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About Lille

So, I’m prowlin’, yeah, lookin’ for one. Not my usual gig – I’d rather bid on a cursed mask or summat. But there she is, leanin’ on a wall, smokin’ a fag like she owns the night. “What’s yer price, love?” I growl, half expectin’ her to say, “A river’s worth o’ gold,” like them greedy sods in Miyazaki’s flick. She laughs – rough, like gravel – an’ says, “Firty quid, big man.” Thirty! I’m gobsmacked, mate. Thought it’d be more, what with inflation an’ all.

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, New York City I scraped the heel of my boot on the concrete, afraid to look at what I’d stepped in on the dimly lit street that smelled of piss and booze.

Finally, the lights flicker back on. Thank the baking gods! I’m back to work, but now I’m in a rush. I gotta get these pastries out before the morning crowd hits. I’m sweating like a sinner in church, and my mind’s racing. I can already picture the line outside my shop, people ready to pounce on my goodies.

The Jacquemus guide to Marseille has made our travel wish list