I'm baaaaaack

Hello. Your long-lost friend has returned. I ended quite abruptly, and I apologise. Getting ready for holidays is pretty tough and I was trying to tidy my house for my friend who dog-sat and was supposed to stay in the house (she didn't). I hate cleaning the house -- it's the type of thing that should be done gradually, every day, the type of thing I don't subscribe to.

Well, France. I can't recommend it highly enough. Here are some things you should know, if you plan a trip, with the information provided in the easy to write and read bulleted list -- ahh:

• Corsica is absolutely gorgeous and worth the trip. Beaches, mountains, quaint villages. The train ride from the northwest to the northeast is amazing.
• Corsican food is absolutely shit and completely not worth it. Save the cheese. The Corsicans do this mild, creamy goat's cheese unlike the type I've been used to. Never wait until the early Monday morning before your ferry departure to try to find some to snack on for your trip. You will be looking at an €11 chunk from a dingy corner shop, which your partner will veto on subject of economy and hygiene.
• Give more than half a day to the Alps. Like a comedy of errors that deserves it's own entry, our two days in Chamonix was reduced to 18 hours.
• You will not get to top of the Eiffel Tower before it's 11 pm closing time if you get in the queue only an hour before hand. Damn touristy Americans with their absurd fascination with Tour Eiffel. Likewise, unless you are willing to stump for a taxi, don't attempt a near-midnight ascent of the Tower, as you'll miss all the trains in the Metro and will take 2 hours to walk back to your hotel.
• While walking back from the Eiffel Tower at an absurd and unreasonable hour, do not get your crepe from the dude with two people in his shop. Get it from the dude who has a queue wrapping around his. The former's crepe will be shite.
• Don't even bother with the Mona Lisa. You will feel such a relief about it. As with Tour Eiffel, there is never a time when there won't be a buttload of folksies up in the piece. And anyway, that book is so stupid.
• Swim trunks, though stupid looking and likely to share more than a man ever really wanted to, are hygenic and necessary to have if you want to swim in the rad swimming pool floating in the Seine river. Also necessary is a swim cap for the same hygenic reasons, though picking the skin on your peeling feet, blowing your nose without a tissue and hives all over the body all pass the hygenic test. The French are crazy, crazy people.
• The French will be nicer and friendlier than you think, with more people knowing English than you think. That is because they want your money. They will tolerate you as a person of colour (though no promises on staring at you for startingly uncomfortable lengths), again for the aforementioned reason and as long as you promise not to try and live there.

Hopefully, pictures will be up soon.

I haven't blogged since we got back on Sunday, as we have been otherwise engaged. With all the booking and planning and such, I forgot a few things, one of them being that I already booked our trip back from Leeds (we flew back from Paris to Leeds, where Boy's family's at), so I booked another trip. With it being non-refundable, Mil (mother-in-law) and Filee (her husband, my other father-in-law) came up for two days. Then, the CouchSurfer arrived the day after she left. She leaves tomorrow and Sil (sister-in-law) with Dylan, Zebedee and Dougal arrive. Plus the festivals have started. So I might not be back for a while.