Something happened to me in France, it began here in nice.
Here's my story...
Its written nice but said as niece if yah didnt know.
I went to Nice after Venice. Changed trains in Milan... So technically ive been to Milan. There was a tunnel in Paris that went for a good 20 minutes. All i could think as i sat in the cabin was some guy coming in and going "Miscuse,Miscuse" Luckily there was a light on. Maybe because i was coming from Milan. But everyone in my little compartment was wearing sunnies. Even in the tunnel. Decided to book a high rated hostel which had drinks for 1 euro each (2 bucks). Walked out of the station about 8 at night. Was greeted unexpectectnly by 3 sex shops. I had a good feeling about France!
I got on a bus and was immediatley greeted by what people describe has the french hospitality. The bus driver didnt even acknowledge my existence. When i walked on i said ahhh "Pardoooon, may i have a ticket please". I sat down and walked back when he stopped again. Still didnt acknowledge me. He was the only bad french person i met in the entire france.
Me and an american got the hostel to pick us up because the hostel is out of town. It actually is cool though beacause the hostel looks down onto nice. The place was pretty good. Lots of internet and lots of people. The only thing was that almost everyone there looked like they were dressed to go to a nightclub. I instantly realised that i hadnt washed my clothes since being in Egypt.
So i put all my clothes in for washing. Apologised for the smell and spent the night watching 20 swedes dance to an ABBA theme night. Swedes dance funny.
I had 3 nights here. 2 full days. The first day i went to a little town by bus which the hostel said was a must see. It was shite so i didnt stay long and headed to Monte Carlo/ Monaco. Same same. I could never work out whether Monte Carlo was a suburb of the area of Monaco or vice versa.
I walked around Monte Carlo. Looked at the casino. It was a flash place and the cars were flashy. But i remember thinking that Moscow was flashier. I sat there and ate bread and peanut butter and then left back to the hostel.
My clothes were still in the wash and all i had was a pair of jeans with a hole in the groin the size of a tennis ball, boxers and a "ciao bella" (hello beautiful, or often in my case goodbye beautiful - ciao means hello and goodbye) tourist shirt written in the coke symbol.
I was in cheap mode. Cooking spaghetti and talking to a swedish girl called i forgot to write it down so id remember it. We sat down at the only table with free space at the time and then something happened that will change my life forever. I met some Northen Irishmen.
Chatting away they explained that they had been drinking since the morning. They were 4 30 something guys on a drinking 4 day holiday where 2 of them were going to run a marathon from nice to somewhere in italy. They do a marathon every year and are usually drunk when they do it. Their names were Mark, Baz, Greggory and Clifford. There was also an american lady called erica who i shall also mention.
Greg said to me "Would you like i beer?"
I said no thanks im fine
Greg "Your havin one"
He got up and bought about 8 beers, big tall cans of Hogeendeworz or something like that.
I took my first sip and thought; wait a second i didnt cringe. Beer is o...k
I drunk my first can, as i got near the bottom i struggled with the heat of the liquid. They bout more and more and mine was stacking up.
The conversations of drunken Irishmen ranged from erica living in a place caused Fannyville to me being borat a uzbekistani as greg said. They were keen to sing to bob marley and keen to make sure i knew that Nth Ireland was very different to the sth and that North Ireland is in gregs words a toilet.
These guys were so great they gove me their adresses, baz gove me gregs parents home number. Greg danced with a bowl on his head (see video)
I learnt the following important things
floor sucker - is a vacuum cleaner
wee dafty - is a not so bright kid
big hagen - is the big wig, leader of a group
I said to greg, "You know your jersey reminds me of a league team we have back home called st george"
Greg "You like the jersey, have it!!"
Brett "Nah its yours, i cant take it, its your baby"
He had been telling me before how he had worn this jersey all over the world and had thrown up in it in bratislava, new york and austria, just to name a few places. It was as white as the day he bought it, i kept thinking;
Greg "Your having it!!!"
I was honoured and he was akmost proud for me to be carrying on the honour of his jersey.
Meanwhile i had drunk a couple of beers and was feeling proud of myself. I couldnt really do anymore at the time but i was proud to have accomplished one of the main goals of my trip. Although the irish did not know my virginity to beer; the ulster jersey donated by gregory was almost a medal to potray this accomplishment.
The irish wanted me to go to montecarlo the next day. I was extremelley tempted to go, but only had one more day and wanted to see cannes. They were dissapointed that i was going to miss their running in the marathon. I was tempted to stay, but i had got a real good bargain on my ticket to paris and had organised to stay with fiona there anyway.
I didnt realise at the time; but the swedish girl had asked me to go to bed with her. She barely understood a word anyone said; and for some reason stayed up all night with us. As i was heading off she asked where i was sleeping and said a comment something like she didnt want to sleep alone tonight and if i needed to stay in a quiet room i could stay in hers. I said something like its alright theres only one guy in my room and hes pretty quiet and went to bed. Now some of you may be thinking what a dumbass. It was a final scene of dumb and dumber moment. She was a pretty girl, but brett harden does not take advantage of drunken women. He is also not smart enough to.
I got the train to cannes, it was windy and rainy, so i left. These areas were very pretty, nice to look at and stroll with a girl friend. But there not the beaches of normandy.
I sadly said goodbye to the irishman. Left at 5am in the morning. Got the first bus to the station and headed to paris. Somehow i felt different after nice.
As the train took off a tear rolled down my face.... I had finally become a man. Really you dont know how proud of myself i am! I only hope pete you are as proud of me. Are you pete?
More thumbnails ...
19 votes 
