As usual, I woke up first and made my way downstairs to buy/steal some breakfast. On my way back up, I came up with the brilliant idea of waking Flower up and sneaking off to Monmarte without Simon. Just a few hours away from him would have done wonders for my psyche because, all day every day, we were listening to this:
"Hey guys, I'm really blagged about this situation in York. I mean, Hache (crazy drug dealer guy) was one of my best mates and he fucked me over. What an asshole. I don't know what I'm gonna do, because he wants me dead and he told everybody I know and now they want me dead too. I just don't know what I'm gonna do. I can't go back to York because it would be bad. My sister lives in Wales, I can go live with her for a bit until I get my inheritance in November, but I really just want to go back to York. I think I'll go back to York. It'll probably be safe. I think I should quit drugs and become a Christian. Because, I mean, I used to be a Christian, and I think I believe in God. I think I should quit drugs, but if I become a Christian, I'll become a Rastafarian because those are sound guys and they'll know how to get good weed. I wouldn't become a Rastafarian just for the weed, I really like what they think. Also, Rastafarians know where the good raves are. I think I want to quit drugs, but I definitely want to do a huge MDMA and acid session when I get back to York because that really sorts my head out. And I won't quit weed. I'm not addicted, but I know I can't stop. I just won't. I'll smoke weed everyday and probably do LSD every few weeks, but I think I'm gonna quit drugs. A rave once a month would be fun, too. I really want to try every drug. I would definitely do crack and heroine at some point. I really wanna try prescription meds, too. What do you guys think..?"
Non-stop, every day. And then we would answer him and give him really good advice on how to sort his life out, and he'd say, "Aww fuck it, can't be assed. Alreet mate, I'm really blagged. Can't be assed." That's basically us giving him good life advice and him telling us to fuck off. Then the process would start all over again. On top of that, he had zero personal hygiene. He'd almost never shower when the opportunity arose and he had a cold. He'd blow snot and cough everywhere or into his hands and then rub them on things. This made me hopelessly ill for the second half of the trip. Just a gross, horrible human being. Flower and I needed to get away...
We were able to gather our things and leave without waking up Simon, but on our way down the stairs, we were stopped by the guy at reception who told us we needed to check out. I forgot that I had only booked the hotel until the 11th, so I asked him if we could buy an extra day. He told us the room was booked, but that we could have another room. We took it, but this meant that we had to wake up Simon and move our stuff. Operation Abandon Simon was a failure. It's okay, though, because when we got to Monmarte, it looked like this...
What luck. My birthday was the most beautiful day of the entire trip. The clouds were gorgeous, it was significantly warmer than the previous days, and all of the daisies were in full bloom...
It was absolutely perfect. We laid on the grass for hours sunbathing, just taking in how wonderful this place was and how totally worth it it was to come to mainland Europe. Life really doesn't get much better...Then it did. Across the way, we saw a group of Uni students sitting around and they had a guitar. After going over all of the French vocabulary that existed inside my brain, we approached them and attempted a conversation. We quickly discovered that they all spoke English AND they let Flower and I play the guitar. So, along with sunbathing on the warm grass at the most beautiful place in Paris, we also met some really cool people and got to play guitar. Wow, how can it get any better..?
That day, we found out that Simon was going to get a 220 Euros from his brother sent by money gram. That meant that we didn't have to worry so much about money. We could splurge a bit for my birthday. What did we buy? A bottle of Absynthe. After two shots each, we were quite drunk. We walked back to Monmarte while obliterated and, at one point, I forgot how to walk properly and fell down for absolutely no reason. I would later find out that I sprained my left foot, but at the time, it was pretty hilarious. We kept going...
When we arrived at our destination, we found it more crowded than it was earlier. We sat on the grass again to take in the nighttime scenery and saw, just in front of us, a group of old French guys playing classical guitar. We were drunk, so we immediately approached them and asked if we could play. Luckily, they were drunk as well, so the language barrier was not a problem. Along with allowing us to play their guitar, they shared some bread, tuna, and wine with us. We thanked them, then decided to head back to the hotel for more drinks...
Instead, we all passed out. In our new room, we were all sharing a double bed. I was curled up on the left side, Flower was on the right. Simon dove into the middle and was tossing and turning and moaning all night. He stripped down to his boxers and wouldn't shut up. Flower and I were getting really pissed, because now we were hung over and trying to sleep. Just when we couldn't take it anymore, Simon lept from the middle of the bed to the toilet and began projectile vomiting. After our initial shock, Flower and I sat up in bed and chuckled to ourselves. Simon got food poisoning from the tuna and would spend the next eight hours curled up on the bathroom floor, throwing up every fifteen minutes or so...
A little karma went a long way in making my birthday celebration that much better...
More to come..:-)
-Matt
1 comment:
Bequtiful pictures.
Sounds like you had a qzeso,e time.
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