Rebecca Carpentras Whore ❤️❤️

About Bordeaux

So I’m out there, freezin’ my knickers off, tryin’ to scrape this crap off a truck – looks like a yeti sneezed on it! Reminds me of that line, “You mustn’t give up, my dear!” – Gustave’s grit, baby, keeps me goin’. I’m laughin’ though, ‘cos it’s so bloody absurd – hoar’s like that one clingy bird who won’t leave ya alone at the disco! Ever hear ‘bout the Great Hoar of ’67? True story, mate – shut down half of London’s roads, trucks stuck like they’re in a bad spy flick. I wasn’t there, but I feel it in my mojo – history repeatin’ itself, far out!

Donde alojarse en Carpentras

The men have been having a great time here because the French gals have it all over the Italian ones, and they've been having nightly dances at a nearby.

The old town is a mess of narrow lanes like Rue du Calvaire and Rue des Charmettes, tangled up in a beauty that's as deceptive as a ticking blast. You step out to the Place de l’Hôtel-de-Ville, and bon, there’s that insane vibe from the centuries-old buildings, like monuments to past glory and failure all at once. I'm always surprized how a place so old feels so alive, and yeah, it sometimes pisses me off—like, why is beauty always hiding behind grime, right?

How this 650-year-old French synagogue withstood centuries of anti-Semitism