Mourrons pour des idées, d'accord, mais de mort lente

Well, I'm back from France. Even though I told everybody I was going to blog about it, or at least send some emails to my loved ones, I did neither. I blame it on the augmented levels of ennui with anything other than stuffing oneself with rich food and wine that is associated with living in France. Indeed, I spent a hefty percentage of time in half-concious bliss after food-gasms and other-gasms. Otherwise I was soaking up the culture and history blah blah blah.


Near St Remy-de-Provence (the birthplace of Nostradamus) is the Roman site of Glanum. Look! I'm sitting on 2,000 year old crap! We did other things, including riding around in a little train through Marseille. Y'know, the train that you laugh at because it's filled with sun-burned Germans and fat Americans with giant baby blue shirts and khaki pants and fanny packs.


Audrey was very hesitant to do any travelling. I wanted to go to Barcelona, but there was always something that prevented us from goin. Later she admitted she was trying to save money to do travelling when she comes to the US. What about me? sez I. When is then next time I'm going to be in Europe? Well actually, I guess if I keep up this rate, that would be in 6 months. Still a bit disappointing.

Hopefully we will go to Brazil together and see Alida in Bahia. By then I'm sure she will be giving round-house kicks to the face like a pro (Bahia being the home of capoeira). Check out her blog: liderhosen.

God bless (it)