Sunday 20 May 2012

A forest

A forest by Flytipper
A forest, a photo by Flytipper on Flickr.

Sunday 18 November 2007

Friday 19 October 2007

Refugees from the Monkey Island


Saint Emilion
Originally uploaded by Flytipper
Migrants continue to flood the country, some of them barely speak French. Local people are unable to get hospital beds as english retirees cram the wards enjoying the wine, climate and health care they haven't paid for. In some villages there are hardly any french people left. Entering a busy cafe advertising steak hachette et frittes I shouldered my way past estate agents pinning up notices for fully renovated farm houses (Euro: 250,000) to the bar.

"Deux bier sil vous plaits"

"No problem mate, do you want any food?"

He explains his dad bought him the pub, the whole family has moved from West Yorkshire to rural France, "we're looking at build a driving range for golfers".

As fast as people are flooding into England to make money, the English are flooding out. Intoxicated with high property prices and post Thacherite-zeal we are fanning out through Europe. For years we've been decaying on the Costas, now we're silting up newly built Bulgarian beach resorts, buying up smack squats in Berlin and golf coursing over France.

Tuesday 29 May 2007

Tower from old town hall, Rynek Główny, Krakow

Mariacki Church, Rynek Główny, Krakow

Polish mulled wine


Polish mulled wine
Originally uploaded by Flytipper

The Christmas market had certainly been more intense than I had bargined for. My drinking and staying out late days have been well behind me for the last couple of years. The market itself is much like any other central European Christmas market. Tasteful toys, clothes and food sold from stalls. It was late Sunday afternoon and the throngs of people were what was causing me problems! Feeling distinctly ill I had to make my excuses and head back to the hotel, leaving B looking worried. Edging across the square I was almost sick on the shoes of a duo of patroling policemen. Halfway down Wiślna everything suddenly became more stable. "Pull yourself together" I told myself, "stiff upper lip", I marched back into the centre of Krakow.