The whole location in Nice, France, stank of dog shit. Tortoises were everywhere, cooking in the sun like boil-in-a-bag crustaceans, and we found another room that was just like something Miss Faversham would have lived in. It was filled with rotting ballerinas' dresses and rag dolls with maggots in. The elderly lady who owned the joint came down the spiral staircase, like Gloria Swanson in "Sunset Boulevard". It was a surreal day, mainly for seeing The Cure in daylight.