Fans lined the streets to bid farewell to the 'French Elvis'
Hundreds of thousands of people lined the streets of Paris on Saturday to bid farewell to the French rock star Johnny Hallyday, who died this week at the age of 74 after a battle with lung cancer.
His coffin was driven in a cortege down the Champs-Elysees followed by hundreds of leather-clad bikers.
President Emmanuel Macron paid tribute to the singer in a eulogy at the Madeleine church.
Paris was brought to a standstill by the ceremony, which was broadcast live.
As the cortege carrying his coffin left the funeral home in the Paris suburb of Nanterre, some 700 bikers took to the Champs-Elysees.
Image copyrightAFPImage captionPeople gathered on Place de la Concorde to pay a "popular tribute" to HallydayImage copyrightREUTERSImage captionFans ride their bikes down the Champs-Elysees as part of the tributeImage copyrightEPAImage captionLarge crowds gathered to pay their respects outside the Madeleine church in Paris
Hallyday's white coffin was driven slowly from the Arc de Triomphe along the famous avenue as emotional fans cheered and wept.
During the service, members of his band performed instrumental versions of his songs outside at the Madeleine church as the crowds sang along.
Image copyrightGETTY IMAGESImage captionMembers of Hallyday's band and other musicians performed as part of the ceremonyImage copyrightGETTY IMAGESImage captionHallyday's white coffin leaves the church with a picture of the singer on display at the entrance
Fans began to gather in the city overnight in anticipation of the country's "national homage" to the singer as giant screens were erected to show footage of the man known as the "French Elvis".
National television and radio have put out a stream of special programmes since his death on Wednesday, with Hallyday's best-known songs being played along with recordings of tributes from friends and fans.
Mr Macron approved Saturday's ceremony along with Hallyday's widow Laeticia amid a popular clamour for a national homage.
The French president said the singer had touched everyone's lives: "In each of your lives there have been moments where one of his songs translated what you had in your heart, what we have in our hearts.
"A love story, a loss, a moment of defiance, the birth of a child, pain - in his voice, in his songs, in his face."
As Mr Macron addressed the large crowd gathered at the church, many of whom were in tears, they chanted: "Johnny, Johnny, Johnny Hallyday."
Image copyrightREUTERSImage captionMany of those gathered outside the church became emotional during the tributesImage copyrightGETTY IMAGESImage captionFans had earlier gathered outside the star's home in Marnes-la-Coquette, west of Paris
Some of the musician's fans have demanded that a monument be built in recognition of his achievements.
Others have expressed disappointment at news that Hallyday is likely to be buried on the French Caribbean island of St Barts, where he had his home.
One fan, Francois Le Lay, told AFP news agency: "We would have preferred if he was buried in Paris, but if Johnny wanted that, we will respect it.
"My wife and I will put the money aside that we would have spent going to his concerts so we can fly to Saint Barts one day."
On Friday, the Eiffel Tower was lit up with the words "Merci Johnny".
At the famous L'Olympia music venue in Paris where Hallyday once enjoyed a three-week residency to mark 40 years in show business, the singer's name was displayed as a tribute.
Image copyrightEPAImage captionThe Eiffel Tower displays the message "Merci Johnny" (Thank you Johnny)Image copyrightGETTY IMAGESImage captionL'Olympia, one of Paris's oldest surviving music halls, pays tribute
The star, whose real name was Jean-Philippe Smet, sold more than 110 million records and starred in a number of films, including one directed by Jean-Luc Godard.
He once performed before a million people in a mobile musical cavalcade down the Champs-Elysees.
However despite 6,000 fans chartering flights from Paris to see him play Las Vegas in 1996, he failed to crack the American or any other English-speaking market.
The singer, who was once condemned as the rock 'n' roll "corrupter of youth", was often referred to as "the French Elvis" by critics.
Lisa Campbell (centre) with residents of the Oinofyta camp
When Lisa Campbell arrived in Greece in November 2015 to help care for the flood of refugees she planned on staying for just a few weeks. She ended up running a refugee camp - until it was suddenly closed last month. What made an American Mormon grandmother of six leave behind her family and her job to deal with the chaos of Greece's refugee crisis?
Like most people in the US, I hadn't been aware of the scale of the refugee disaster until the pictures of three-year-old Alan Kurdi washed up on a beach started being shown on US news in 2015.
But it wasn't until I actually got here and saw for myself the piles of life jackets and the boats stacked on the beach that the magnitude of it really hit me.
