PARIS and the Hyper U

People often describe Paris as the city of love, but both times I've been I got the shits so make of that what you will. having said that, it is a beautiful city. If you haven't been it's like London but they have cafés on every corner meaning there are more places to sit and watch the squalor rolling by. We're just back from a three day break there.

 

Parisian architecture - second to none.

Other trips we have made are:

• City of Rennes x 1
• Mont Saint Michel x 1
• Hyper U supermarket x 26.

Rennes was very nice, Mont Saint Michel was spectacular, but neither of them come close to our local Hyper U. We go all the time, regardless of whether we need to buy anything. And you can buy anything there. My most recent acquisitions were two pairs of pants from the brand 'Urban Way', an electric razor, some firelighters and 1kg of yoghurt. I identify with the brand 'urban way' because it shares my core values of being urban and living in supermarkets.

 Pilgrims travel for thousands of miles to worship at the giant tap of Mont Saint Michel.

Last night we went out for a friday night boozathon in the local village. We were home in 20 minutes. Of the two bars one was empty and the other had deftly managed to distill everything that's wrong with the English into three middle aged expats sitting round the bar. One man in particular was completely unacceptable. He spent the 20 mins we were there chatting up the woman behind the bar in the crudest terms at the top of his voice with his wife sat next to him. They were all so bored. It was a timely warning - learn the language or you'll be forced to hang around with people you can't bare because they are the only people you can communicate with.

The novel is coming on well. It's pretty much finished. It's already being described by critics as "I haven't read it yet" and "what novel? Why are you standing outside my house." 

Rose made a giant horse.

Next week we go to the seaside. I'm going to tear the seaside a new a-hole. It's the urban way.

I'm catching on.

First dance with the ruddy Frenchies.

We have found ourselves in a hamlet in Brittany. Closest city is Rennes. There are 10 other houses and no shops in our Hamlet. Whilst trying to find the bins I met a farmer called Didier. He was very friendly. I think that we will soon be best friends. I had no idea what he said, but we shook hands and he didn’t set his dog on me which in France is considered a term of endearment. The conclusion I have drawn from my initial encounters with the French is that they don’t speak very good French. Luckily for them I have arrived so that I might guide them. One day I will be the Prince of France.

Nearest village with a shop is called Bazouges La Perouges (translates as Bazooka that Veruca). The pizza van turns up in Bazooka on Wednesday evenings. Who needs London. 

 

 What is this sorcery? The French have interbred horses with goats to create some kind of super animal.

 I am certain the French are preparing for another invasion, but they have been very friendly to us since we have arrived, presumbably because we are already here so there’s no need to invade us. Sometimes it's eerily quiet over here though so probably planning an invasion.

 

 Came across this scene on a path by a lake. One of the things I admire most about the french is their liberated attitude to sex.