среда, 3 июля 2013 г.

South France

Two weeks in June I've spent in a little town called Grimaud sutiated 20 mins away from one of the the most luxurious sea-side resourts in the whole world Saint-Tropez.


Before the trip I was running around and sharing with everyone how lucky I was to visit this town fo free.I used the fact in every single conversation. It sounded really good:
- What are you doing in summer?
- Visiting gran'ma in a village of Yorkshire, may be going out couple of times, nothing much, you?
- Oh neither, just, you know, staying at Sait-Tropez for a couple of weeks...

However it turened out that I much preferred 'staying local' than going to the actual destination of the visit as I was overwhelmed by the amount of posh, flashy creatures that live there. (Or just go there every day from their twoandahaldhouraway houses. Notincludingtraffic.)
Don't want to go on about this for too long but I have to mention that locals sunbathe with full make up on and name their yachts 'One More Toy'.



So instead of sinking in the show-off town we were exploring narrow streets of places around: Grimaud, Port-Grimaud and villages. It felt much better and much much more natural. All these typical french with croocked noses, sunkissed skin and uncontrollable, loud voices.



Victoria hoping for an owner of the shop to kindly present her 'like a little neakless or something'

The highest point of the region where crows of tourist take photographs of the panorama. Me feeling included




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