I turned the corner and parked behind the hotel
[where Bowie was staying]. Maybe I'd miss Sygma's leftovers or maybe Bowie
would indeed use the back door. While I pondered that, I spotted a snappy
dresser, looking nothing like Bowie, sneaking out of the hotel and getting into
a taxi that was clearly waiting for him. I was also lucky, because the driver
was an old guy, soon to retire. He didn't zigzag and I had no trouble following
him.

Suddenly, they stopped and out got Bowie. I
also stopped, left all four indicators flashing, jumped out and started
snapping photos. I snapped and snapped. After all, he was no Marlon Brando. If
he charged at me, I could handle him. I followed him all the way to the
entrance to a Japanese restaurant. I even followed him in.

From Jadran Lazić’s book 50 Years of
Photography, Vol. 1, Zagreb 2021, p. 137.