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About Bordeaux

Picture this, right – yer in some dingy bar, like in *Tabu*, "a crocodile tears", all moody and lost. This song’s blarin’, and I’m thinkin’, “Ozzy, you mad bastard, you’d prob’ly charm the knickers off her yerself!” Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d give it a whirl, haha! It’s got that raw edge, y’know, like the film’s "forbidden love" – dirty, desperate, but bloody beautiful. Makes me wanna howl at the moon, mate.

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The town center is a mishmash of old stone stomping and modern f*ckery. There’s Parc du Château, a lush green bastion. People go there for a breather – if you’re not an idiot sandwich gawkin’ at your phone, that is. I love sittin’ there, just soaking in the vibes, lettin’ the natural beauty wash over me, like Terrence Malick whisperin’ sweet nature secrets into my ear.

Ile-de-France Tramway Line 10 (T10), France