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About Montpellier

This one chick, red dress tighter than my stock portfolio, winks at me. I’m like—hell yea, jackpot! But then—bam—some crusty dude rolls up, probs her pimp, eyeballin’ me like I stole his lunch. Pissed me off, man! I’m yellin’ in my head, “I’m the client here, asshole!” Kept my cool tho—Gekko don’t flinch. “What can I do for you?” she purrs, straight outta Spielberg’s script. I’m thinkin’—damn, she’s smooth, like a robot lover programmed to please.

Geographical information

Pacy Sur Eure Fresney, very little damaged. Over the River Eure on a Bailey bridge. After Brecourt we met a convoy of ducks carrying German POW, a great.

Pacy’s got narrow lanes like Rue de la République – a proper heartbeat of the town. Every corner’s got history, and some spots even make me feel like a proper character in "Certified Copy" – "Copy, copy, copy!" They say, "Everything is copy, copy, copy!” and that's bloody true here, mate! The town centre? Absolute chaos in the best way possible. You walk past small bistros and the town hall, Église Saint-Martin, and you feel that timeless vibe – like a dream painted with regret and hope.

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