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About Manaus

I roll up – slow. Window down – heart RACIN’. This chick – she’s there. Leanin’ on a pole. Skirt so short – Jesus! I’m like – “Hey, darlin’!” She turns – BOOM. Eyes like Marion in the movie. Strung out – but ALIVE. “What’s your price?” I say. She smirks – “50 bucks, cowboy.” I laugh – COWBOY? Me? A freakin’ FORESTER!

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I must confess – living here has rubbed off on me in more ways than one. Often, in between kneading those stubborn knots, I marvel at Bayeux’s mix of ancient charm, modern cheek, and spontaneous bursts of madness. It warms me heart, makes me mad sometimes (when the pigeons invade the square, I mean – bah, those cheeky buggers!). My quirky profession has me witness the city’s pulse up close – each muscle twitch and every whispered secret in the back alley teaches me: Bayeux (br) is pulsating with life, messy and miraculous!

Historians butt heads over number of penises embroidered into Bayeux Tapestry