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About Lille

I’d saunter up, all awkward, like, “Hey, uh, you workin’?” She’d laugh—*laugh*!—right in my face. “What’s a preacher want with me?” she’d say, and I’d be pissed, like, “Don’t stereotype me, lady!” But also kinda happy ‘cause she’s sharp—sharper than me, probs. Fun fact: back in the 1800s, some prostitutes were called “soiled doves”—ain’t that poetic? She’s a dove, I’m a dork, perfect match.

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Today, I am bringing a privately owned farm with a 2-hour loop track called the Washpen Falls track. 80 kilometres West of Christchurch, you.

Man, what a day! I woke up in Revin, and I swear, I thought it was just gonna be another chill day. But nah, life had other plans. First off, I hit the streets of Rue de la République, and it was like a scene from a movie. People everywhere, cars honking, and the smell of fresh baguettes wafting through the air. I mean, who doesn’t love a good baguette, right?

Calling all cooks and car lovers