to avoid their interference... And then, an invisible assailant- invisible! lay siege to your very own GCPD. Imagine my surprise when Tetch told me that that man... was none other than Drury Walker?"
"You're lying!" Batman retorts, as his slams a batarang into Bane's arm.
"No! When I heard the news, I called him, told him of my plan, that only one thing remained, to tune the Batcave's teleporter to Kuttler's network. And he agreed. All it took... was the right persuasion."
"Ra's... You offered him Ra's," Bruce gasped, as he swung his body around Bane's arm, and kicked him in the face, turning to the stairwell.
In turn, Bane grabbed his right leg, and tugged him backwards.
"Goddammit!" he yells, as he punches Bane's arm. "Ra's will kill him!"
"Let him! Forget about Walker. Forget about Ra's. And face *me,*" Bane exclaimed angrily, as Batman finally freed himself from his grip. Panting for breath, he reaches for his grapnel gun, and aims it at the balcony above. "Do you know what you are, Bane? You're a college football star, you never grew up, you never changed. You're just stuck reliving that one match you won. The one goal you scored. The one time you broke me. And you're not worth it," he sighed, as he scaled the stairwell.
"Face me!" Bane screamed back.
"No," Batman muttered, as he approached the League of Assassins' Archives.
Bane paused, lost for a second, and then he yelled back "I sent Tommy Elliot, Batman! I sent Hush after Selina Kyle! Now fight me!"
As Bruce places his hand on the doorknob, he turns around. "No. You didn't."
"Was it worth it, Ra's?" Bruce calls out. Gaige lies sprawled on the floor, blood dribbling from his mouth, his body slowly rising and falling from each slow breath he takes.
"Yes," he said. "After all, Detective, it brought me you. "Don't you see, the world is changing, it's finally moving forward, and I want you by my side, by my daughter's side when it does." He turned around, and Batman could finally see the damage Gaige had wrought. His face was scarred with three deep marks, like a tiger's claw. His right arm hung loosely, barely in its' socket, and his left eye was white. Colourless.
"This was all for you, Detective. All so that you might follow my example, and finally, finally take command of the League of Assassins."
"You maniac," Batman muttered, aghast. "You genocidal, tyrannical maniac. Look at the bloodshed, look at the people, your people, that have died today, because of Arkham City."
"Progress always has a cost, Detective," Ra's mused. "The offer stands. Bane could never lead, he's but a thug. Brutal. Inelegant. My daughters, alone, are unsuitable. But with you- The perfect heir. The perfect specimen. Think of the difference we could make... All that's left, is to-" he trails off, as he looks at the open doorway. Standing, gun in hand, is Drury Walker.
"Drury? What are you-" Batman begins, but he's cut off as a stream of webbing sticks him and Ra's to the ground.
"So I fixed the cocoon gun. Thought you'd like to know," Walker murmurs, as he walks towards Ra's, and kneels softly beside him.
"Don't do this-" Bruce urges, as he takes a knife from his belt, and begins whittling away the netting.
"No!" Moth yells back. "I'm done playing second fiddle to you and "your" rogues. This is my story, Bats, mine! And you aren't taking that from me. Miranda's dead, her death won't just be a footnote in the story of the Batman," he says coldly, as he places a cold hand on Ra's face.
"You ever heard of Quakemaster? How about Geomancer? Nah, I wouldn't expect you to. But when it comes to C-Listers I'm something of a expert," Drury says, as he reaches into his bag, and lifts out a pair of gloves taken from the GCPD. "I want you to feel the pain, all the pain of everyone you hurt... Everyone you *killed* when you dropped a city on them. Their bones breaking, fracturing, twisting out their skin. Their ribcages collapsing, the dust suffocating, clogging up their lungs. Course, I don't have the time to mine under *your* city. To build my *own* bomb... Good thing, I don't need to."
Just as Batman frees himself from the cocoon, a harpoon flies through the air, and lodges itself in his knee, a barely conscious Gaige nodding to Walker. The look he gives says everything he needed to hear. 'For her,'
Drury places the gloves on Ra's chest, he can't move, he can't fight back, the cocoon gun has make sure of that, and pushes down, vibrations shaking through his body, his bone's crushed, he struggles to speak. And when he thinks he's suffered enough, Drury picks up a blade, Ra's sword- and rams it through his chest. Just like he did her.
