Not sure if that’s what you expect but well :
- Museums and Asian tourists
- Cheap clothes and youth
- Contemporary art and design, gay-gay-gay-giddy-gays but only male and rich
- idyllic architecture, hotels particuliers, treasures at every corner
- Jardin des Plantes, Politics wanabees, strollers, TONS of strollers
- American tourists, Saint-Germain, rich people that like to think they’re hipsters
- Catholic minefield, illegal street-sellers, Eiffel Tower
- Catholic Extremists, Offices, lively during the week, dead on saturdays & sundays
- Ancient art, second-hand artefacts, ramen, japonese and korean
- La Bohème, small bars, cute nights on the Canal Saint-Martin, Little India
- Binge drinking. A LOT.
- Lesboland, huge concerts at Bercy, fun to stroll around
- Residential, nuns, cute parks, Chinatown
- EXTREMELY residential, travellers shifting
- Sarkoland (rich and right wing people), housebreaking, 6€ for a fucking can of Coca Cola
- Pretty and representative
- Tourists, stree-sellers, a bit of romanticism
- The worst, like, I don’t even know where to begin
- Ultimate fav’ place in Paris aka Père Lachaise Cemetary, underground places, artistic, popular
Everton defender Bryan Oviedo looks close to completing a miraculous recovery from a double leg break as he restarts training this week.
The 24 year old suffered the horrific injury against Stevenage less than three calendar months ago and yet has released a video on Youtube of himself going through a strenuous training routine today.
Oviedo had become a fans’ favourite at Goodison Park thanks in…
travelling is fun you say?
Oh it’s bloody fucking fantastic. Oh yeah. It’s great when you have to go A LOT out of your way to meet family you’ve never met before because if you don’t you’re basically disappointing your own family who then will act like 15 year olds and say “that’s okay, fine, don’t go. Whatever.” which is obvs code for “i’m very disappointed in you” and being the person that I am, I always fall for it and end up terribly inconveniencing a bunch of people.
So now. I have to cancel the flight from San Fran to LA. I have to book a Greyhound to Fresno from Sacramento and go on a four hour bus ride to the middle of fucking nowhere and then I have to stay with a family I’ve never even met before and stay with them for a few days and then get in a car with them for four hours to go to LA where I am most likely going to have to wait at the fucking airport for the best part of like 6 hours for my flight.
That doesn’t sound as bad but you have no idea the happenings of the past 2 hours.
Dad: Go to LA, you wanna go, go. Call your uncle in Fresno and have him call the family in LA.
Me: Why can’t you call the family in LA?
Dad: Because I haven’t spoken to them in years.
Me: Okay you haven’t spoken to them in years and you want me to visit them?
Dad: Yes. Okay fine don’t go to LA. But what if you were to go to LA? You can stay with such and such (who you’ve never met before) and they can show you around.
Me: Yes. I want to be shown around LA by a 50 year old.
Or then he wants me to go from Sacramento tomorrow to Fresno by bus and then catch a bus back and be back in Sacramento by Friday afternoon so my aunty can take me shopping and then go to San Fran Saturday morning and then go to LA on Monday and leave on Wednesday night. Like what kind of sense does that make? To go south and then back north and then west and then back south again? No sense. none.
Don’t you tell me I sound unappreciative bitch. You have no idea how frustrating the past two hours have been.
And then on top of that, my ‘uncle’ wants me to meet EVERYONE in LA. “oh that’s my brother and that’s my sister and this and that. Like honestly, child. I am so exhausted from travelling. I just. want. to. be. left. alone.
I hate travelling like this. I wish I had a friend with me. I will never ever do this again. Ever.