This one was hidden behind a locked gate, obscured by iron bars, making it near impossible to get a good shot. I was angling my camera, kneeling and shifting and hemming and hawing, about to give up when the door serendipitously opened and one of the apartment's residents stepped out. People tend to react in one of two ways when I ask if I can photograph their house numbers: with frank suspicion or with a sort of surprised flattery. This neighbor was one of the second category, and graciously offered to open the gate nice and wide so I could get my #267. I thanked her, slipped my lens cap back on, and set off into the sunny afternoon.