Looks to be abandoned or little used. This was taken on the evening of August 1, 2010 as part of the Alberta Wooden Grain Elevator Survey 2010.
GBRf 66758 passes through a bright dapply Ferriby with the empties from Dairycoates Tilcon to Rylstone.
Ferriby 13 Nov 2020
Bright and Dapply
As A419 crawls through the tiny Hamlet of Dapp and past the once rail served elevator, I took a moment to look around at the small community to think about what the railroad and the elevator once meant. The ever changing and modernizing world we live in is slowly eliminating these once vibrant towns.
Disks of textured & plain brass sheet, domed on a dapping block, then torched for a lucious weathered patina. Painted & powdered a stamped piece of clay, then riveted all the pieces together with GF wire. So much fun! While I'm a big fan of these half-loop earwires, my next goal is to work on custom earwires that compliment the design.
I was taking a rest outside a tobacco and incidentals store. This man comes stumbling out, throws open his arms and says, "Go ahead, take my picture." He complained about photographers that "snuck" photos of him. I told him I wouldn't do that without his OK. Then he struck a number of poses. This is the shot I grabbed before he struck another one.
He sat down next to me . . . I thought, "Here comes the " mordita". He intoduced himself as, "Jaylon." Sure enough, he told me this story. He didn't have enough money for a "Dew." "Mountain Dew" to the un-initiated, a popular caffeine loaded US soft drink.
"Man, for 25-cents, I can get one. For 75-cents I can get two." I asked him, if I bought 2 would he give me one. "Yeah man, we can drink them together."
Then I told him, I was "cool" and then gave him $1. He went in, bought 2 Dews came out and offered me one again. I assured him I was "cool." Fist-bumped and dapped and off we went our separate ways.
I wouldn't have taken one even if I was thirsty. For him, 2 Dews, was likely the high-spot of his day. But my unofficial poll over the years was confirmed, once again, of the generous spirit resident in the souls of those who have little.
This was quite a difficult shot - "come and look" said the owner of Casa Calateas (nr Cahuita, Costa Rica) and showed me this lovely Red-capped Manakin. " Here is my little friend".
The Manakin was perched on a branch under the canopy of leaves, in very low light, watching every move we made.
i made a short video - you can see it here - youtu.be/MeRxkHtMCW4
· ▸ Daemon Tattoo single purchase is available in:
ㅤㅤ• Fresh version
ㅤㅤ• Faded version
ㅤㅤ• Worn version
· ▸ Baked On Mesh
· ▸ Daemon Tattoo is fitted for:
ㅤㅤ• Lelutka EvoX
· ▸ Copy
· ▸ No Modify
· ▸ No Transfer
ㅤㅤｓｈｏｐ ｔｈｉｓ ａｔ ｅｑｕａｌ１０ 苛 尉 ズ ょ ド
ㅤㅤ
▸ Ｊｏｉｎ ｕｓ ｏｎ Ｐｒｉｍｆｅｅｄ
ㅤㅤ
▸ Ｊｏｉｎ ｕｓ ｏｎ Ｆａｃｅｂｏｏｋ
ㅤㅤ
▸ Ｊｏｉｎ ｕｓ ｏｎ Ｉｎｓｔａｇｒａｍ
ㅤㅤ
▸ Ｊｏｉｎ ｕｓ ｏｎ Ｙｏｕｔｕｂｅ
ㅤㅤ
▸ Main Sim
ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ
Figure
Songye
Les Songye sont un peuple d’Afrique Centrale présent dans le sud-est de la République Démocratique du Congo, près de la rivière Lomami.
République Démocratique du Congo
Fin du 19è siècle - début du 20è siècle
Bois pigments, fibres végétales et perles de verre
Collection particulière
Oeuvre présentée dans l'exposition "Désir d'Humanité. Les univers de Barthelemy Toguo, musée du quai Branly - Jacques Chirac, Paris car ce type de statue a été une source d'inspiration pour Barthélemy Toguo
www.quaibranly.fr/fr/expositions-evenements/au-musee/expo...
