I must apologise, that opening sentence has absolutely nothing to do with what I'm about to talk about in the rest of this post. If you are lucky, I may mention my beard however the last time I chopped wood was a complete failure so I won't mention that. I'll just leave it up to your imagination.
So, a few things have happened recently. Firstly, I went to Paris with my beautiful significant other.
Here are some highlights:
- We went to the bridge from Inception
- The sun came out just as we were stood underneath the Eiffel Tower and a person pretending to be deaf robbed me of two English pounds.
- I ate snails: they taste like rubbery, slimy nuggets of golden deliciousness. The weird contraption to remove the snails was way beyond my capabilities though, much like when I try to chop wood.
- Authentic French wine is much tastier than that £3 bottle of corner shop piss in Newcastle on a Saturday afternoon.
- Contrary to all the travel guides I researched, the French people were all friendly, smiley and happy to help (apart from the woman pretending to be deaf who took my two pounds).
- I must be getting old because I don't like pubs with loud music any more.
- Notre Dame has a way better view than the Eiffel Tower. Mainly because you can't see the Eiffel Tower when you are stood atop the Eiffel Tower.
- Paris really is the most romantic city in the world.
The only downside to our little trip to Paris was again a sign of my entrance into old age (Yes, I know I'm only 22 but I'm an old crippled man on the inside, it's slowly working it's way to the exterior). We got a coach to Paris from London, it took a good 10 hours through the night and we arrived in Paris at 9am the next day. It's a nice way to travel, you can look out the window, daydream and be gently rocked to sleep by the rumble of the road. When we arrived in Paris after this hefty journey my legs decided that they didn't really fancy functioning for the next 72 hours. My blood had clotted and turned to a maple syrup type substance and I was slowly solidifying from the inside out. It was agony trying to climb the stairs up the Tower. Especially the everlasting spiral staircases to the top of Notre Dame, totally worth it for the view but my legs tense up and spasm at the thought of it.
I didn't let it get me down and it genuinely was one of the best weekends of my life, I've always wanted to go to Paris every since I was a young lad and now my dream was finally true. I fell for the romance of Paris, drank a lot of red wine and got scammed at the
bottom of the Eiffel Tower: it was exactly like all the literature and poetry has envisioned for years.
So that was Paris. Not much else happened upon our return to London. It was mostly me lying in bed whining that I couldn't walk, demanding cups of tea and cuddles.
Back in Cheshire I nipped out to see Alestorm's Pirate Fest at Manchester Academy 2. It was a superb show, all of the bands were excellent and the bar had Iron Maiden's Trooper Ale so I was very very happy. The only downside was every single other person in the venue was dressed as a pirate, apart from me. I must have missed the memo or it was just a huge coincidence that this is how people dress nowadays. I crowdsurfed and moshed like I was 16 again, it was tremendous fun. I broke my shoes and woke up with a killer headache. Always a sign of a good gig. 9/10.
Lastly, I was invited down to a little village called Wick to put my Grandfathers ashes to rest. There was a lot of family there and it was a really nice event, it was very positive and happy and it was great to see everyone. There were some relatives that I hadn't seen for a good 12 years but they still managed to remember my name even though I was suited and bearded. My memory sadly wasn't as good as theirs but I was only a bairn last time I was there. It was at the house that my Grandmother grew up in. I climbed the trees in the garden in my childhood when visiting there, I learned that when my Father was younger he used to climb the same trees. It was amazing to have such a universal connection to one place. I did climb the tree in my suit when no-one was looking just to be a part of it once more.
I was told many a story from my grandfather's and his children's past in this village and it has seen so many events in time. It all hit home when I looked down to my right hand side at the church and sitting on a bench was my Granddad: in a tiny little box with his name on. It was the most unusual thing I have ever experienced. All I will say is that I was glad to know him and will not forget him. His ashes were buried in the graveyard of a church where my Grandparents were married, my Dad was baptised, my Great Grandmother and Great Uncle both are buried in the graveyard and now my Granddad has joined them, It's kind of sweet in a way.
That's all I've got to say about that, at least I got to catch up with my partner in crime and younger sister Zof. It's always a pleasure. Cheers y'all.
Next up is a month of solid work and job applications. I really need to get into full time employment soon or I will start to rot in this bed like the grandparents from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.