Well I took me a deep breath and I counted to three, I’m nothing at all like I wanted to be.

October 28, 2010 § Leave a comment

– David Ford

Originally written evening after first night in Monte Carlo 

Lazarus Lazarus, why all the tears?”

Milk ThistleConor Oberst and the Mystic Valley band.

I woke up in the mid morning sun out to sea, on the deck of the anchored “Paddy Valentine”, a 45 foot sea cruising boat with kitchens and bed rooms, it was truly a work of art, I wasn’t used to such splendour. I was under a blanket with the tambourine girl at the bow, is the bow? The pointy bit at the front, as you might have guessed I don’t come from a proud sea faring tradition. I was fully dressed in my clothes from last night while she had changed into a bikini. We hadn’t had sex I hasten to add, we were too tired and drunk, we just sat, talked, kissed and watched the sun come up before we went to sleep. She could really play guitar and she knew her music too. She was most pleasant company indeed. It was her fathers’ boat and she had invited us back to it after our last song. We drank together then the separate groups tailed off. I think Maxi and Moss were downstairs, lets just say that last night I think they both laid in the lap of luxury. I had nicknamed her “Misses Tambourine Woman” Obviously due to the tambourine but also because the boat was named after a character in the Bob Dylan song Hurricane. Also when drunk I have a tendency to forget names. It turns out her father owned a string of Hotels across Europe, including the one those unfortunate boys had gone back too. She was 20 and was on holiday with friends. I had a large amount of respect for her, I loathe the spoilt rich kids, but I understand that it is an easy trap to fall down, so I have a large amount of respect for anyone brought up around piles of money and still has a firm grip on right and wrong, great taste in music and clothes, and is a really good kisser.

She was smiling when I awoke, and we went through to the boats lavish kitchen to make whatever breakfast we could. We put on Ryan Adams Gold and danced around the kitchen like a married couple on a good day, it was sweet. Maxi and his partner joined us soon, both displaying classic sex hair. They had both hit the tequila pretty hard when we got on the boat and were nursing bad hangovers, despite all the bad spirits they had had, they were in good spirits. Mossy immerged next, the pills had put him in one of those funny morning moods, his partner was still asleep. The girls had found some watermelon in one of the many fridges. It was a breakfast that I was used to eating only at festivals because it was cheap, full of vitamins and water. I don’t know why I don’t eat it more often actually, probably because it’s not really something that someone of my age buys. Damn you stereotypes, you will be the death of me. Maxis girl suggested that we take the short sail to the harbour to meet up with the boys again, she joked that she thought that the boys might have thought that we had raped them, killed them and stolen the boat, we all laughed. Miss Tambourine girl set the boat into motion; there was a small motor on the back or helm? I don’t know what it’s called. All I know is she had a big wheel to stand behind and it suited her. Maxis girl was operating one of those pulleys that swings the sails around, at least she knew what she was doing.

We pulled into the harbour around 11.30am local time into a permanently reserved space. As if the boat itself wasn’t testament to the splendour and wealth of the girl’s father he had a permanently reserved spot in the Monte Carlo harbour front.

The goodbyes were lingering. We realised that if we were to continue in on this trip in such a manor then we would have to get good at them. Just a nice clean cut, with a lingering possibility that this would not be the last time we would meet. We met up with the mini and broke from Monte Carlo like a bullet from a gun, our paranoia aided by our hangover told us that it was not wise to take a very wealthy mans yacht out to sea with his teenage daughter and her friends and that it was best we made ourselves scarce. We would leave that princess of the principality to her wealth and effortless charm, the road is calling us, this time to the bright lights and love of Italy.


P.s A note from the Author to you the reader-written today. Listen guys, I know that I only started this site a few days ago and have been putting the diary up from our trip up but I have to say that I’m overwhelmed by the response, I’m not really one for caring about the stats but they say that there’s a lot of you. I just want to say thank you, you guys have been fucking great, more than I would have expected, you guys are the fucking best and it’s nice to know someones actually reading- I swear a lot when I’m grateful. Seriously thank you. I’ve put some sharing options up so it easier to share it around the web. Thank you. 

Kind Regards

Simon Blake ( not the famous one )


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