For The Mothers: Trois Bros At Full Power

Well here we have it; ladies and gentlemen of our humble homes and hilly havens whom we, in a wholly heterosexual and in hugely wholesome habit, love with all our homesick but hardly heavy hearts,

the moment you've all been waiting for,

the occasion upon which our excitement soars,



because it couldn't wait even one ... moment ... more,


... (dramatic pause replete with baited breath)


NOT ONE, NOT TWO, AND CERTAINLY NOT SO MANY AS FOUR,

BUT THREE, THE THREE 'GRAND' GARCONS ARE AS ONE ONCE MORE!


That little snippet of theatricality was about half as awesome as the moment when tim and I, after asking the french locals if they've seen a spindly giant stalking the train station, first saw our long lost (and now well versed in french) counterpart, trick in the central station of Bordeaux. Let the good times roll on out.

Leaving you at Marsailles was harder for me then it was for you people, so let me dozn easy when more then 24 hours pass without a post. It's hard when you're always moving! And Timqth and I just crawled our way out of THE shite est hotel EVER. And not just because it was immediatley contrasted to our Uber hostel in Nice. So there was little access as will become abundantly clear later O insatiable readers.

This night we were convinced by Musah, who along with his travel pal Tom were from Amsterdam to go out to town seeing as it was a saturday. I lost some cred though because I couldn't resist the urge and indulge in the stereotypes, asking If Tom brought clogs with him just in case. I think an awkard laugh might have trickled out alongside my dopey chuckles.

But Tim and I did drag our sorry asses out, striving to make the most of our trip. And It was so wirth It.

We walked for a bit to get to a cafe bar reccommended to us by someone that I now forget which was quite busy, so we pushed on into the bar quarter. This was pretty hip and happening and there were people everywhere pouring out onto the street from the backs of the venues that all converged in street crosses. This was the sort of scene you have to look hard for in Oz.

So mopey old Tim who is NOT good at travelling was tre fatigued but, in desperation and upon hearing a few notes of live music escaping through an unauspicious doorway forced tim to follow me into the depths of a (free!) venue where a chaos funk metal band was playing. I would describe them as the distant child of half Air and Jethro Tull ethnicity and half protest the hero. They were so good, and their riffs still send us hopping down the street every now and then to this day.


Day 2 at Marsailles we spent NOT thinking about my card and walked around the ridiculously beautiful city. This was Marseilles' time to shine and it did just that. It really is a postcard city. with ochre alleyways draining into a sun soaked harbour full to the brim with white boats shoulder to shoulder, markets clinging to every street corner, the air humming with the voices of the crowd of people (some were french I hope!) and our lungs purged of the inner city haze by the cool breeze drifting off the sea.

And by the way I forgot my chord so no visuals today!

Then Timmy boy walked with me to the coast, stopping at a fortress perched lazily on a mountainside, stone walls slumping slightly against the grass edges. We got a solid view of the city from this vantage point and headed back down to the road so we could reach the waterfront.

my Oz spirit kicked inside me when we got to the first beach, which was enough of an experience to remind me of the beaches we were missing but also to remind us of how awesome our beaches really are back home. the people sunbaking were all but fully clothed! Bummer. We then continued our walk around the coast along a road carved into the side of a bleached stone mountain, eating the most succulent pommes I have ever had (pomme is french for apple, as judy would definately be proud to know already) and wind tossing through our rugged hair. We turned back and walked through the streets of the city at dusk, things getting cooler and quieter, everything embracing a slight tinge of blue. We saw some street art, jumped around and got directions to this restaurant by the sea near Marseille. I played some guitar for some of the hostel residents who were leaning out their windows and finished an old song i started in sweden.

In the night of day 2, Tim and I were peer pressured into some hard drugs.

lol. we really werent but I thought it might fool some readers out there. There was no one with hard drugs anywhere near our hostel.

We got the directions to this restaurant that can only be reached by foot from the hostel receptionist and headed out early in the Morning. we hopped a metro and a bus and got out at a uni in the outskirts of Marseilles. after a bushwalk through some french style scrub the moutainous landscape opened out into the most incredible coastal vista ever! Tim and I climbed this peak that overlooked the coast and it looked like we could see the world beneath our feet. We trekked down the hill and down to the tiny pier where the restaurant (closed for the winter) was.

