A blog is made for that, too, rants back, we did not dare say, for fear of the break to make a sea urchin, or that it was argued, without effect, against a guy who not understand where this anger comes from:
"said the other kesk'elle excited? Overpopulation? Pollution? No respect? Yeah, what is normal. "
Ah, another holiday ... believes that live like that!
there are days, I swear, I would be corse! I would take you to the grenade hit, hop, discharged ... But no.
PACA, tourism requires, it would be bad form that will allow the native of bitching about the rascal who travels and bitch beaches, countryside, mountains and streams. It is the goodwill ...
Yet after almost two months to remain cloistered at home, as traffic (and its peaks of pollution) is hell, it makes you want to open it, when, thanks to paid leave, the resident of the area would he, too, taste the simple pleasures of the place where he lives.
Fortunately, there are "secret" places that the tourists have not discovered, or require an effort on his part that he is unable to provide. Deserted places, I would take good care of state ...
But there is also the coast. And then you even hit a two-hour walk under a dodger hell, they are inevitable, with their boats to sea Sunday, anchored at one meter from the coast (if not on the tiny beach), drinking the pink corner without any protection from the midday sun, howling nonsense, squealing connement, slapping his belly. What they want a west wind force 8 with a big swell, laugh a little history. And if you are very naughty, a skin cancer!
Everywhere, they are everywhere, with their engines and their arrogance, that you landed on a piece of land roughly the marchers won. And it stinks of diesel and funds massacred. Cans and garbage bags thrown in the sea grass. No sooner are they a little less painful than the jet-ski. Like anything on the coast, better bring his balls ... Quiesse
course, the native still has a few resources: after a couple of miles of walking trails in the rugged coastline, it can do rock climbing and diving in a creek that barred rock outcropping. There, wearing his glasses water, he frolics in enchanting places where some dishes zonent boats, whose occupants are busy Nordic swig of pastis. He can swim along the coast, to the haven of solitude (but not quiet because the family of engines is ongoing.)
While it is still troubled by a few sea kayaks, sailboats two three small, some divers : peanuts. (We assume that Native divers equipped with guns, saw where they navigate, people are notified.)
But in the end, the native of PACA throws in the towel : It is late, it is far from everything, but still flooded, polluted, stressed, thinking he must go! Strongly September, October ...
On the way back he stops at a small beach with rocks crumbling, difficult to access, but not very far from civilization. "Taste the sunset, he said, calmly, when the majority of boaters will be returned ... "
But there he sees three Marseille land with Heineken, mask and snorkel: obviously, they can not swim or dive, but they want to make a few urchins in the late evening of August. Third generation of Marseille probably, or imported, although they emphasize "Belle de Mai", because, first, they care very little harvest dates allowed the beast Deuxio, they know not even distinguish a male from a female, and finally, as already said, they paddle. And I go ahead and wade with shrieks of boots, where the native barefoot carefully so underwater flora.
They collect some sea urchins and hermit crabs, they are going to die on the beach, as others are dying soup they rock caught in the oak forest trail ...
Assassins ! Fuckers. "I think I am, you owe me anything and everything for my face, I think not. "It is their credo, these morons! Once their uproar
past, just swim quietly urchins are there at least two feet, thank you my god, they are cons to dive too far. Their ravages are limited.
And the ships pass, plunder and pollute holidaymakers. The sea is very good. And the mountains too. Come
not PACA is not beautiful, is the drought, fires, and people are the face ... They are shit I swear to you, and on the road, you will no gifts. And in addition there will take your thunes! Mafiosi, it will not, I tell you!
Tonight I am writing from my torrent, full moon passes the bar of the mountains. Once the flow of tourists has dried up, my country regains its density equivalent to that of the Sahel. That's how I like not being stuck ...
Until the winter holidays ....
I still have the spring and fall, do not Vienda, climatic conditions are disastrous!
Oh damn tomorrow back to school I saw him, and I'm on vacation ^ ^
