Monolust; Walking at 6am down the abandoned train line to the airport, a flight to the middle of nowhere in Southern rural France, two hitch-hikes with two equally dodgy drivers, catching the start of the Tour De France, witnessing street light outage, seriously bitching fireworks, a dodgy kebab, song improv’s about hoe-bags on the riverbanks, roughing it in that nice riverside bush, waking up in the super-am to floating mist, the dodgy double-taking dogwalkers, the super weird trams, the unhelpful tourism bureaux, climbing Saint Etienne, meeting the two random french blokes who pussied out on the climb, getting epicly lost, meeting the nice baker at 4am who gave us water, wandering through miles of pitch-black French countryside watching the milky-way listening to Daft Punk, G declining £20 to piggyback me, sleeping next to the runway and lastly getting woken up to the sound of an air-plane taking off.
Photo: Cathedral de St Etienne (left), and Bastilles Fireworks, Toulouse, France, (2010)