Carte blanche à la Fondation Dapper: l’artiste camerounais Barthélémy Toguo. Un art engagé et sensible qui explore les dysfonctionnements du monde actuel pour mieux les dénoncer en puisant, entre autres, dans les cultures de l’Afrique. Extrait du site de l'exposition
circe 2000
Inspired by Japanese textiles, I made this bowl amidst my early experiments in doming polymer clay. I had already adapted a metal worker's dapping block to dome small cane slices. Here I scaled that technique up by using bowls I'd made with polymer clay to extend the range of my store-bought metal dapping block (this bowl here is about five or six inches in diameter). My 'dapping bowls' were made from sample packages of FIMO's coloured translucents, saved from goodie bags given out to participants at one of the Ravensdale events. As a result, my series of nesting bowls is super colourful. They range in size from about two inches in diameter to about ten. To build the set, I started by filling the largest hole in my dapping block with clay, then baking it. Once I had that solid half-sphere, I used it as a mold to build my smallest bowl, baked it, then used that first bowl as the form to build the next one, and so on. With their gradually increasing scale and rainbow colours, when nested together, they look a lot like a toddler's play toy.
The Woven Bowl started as individual slices and sheets that were burnished together into a single flat veneer using my rag paper and burnishing card. The left side was a composite sheet of rectangular cane slices, the right side was a blue-to-black blend in metallic clay. The fully burnished veneer was laid on top of a backing layer of black clay for added thickness, then cut into a circle using a cardboard template. This composite disc was then turned into a bowl by forming it through a series of successively smaller bowls, gently raising the form from a flat sheet into a rounder dome with each bowl. I've always liked the idea of being able to do all the veneer work flat, which is much easier, and then, once the veneer is burnished smooth and sound, create the dome form in a secondary stage.
Whenever I am doming polymer clay sheets, whether using a jeweller's dapping block, or homemade Fisher-Price-esque dapping bowls at a larger scale, I insist that Tracy call me "Dapper Dan." She refuses.
Guarding his mate as she lays eggs in the pond. Despite many many photos, I still haven't managed a good shot of the dapping (egg-laying) female - still trying
Magrath is a town in Cardston County, Alberta, Canada. Its population was 2,217 in 2011. Magrath is located near the Canadian Rockies and is 32 km (20 mi) south of Lethbridge and 242 km (150 mi) south of Calgary. There are three remaining grain elevators at Magrath. The green one in the foreground, the yellow one with a red annex on the right in the background, and the buffalo bin in the background to the left, still stand. This was a drive-by shot taken on 28 August 2014, the last day of a 3-day trip with friends. Cathy and Terry, to Waterton Lakes National Park and then further east.
“The Buffalo Slope was a design created by the Alberta Wheat Pool using precast concrete. Somewhat of an experiment in design and materials by the Wheat Pool, only a few of this type were built in the late 1970s. These elevators were capable of holding around 170,000 bushels of grain. It wasn't the design of this elevator so much as the timing which resulted in such small numbers being built. Railway spur lines were being closed and along with them, small town elevators. Grain companies were beginning to realize the necessity of concentrating their resources, doing away with small elevators and building much larger inland terminals, spaced much further apart than were wooden elevators of yore. It simply wasn't a good time to be building smaller elevators.”
www.waymarking.com/waymarks/WMKTKT_Alberta_Wheat_Pool_Buf...
“Alberta’s first grain elevator was built in 1895, by Brackman-Ker Milling Co. at Strathcona. The last traditional wooden elevators were erected 90 years later, by Alberta Wheat Pool in 1985 at Willingdon and Dapp. Those intervening years of the twentieth century saw ups and downs. Rail lines rapidly expanded, but then miles of branch lines were ripped up. Grain elevator companies came and went. There were lean years and years of plenty in the harvest and in prices realized on the grain markets. The story of grain elevators in Alberta follows these trends, as they progressed from novelty to ubiquitous landmark, to vanishing symbol.
Progress in grain elevator construction in Alberta was slow at the beginning of the twentieth century. In 1906, the province still had only a total of 43 elevators. This figure had jumped to 109 by the season of 1908, and to 229 by the end of 1909. By 1912 Alberta boasted a total of 279 elevators. These were operated by seventy-two grain companies, individuals or organisations. The number of country elevators in Alberta reached an all time high in 1934 at 1,781.”
Statue lefem à l'effigie d'une princesse, njuindem
Culture Bangoua, groupe des Bamilékés.