I had taken a leave of absence from my job and planned to be in Greece for 45 days. My assumption was that I would find people who were housed, fed, and had basic services available.
That first morning on the island of Lesbos, I went out on my balcony and I could see nine boats coming across from Turkey already. You hear people say that the boats are overloaded, but to see 50 people get off of a boat that would be full with 10 is overwhelming. I can't tell you how many times people would get off the boat and literally kiss the ground. That grabs you.
Find out more
Lisa Campbell was talking to iPM on BBC Radio 4. Listen again on the iPM podcast.
It was hard to wrap my head around what I was seeing. I was horrified at the stories that I heard. I was also happy to be able to help, happy to see that these children, once you got them into some dry clothes, were still looking for the first toy they could find.
There's probably not an emotion that I didn't experience, standing there day after day on the shore, watching the boats come in. And that's how my journey in Greece started.
When I got to the refugee camp in Oinofyta, on the mainland north of Athens, there was nothing there - just tents and army catering. I had no refugee experience, but I'm a do-er. After Hurricane Katrina, I helped start a non-profit called Do Your Part. We had worked in disaster zones before, but this was our first refugee crisis. I just started doing. I organised, planned, and built.
After I had been here for about a month, a donor in the US said he would sponsor me to be here for as long as I needed. So, I called my husband and said, "I want to quit my job and stay in Greece."
Soon after, in June last year, I took over as manager of the Oinofyta camp. I was a little fearful to begin with, but I knew in my heart it was the right thing to do. These guys needed someone to care, to fight, and to advocate for them.
I ended up running the camp for 18 months, until the Greek government shut it down a month ago.
From my perspective, this work is like being a mother. I've raised four children and had several foster children and the job that I do here, even though it involves things like construction and installing electrical equipment, in reality, it's pretty much being a mom.
I'm not a saint. I've learned that love is a choice. For me, some of the more poignant moments have involved people that I don't necessarily really like. When they were informed that the camp was closing, these people came to me and said things like: "You've been like a mother to me, I don't know what I'm going to do without you." And I realised that I had met my goal - which was to take care of them and show them that they were loved. That they're cared about, not forgotten.
When the camp was shutting down, we were told that we'd have time to get our stuff out. We had about a quarter of a million Euros worth of property in the camp. Then, the Greek government, in less than 24 hours, gave me three hours to get it all out.
When that happened, I posted on Facebook: "I'm done. They win, and everybody else loses." That was probably one of my worst nights. How do you fight bureaucracy like that - bureaucracy that makes absolutely no sense?
The next day I woke up to a phone full of messages saying, "What do you need me to do? I will come help." And I thought, "OK, I can do this. We, together, can do this."
When we were allowed to get our things, we were also informed that there was a possibility the camp would be reopening. They have not said when, and every time I ask, I get told: "When they run out of spaces in other camps." It's as plainly vague as you can be.
I know that all of the Greek islands are overcrowded. I have a camp that within three or four days could serve 500 people. Why aren't the refugees here?
The residents of our camp felt like "refugee" had become a dirty word. But they're refugees because they want the same things in life that you and I want. We had engineers, lawyers, teachers, musicians, artists, police officers - people from all walks of life. They were just like you and me.
I've been able to introduce many of the Greek people here to the refugees. That's the only way that we're ever going to get over the fear of refugees. I've forged some tremendous relationships that allow me to help people in ways that the large organisations just can't, because they don't have the trust.
The Greek people have opened their hearts in so many ways, but their government and the large NGOs are clueless. We had a situation last winter where we had no drinking water because the pipes were frozen. It was on a Sunday. I notified the organisation who were supposed to be in charge, and the soonest, the absolute soonest that they could get us any water in the camp was Tuesday.
I said: "You're telling me I have to make people wait 48 hours before they can have drinking water? What are we supposed to do?"
I called a local restaurateur I knew and said we needed water. In two hours, I had a truck come in. I've met incredible people here who help me fight for what's right - not just the refugees, but the Greeks too.
Most of us are hardwired to want to provide for ourselves. When your life is spent getting handouts from everyone all day, you lose your dignity. I had this wild idea that it would be great to start a business, sewing bags from leftover tent material. I tell you, those workers were the happiest people in camp because they had a purpose other than sitting there waiting for their asylum interview.