Afterwards, tim and I hauled ourselves back to the bus station and and literally collapsed on our beds. That was Marseilles done and it was very worthzhile.

The follwing morning I tried to get my card back but it turns out banks arent really concerned with their customers and I was pretty much told to get lost by this teller at the french bank connected to the ATM. good news is, my new card is en route to Europe. so all is well!

Tim and I travelled with Musah and his bud and trained it to Nice, finding that it was quite soggy in comparison to Marseilles. We caught the tram to a stop near a supermarket where I rapidly bought the components for some sandwhiches while the hostel bus waited outside and behind it insane french motorists punched their horns in a frenzied rage.

I took a stroll around Nice and then we decided to spend one of many nights in because of the awesome poeple we met, the cheap beers (1 Euro each) and the incredibly addictive brownies.
The next day we walked through Nice old town to the modern art museum (ps dont go there it epitomises modern arts inadequacy), the clustered street markets and patisseries, And we even checked out a chocolate shop and bought some dark chocolate lolly pops. wow.

The coast of Nice was unremarkable in the heavy rain but still worth seeing.

The next day we took some advice and took the bus to the mountainous areas north west of nice to Saint Paul, which is this medieval castle town teetering on the edge of a cliff enveloped by thick fog. Breathtakingly beautiful, breathtakingly cold. We went with a Canadian Matt and bought beers, having d and ms and laughing a lot, mostly at the expense of his country's southern neighbors. There is some really fantastic art stores in this town and I owe you some photos for later.

We took it easy that night and only carved through like four or five bottles of wine between three of us (4 euros a bottle, you tell me) and slept heavily, though not as heavy as our ridiculously loud roommate who I thought sounded like (at different times):

A tanker running into an iceberg, repeatedly
A walrus choking on a brick
A man jackhammering an oil drum
A catastrophic eruption
Someone revving a harley davidson from like the 70s

that next day I left my latest graphic novel at the room, which meant we missed our train that was delayed by the train driver strike anyway. I made sure tim knew that, since hes the best person i know at concealing all his emotions with some latent autistic abilities or something. We ended up taking this fantastic walk around the Nice coast and up a lookout which was well worth it since that was the first sunny day we'd seen.

Then, we travelled to Toulouse. This turned out to be a terrible, terrible, mistake. We got off the train at about 2300 and it was raining a little, which was ok. It started getting not ok when we began our walk which was to be repeated countless times to our hotel in the middle of fricking nowhere with nothing but empty cars and industrial warehouses for company along the half lit roads. I'm suprised we survived, honestly. We did not see a single person in the hotel the whole time we stayed there, except for the last day where we me the mad eyed owner. take the comments seriously if they say the halls are creepy. cause they were.

The next day we walked through the city, finding some markets and PEOPLE which was so refreshing. we walked around the old town, ate and talked and then saw a movie. When we got home, I felt like we needed to do something and since the metro closed at like 2400 and there was no way in hell we were walking all the way home after going out I suggested we check out the old train station.

This was the beginning of a horrible and terrifying night. After the station, we walked through a graveyard, with light only in the distance, in pitch black and rain, and were scared out of our minds. We waked past empty derelict houses, massive hulking storehouses for companies, and murky grass plains until we got to the bridge over the dark un,oving river. A single ferry slid accross its surface, light from the pit of hell blinding our eyes to the sight of the undead steering it forward. We stumbled past a crack den into a the middle of a tent villiage with voices and smoke, so tim and I just ran for our wretched lives then. We fell through the door, into our beds, comforted not by the cigarette qnd sex stained hotel room we came to call home.

The next day crepes were breakfast (yay!) and Timqth left for the markets, 'bored of buildings' and I walked around the cold city, finding somre redeeming architecture and tranquil gardens to change my opinion slightly. That night was the last, where we watched another film and walked all the way home.

That day we didnt even bother to check the times for the train and got lucky at the station as it was leaving in like an hour. So we had a 'royale with cheese' and beer at the big D for all those Quentin T fans out there. there might be a few.

And that was yesterday! I'm about to meet up with Tim and nick again and I'm late so I have to go. thats how committed I am to you all!

Anyway, lots of hug

and stuff

nathan