[B[Marseille!
May 18th, 2006
Oh, Oh! What a fantastic holiday weve had in the South of France. Most romantic. Quaint everything, sun bathing on the rocks, cheese and wine picnics by the sea, mad, ancient gastronomic establishments in Avignon serving up dinner by the Palace of the popes during the Middle Ages. His parents holiday home where his ex-girlfriend jumped in naked, drunk, yelling about politics and cowardice, being shot with an imitation kalishnikov in a latex outfit, with the Vieux Port behind me on a Saturday football night. Policemen right below not giving a shit. Having a blonde, gay, pretty boy call the hotel room past midnight to tell us the fax handnt gone through.
Then on the day we were supposed to leave, I left the room key to the hotel room in Le Corbusiers Unite dHabitation. The landlady (a most fit, glam -in a southern French way sort of woman) insisted on climbing onto the balcony of the room through the other balcony. She had one leg over the low wall proclaiming that she was a regular sky-diver, no fear, while a bunch of other people pulled her back in. They managed to break the lock, eventually.
We tried to drive at 180 down the highway to make it in time for our flight at Nice -one of Frances Los Angeles along the Riveria, scraping to be glam - totally without charm- okay, Im being unfair, but the charms all ruined under the pretense of glamour, excess wealth, and all the crap things about the movie industry I loathe. Partly because Im not part of the club, partly because well huh. Whats so nice about fake.
We missed our flight, stayed in a crap air-port hotel, spent about a thousand five hundred euros on fixing the mistake and the excess baggage, and ended the trip with a most eventful fuck where blood splashed all about and Richard spent hours after worrying about whether or not it was from him or me. Him, very, very bad. Me, just my period. Only my periods a bit weird because of the birth control Im using. But its all very boring really, that.
Apart from the last minute stress. I would say, if you knew how to speak the language, the Marseille and the area around it, is really cool. Its the Mediterrenean. I had a real Mediterrenean holiday with a real boyfriend, and had many evening watching the sun set, ice-cream in hand, thinking. My God. The world is alive outside Sinagapore, in the Summer.
And that is all I have to say for now. Oh and the Fnac is very good. If only I can understand the language.
May 18th, 2006
Oh, Oh! What a fantastic holiday weve had in the South of France. Most romantic. Quaint everything, sun bathing on the rocks, cheese and wine picnics by the sea, mad, ancient gastronomic establishments in Avignon serving up dinner by the Palace of the popes during the Middle Ages. His parents holiday home where his ex-girlfriend jumped in naked, drunk, yelling about politics and cowardice, being shot with an imitation kalishnikov in a latex outfit, with the Vieux Port behind me on a Saturday football night. Policemen right below not giving a shit. Having a blonde, gay, pretty boy call the hotel room past midnight to tell us the fax handnt gone through.
Then on the day we were supposed to leave, I left the room key to the hotel room in Le Corbusiers Unite dHabitation. The landlady (a most fit, glam -in a southern French way sort of woman) insisted on climbing onto the balcony of the room through the other balcony. She had one leg over the low wall proclaiming that she was a regular sky-diver, no fear, while a bunch of other people pulled her back in. They managed to break the lock, eventually.
We tried to drive at 180 down the highway to make it in time for our flight at Nice -one of Frances Los Angeles along the Riveria, scraping to be glam - totally without charm- okay, Im being unfair, but the charms all ruined under the pretense of glamour, excess wealth, and all the crap things about the movie industry I loathe. Partly because Im not part of the club, partly because well huh. Whats so nice about fake.
We missed our flight, stayed in a crap air-port hotel, spent about a thousand five hundred euros on fixing the mistake and the excess baggage, and ended the trip with a most eventful fuck where blood splashed all about and Richard spent hours after worrying about whether or not it was from him or me. Him, very, very bad. Me, just my period. Only my periods a bit weird because of the birth control Im using. But its all very boring really, that.
Apart from the last minute stress. I would say, if you knew how to speak the language, the Marseille and the area around it, is really cool. Its the Mediterrenean. I had a real Mediterrenean holiday with a real boyfriend, and had many evening watching the sun set, ice-cream in hand, thinking. My God. The world is alive outside Sinagapore, in the Summer.
And that is all I have to say for now. Oh and the Fnac is very good. If only I can understand the language.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
masquerade:
Unexplained blood is always disturbing.
varennes:
glad you apreciate southern France!! have you been to Aix en Provence, it's my place and er, it's beautiful!!