They still have that purpose today. We currently employ 18 residents. Last month, I signed the lease on a new building for Oinofyta Wares and they will be moving to the nearby community of Dilesi. We have companies and purchasers in America who want to buy these in bulk now. We are one meeting away from it being registered as a Greek business, and these guys will own it.
Image captionLisa Campbell hugs Mustafa, a young resident of the camp, as he prepares to leave
My father was a naval officer and my husband was in the US Coast Guard, so every two years, our family moved. Part of my life has been learning to say goodbye, which has been one of the harder things here at the camp: the constant rotation of volunteers and residents.
The hardest goodbye was to four-year-old Mustafa. He was here with his mother, sister and little brother, waiting to reunite with his father and older brother in Sweden. I knew them for about 16 months, and I grew to absolutely love that little boy. He would sit in my office and say we were both the camp managers. He was a huge personality in a little teeny body.
I was so happy for them when they got their family reunification, and so sad because I knew that the likelihood of me being able to ever see them again was pretty slim.
My own kids are all asking the same question now: "Mom, when are you coming home?"
I don't know. My volunteer visa expires 22 December, so maybe that's when I come home - because the Greek government won't let me stay any more.
I hope that my legacy here is that the people that I have touched, the refugees or the Greek people, will always remember that I cared about them. That they were special and important. That they were worthy of that care.
My husband asks me: "What are you going to do when you go home? You've been the mother to more than 2,000 people that have come through this camp."
I'm going to stand as a witness. I'm going to talk about what has happened here. I'm going to try to make people understand that we are all human beings.
Image copyrightCARSTEN EGEVANGImage captionThe researchers waded into shallow, icy waters to fit trackers to the narwhals
They raise questions about how the enigmatic "unicorns of the sea" will cope with increasing human intrusion on their Arctic habitat.
Historically, narwhals have not come into contact with much human disturbance, because they live mainly hidden among Arctic sea ice. But in recent decades, as the ice has declined, this is changing.
"Shipping and exploration for oil and gas is moving into the narwhals' world," said lead researcher Dr Terrie Williams, from the University of California, Santa Cruz.
Having developed technology to study the physiology of dolphins at her home institute, she explained that her collaborator on this study - Dr Mads Peter Heide-Jorgensen, from the Greenland Institute of Natural Resources - contacted her to see if her tags could be used on wild narwhals.
"His research allowed him to work with hunters; instead of the animals being killed, he releases them with satellite tags," Dr Williams explained. "So this was an incredible opportunity to look at the biology of a deep-diving whale."
The tags she developed incorporate a heart monitor with depth and acceleration measurement, as well as a satellite tracking device.
"We're riding the back of a narwhal for days with this technology and it's just astounding to me," she told BBC News.
Image copyrightM P HEIDE JORGENSENImage captionThe tags attach with a suction cup to the whales' backs and in-built satellite trackers allow them to be found when they fall off
Freeze but flee
The researchers worked with the hunters to find narwhals already entangled in nets. They released each animal, attaching a tag to its back with a suction cup, before pushing it into the deep water of the East Greenland fjords.
"The very first heart rate measurement was - as you would imagine fairly high," recalled Dr Williams. "When the animals were just sitting there, it was about 60 beats per minute - about the same as our resting heart rate.
"But the moment those animals took off, their heart rate immediately plunged down to three or four heart beats per minute - 15 to 20 seconds between each beat."
Image copyrightT WILLIAMSImage captionDr Williams tested her heart monitoring and tracking tags on dolphins before using them to study wild narwhals in Greenland
At first, Dr Williams and her colleagues thought the animals might be showing a proverbial "rabbit in the headlights" response - by freezing and waiting for the threat to pass.
"But when we looked, they were swimming just as fast as they ever do," said Dr Williams. "So you have these two opposite things happening at exactly the same time, heart rate is really low, and that is superimposed on an exercise response. It was crazy."
This reduction in heart rate, the scientists suggest, could help explain some whale strandings. If animals are moving quickly to escape a threat, but their heart rate is very low, this could deprive their brain of oxygen and leave them disorientated.
Long periods of this low blood flow and reduced oxygen supply to the brain might even cause permanent damage.
"I think we've identified a real physiological challenge here and we're going to pursue the details of that to see if we can figure out what's going on," Dr Williams said.
For narwhals and other Arctic marine mammals, the discovery highlights some worrying implications of shipping and mineral exploration moving into increasingly ice-free Arctic seas.