Cameroun,
région : Grassfields
Bois et pigments
H: 85 cm
Collectée en 1897-1898 par Gustav Conrau puis rapportée en Europe en 1899.
Anciennes collections du Musem für Völkerkunde de Berlin (avant 1926), d'Arthur Speyer, de Charles Ratton, d'Helena Rubinstein et de Harry A.
Archives du musée Dapper
C'est cette sculpture qu'a utilisée Man Ray dans sa célèbre photographie : Reine Bangwa et modèle, en 1935
vesamya-martinique.tumblr.com/post/128721141193/man-ray-r...
Oeuvre exposée au musée Dapper, Paris
Die besondere Situation des Hotels geht auf einen Grenzstreit zwischen Frankreich und der Schweiz zurück – den Disput um das Dappental. Frankreich unter Napoléon Bonaparte annektierte 1805 das nahe gelegene Dappental, um eine militärstrategische Strasse zwischen Frankreich und Savoyen errichten zu lassen. 1815 sprach der Wiener Kongress das Tal wieder der Schweiz zu. Frankreich bemühte sich in der Folge weiterhin, das Territorium zu erwerben, was die Schweiz jedoch während Jahrzehnten ablehnte. 1861 liess Napoléon III Truppen ins Gebiet einmarschieren, und Frankreich schlug einen Tausch vor: Das Vallée des Dappes soll gegen ein Gebiet gleicher Fläche am Abhang des Noirmont getauscht werden. Die beiden Staaten unterzeichneten das Abkommen im Dezember 1862, und am 20. Februar 1863 trat es in Kraft. Das Grundstück des heutigen Hotels und seine Umgebung lagen ursprünglich vollständig auf französischem Territorium – mit Inkrafttreten des Vertrags wurden jedoch mehrere Gebäude durch die neue Grenze geteilt. Das Abkommen gewährte den Bewohnern der getauschten Gebiete alle ihre bisherigen Rechte am Grundbesitz, und sie konnten auch die Staatsbürgerschaft frei wählen.
Das Haus liegt auf dem schmalen Streifen Land zwischen der französischen Route de la Frontière und der Schweizer Route de France. Die Grenze verläuft parallel zu den beiden Strassen und durch das dazwischen liegende Gebäude. Das Hotel kann von beiden Strassen und somit beiden Staaten her betreten werden. Auf französischer Seite trägt es den Namen Arbez und über dem Schweizer Eingang die Bezeichnung Hôtel Franco-Suisse. Mehrere kleine amtliche Grenzmarkierungen an den Fassaden der verschiedenen Gebäudeteile und ein grosser Grenzstein lassen den Grenzverlauf erkennen:
Im Hotel (dem ältesten Gebäudeteil der Anlage) geht die Grenze durch den Speisesaal, den Flur und die Küche. Im Speisesaal liegt der kleinere, abtrennbare Teil (ehemals Laden) in der Schweiz. Die beiden Treppen in die oberen Stockwerke beginnen in Frankreich und enden in der Schweiz. Der Schweizer Teil des Gebäudes hat die Adresse Route de France 61.
Die später gebaute Brasserie mit der Bar liegt vollständig in Frankreich. Die Grenze verläuft im Freien vor dem Eingang der Schweizer Seite. Die Grenzsymbole über der Bar haben nur dekorativen Charakter.
Die Zimmer Nr. 6 und 9 liegen vollständig in Frankreich. Gelegentlich wird behauptet, der Kopfteil der Betten liege in der Schweiz.
Das Wandgemälde an der Hotelfassade befindet sich in der Schweiz, sein linker Rand bildet die Grenze. Es ist eine Kopie von Paul Cézannes Les Joueurs de cartes.
Im Zimmer Nr. 12 (von aussen gesehen über dem Wandgemälde) sind die Betten in der Schweiz und das Bad in Frankreich. Die Grenze verläuft zwischen den beiden Fenstern.
Der Hotel-Annex (Schweizer Adresse Route de France 57) liegt fast vollständig in der Schweiz. Wenige Zentimeter der Rückwand gehören zu Frankreich. Dieses Gebäude wurde erst nach der Grenzkorrektur gebaut und in seiner Anfangszeit an die Gendarmerie vermietet.
Wikipedia