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About Marseille

This one gal, she’s smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a wall. Eyes sharp, like she’s sizin’ me up. Reminds me of Dennis Haysbert in the movie—quiet, knows too much. “What’s your name, doll?” I grunt. “Candy,” she says, smirkin’. Candy! Hate cutesy names. But she’s got grit, no tears, no “I can’t go on” nonsense. Straight to business—respect that. Told her, “Keep it quick, I got wood to chop.” She laughs, husky, real. Surprised me—thought she’d be all fake giggles.

The beach, man, it's unreal. I hit the grand Plage des Sables for an early morning walk. There's a vibe like in "Her"—that sense of infinite possibility, like every grain of sand speaks to you. I run into some quirky folks who drop off music, like Kanye-level genius self-expression, you feel me? Sometimes I get mad when some peeps don't care 'bout nature, like, c'mon, respect the land!

How to follow the New York Vendée Les Sables d'Olonne Race