"When you think of the escape response and new kinds of threats from ships and other noise, you really have to move in a cautious way," Dr Williams added. "We may have to safeguard certain areas, if we want to have the unicorns of the sea still living."
High-profile streamers are complaining about the way Twitch enforces its guidelines
Scroll through the In Real Life (IRL) section of streaming site Twitch and you could be forgiven for thinking, now and then, that you have landed on a camgirl site.
Scattered among the artists, cooks and professional eaters are a growing band of young women wearing revealing clothing while they game. Some go further and entertain fans by dancing or by doing a series of suggestive exercises, like squats, to tempt people to subscribe to their channel or to hand over Twitch's micro-currency - bits.
Dubbed "booby streamers" these young women have been a feature of Twitch for years but their numbers have grown significantly over the last few months, prompting a wave of complaints.
On social media many parents have posted messages about what their younger children are seeing when they visit the site, expressing alarm at how much of a screen supposedly showing in-game action is focused on a woman's body.
In recent weeks, high-profile streamers have complained about Twitch's tolerance of these women and for doing a "poor job" of policing the growing amount of sexual content on the site.
The complaints have prompted a crackdown on women streamers who sell sexual services via their Twitch bio. Some have been suspended or banned for a few days and been made to purge links to places such as Patreon where explicit pictures and shows could be bought.
Some say this is not enough. The "overtly sexual" behaviour on display breaks rules governing what Twitch has said is acceptable.
"Given the way that the rules are worded, these streamers should not be on the site," Steven Bonnell aka Destiny told the BBC.
Image copyrightGETTY IMAGESImage captionThe IRL section started as a place to show gamers' offline activities
Grey area
Mr Bonnell is one of a small number of streamers with large, dedicated audiences that have quizzed Twitch about why it is not enforcing the letters of its laws - specifically its community guidelines.
These guidelines govern what is permissible on Twitch and they explicitly prohibit "nudity and conduct involving overtly sexual behaviour and/or attire" and the selling of "sexual services".
"It's pretty clear that there are some streamers that step over the line," said Mr Bonnell, "they wear provocative clothing and act provocatively."
Originally, said Mr Bonnell, the IRL section was for streamers who were recording events, such as attending a convention, that did not involve them playing a video game.
"IRL is taking on a culture of its own," he said. "It's become much more sexualised."
What is Twitch?
Twitch is a live, video-streaming service focussed on broadcasting people playing computer games.
Recent estimates suggest it has 15 million daily active users and more than 2.2 million people use it to stream their gaming sessions. It has now broadened the content it shows and many artists, board gamers, role-players and others use it to show what they are up to.
Twitch grew out of Justin.tv which was set up as a way for people to broadcast video streams of their lives.
Twitch was bought by Amazon in 2014 for $970m (£723m).
Streamer Amouranth said the slew of complaints and comment on social media had led Twitch to step up its enforcement efforts. It has handed out short-term suspensions to streamers reported to be breaking the guidelines.
"With the recent controversy in IRL a lot of things have come under increased scrutiny, hence some streamers finding themselves suddenly afoul of ToS," she told the BBC.
"Twitch certainly has the right to enforce their rules," said Amouranth, adding that it was a "notable grey-area" before the complaints and calls for action from streamers.
Now, she said, many would welcome more clarity on what is and is not permitted on Twitch. Without that, she said, the reason someone had been suspended can be hard to understand.
Image captionTwitch lets people watch others play popular video games
Content crash
Her comments were echoed by streamer Anne Munition who said Twitch needed to be more explicit about what counted as acceptable behaviour in many different categories, not just those involving "sexual streamers".
"The community has a hard time agreeing on what exactly that means," she said, adding: "I don't think it's unreasonable to want clarity on what Twitch considers acceptable content."
The lack of clarity was having an effect on all streamers, said Ms Munition, and could lead to harassment and abuse from fans.
A spokesman for Twitch said it did not comment on individual bans nor on whether it had been more active in enforcing its rules of conduct.
He said: "We give our community freedom to express themselves as long as they adhere to our community guidelines."
He added: "If inappropriate behaviour is observed, we encourage viewers to report it since our moderation team reviews all cases."
Mr Bonnell said commercial considerations may eventually determine whether Twitch clarifies what the site is for. Advertisers who see their content running against the controversial streams may soon start to object, he said.
"I do not think we are anywhere near that point yet," he said, "It's going to come down to whether the big advertisers are influenced. If that happens, then Twitch will act."