After 44 years abroad, I’m rediscovering a France I completely missed — especially its music. Iconic bands I never heard of, hits everyone knows except me, and weekly surprises as I catch up on four lost decades. It’s like being a tourist in my own country… and I’m loving every minute. Click in and join the ride.
November was meant to be quiet… instead it turned into a marathon of musicals, mulled wine, and mysterious back pain. Read more…
Christmas seems to have ambushed me early this year—blame the sudden cold, the town’s over-enthusiastic lights visible from space, or the shops that think I came in for Santa mugs instead of water glasses. With the First Advent still days away and Heart 70 refusing to play a single carol, I’ve stumbled into festive chaos far ahead of schedule… and it’s oddly delightful. Read more…
Start your day with my daily dose of chaos, coffee and comedy: from misbehaving cars to disappearing turkeys, nostalgic mornings, wild errands, creative struggles and the small triumphs that keep life entertaining. One click, one laugh — bienvenue dans mon joyeux bazar.
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Start your day with a laugh: join me for a caffeine-fueled tour of world headlines, wild ideas, vintage pyjamas, and the noble struggle of writing one page a day. A mix of wit, routines, nostalgia and chaos — all brewed fresh every morning. Dive in, it’s more energising than a double espresso.
Winter barged in like an uninvited guest this week, the Tramontane tried to blow me into Spain, and my monthly injection needle seems to be training for a bodybuilding contest — but between a divine Tartiflette in Ortaffa, a nostalgia-packed Covertramp concert, and prepping a very un-French Thanksgiving, Week 47 turned out to be surprisingly tasty. Curious? Click in — it’s worth the ride.
A cosy night, a cheese documentary, and then—horror. One revolting Burger King advert later, my appetite vanished, my evening was ruined, and a family-wide fast-food ban was declared. Curious how a single commercial pushed me to the brink? Click in… if you dare.
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Between the sudden winter chill, a swarm of hyper-motivated retirees, a Christmas market rising from the ground, and the glorious failure of France’s digital IDs, my morning turned into a full-blown administrative comedy. Come read how, at 72, I managed to be too modern for the post office.
Venez découvrir Renaud, le pilote qui disait oui à toutes les motos que personne n’osait toucher — surtout cette Kawasaki JBB 750 H2, un prototype aussi stable qu’un frigo sur roulettes. Une plongée hilarante dans les années 70, quand les moustaches étaient aérodynamiques et les pilotes légèrement inconscients. Cliquez avant que ça ne fume !
A short history of Carcassonne
