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#holidays in France
livesunique · 6 months
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Vaux-le-Vicomte Castle, Maincy, France
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annoushka66 · 2 years
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Eze
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vintagepromotions · 14 days
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'In all skies'
Air France travel poster (1935). Artwork by Roger de Valerio.
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Christmas in France
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Paris - France (Del T)
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annajewelsphotography · 4 months
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Colmar - France (by Anna Jewels (@earthpeek))
https://www.instagram.com/earthpeek/
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diogeneswannabe · 4 months
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This tweet is peak French culture lmao
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"We're not even hyped up for the sports we just want to see how catastrophic it's gonna be, it's gonna be peak entertainment lmaoo"
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destroyedchild · 1 month
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sir20 · 1 month
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Collioure by sir20
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camilledecussac · 2 months
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lilyrizzy · 1 year
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jealous max who won’t let himself come off jealous but failing my beloved… an essential headcanon in these times lol. also reassuring daniel…
"You are still coming to Monaco, yes?"
It's the third time in just as many days that Max has asked him this. Over phonecalls that he initiated too. It's- Strange. Normally, getting ahold of him while they're in different places is impossible. Daniel once downloaded fucking discord in a desperate attempt to check his boyfriend really was just too busy on the sim and not like, dying in some corner of their apartment.
"Max, of course I am coming," Daniel tells him. For the third time. Then, because hopefully it will remind Max that he can't exactly get out of it- "It's in my contract, remember?"
Instead of the reasuring 'of course,' Daniel is expecting, followed by a mile a minute play-by-play of his charity race on Sunday, there's silence.
Or, at least no words from Max's mouth. Daniel can hear him breathing, the soft drag and drop of air, the rustling of sheets. It's easy then for Daniel to picture him shifting in their bed, and the familiar ache of missing him blooms in his chest.
"Maxy?"
"You can, of course, probably get out of it," Max says after another pause, voice casual in a way Daniel knows him well enough to have nicknamed his 'fuck the media' voice.
Why do you think you have crashed so many times this year, Max?
"Why would I do that?" Daniel asks with a startled laugh. Then, "come on, don't you miss me?"
Their joke that never quite felt it, not when Daniel has had so many things to miss over the last few years. Max, when they're apart. Family. Driving. The version of himself he used to see mirrored in Max's eyes as he watched Daniel climb up onto that top step.
It's even less funny now, when Max asks like he really is uncertain, "I don't know. Do you miss me?"
"Of course I do, baby," Daniel insists, sitting up from where he's been sprawled out on his back, the shitty pillows of the hotel bed too hard. He doesn't know where this is going, but he knows it's nowhere good.
There's more quiet, just the sound of Max wriggling. If Daniel was there, he could roll himself into Max's lap, hold his wrists above his head. Kiss him, tell him he's not letting him go until he turns that frown upside down.
Over the phone, all he can do is wait. Say his name again, until-
"You just- With Scotty, I think you have more fun. Than with me."
Max's voice is small, but his words knock the breath from Daniel's chest.
"Max," is all he can croak out for a moment, unsure of how to fix this.
Clutting the phone harder with one hand, his other comes stupidly to his mouth, knawing. In his mind, he tries to retrace his steps, to work out how they got here, but he knows he and Scotty have been hanging out a lot. And-
And there's some truth to it, Daniel can't lie. It's just not in the way Max thinks. It's not a question of fun, more-
"Sometimes, I just need- I don't know baby, to get away from it all," he rushes to explain around his bleeding nail bed, hating that all has to mean Max too. "The reminders that I'm not driving. That- That I failed."
Scotty is good for talking about everything but. His one good friend that never came with him to every fucking race, wasn't employed because of his career. Didn't see every crack, tear and scream that way Michael, Blake, Max did.
Somebody he can still be Danny Ric with, when he's sick of being Daniel Ricciardo, washed up and left out to dry.
"You did not fail," Max says, petulant, and Daniel doesn't deserve the smile he can't quite bite back, the way Max defends him even against himself. "You- I love you. I do not want to be something you need to run away from. It- It frightens me, feeling not so close."
Daniel is such a cunt.
"We are close," he insists, desperate, because they have to be. This can't be another thing he loses. "We- I'm going to get in the car and drive home right now, and show you how close we are. I'm going lie on top of you, squash you until we become one person, I- Fuck, Maxy, I'm sorry. I love you too, you- You know that, right, that I love you?"
To his relief, Max lets out a noise that's close to laugh, though it sounds wet like he's crying and Daniel wants to wring his own neck.
Instead, he gets up and starts packing.
"Yes?" Max says, checking. "Even if I remind you of all the bad things."
Daniel shakes his head though Max can't see, pausing where he'd been shoving his wallet into his pocket.
"Maxy, you are all champagne showers," he promises, and sometimes he can lie when he's sure that one day soon it will be the truth. "Champagne showers and Monday lie-ins. Just- Fuck it, I'll drive back in my PJ's, just give me a few hours, yeah?"
"You are coming home?" Max asks, hopeful through his tears.
Daniel so badly wants to kiss him.
"Yeah, baby, I'm coming home."
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transgenbur · 17 days
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wait so. americans. are you trying to tell me that on days like july 4th or december 31st, if its not a weekend you're. supposed to go to work???????
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vintagepromotions · 2 months
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Travel poster for Dieppe - merely three hours away from Paris and five from London - featuring a sunset view of the town and the historic Chateau de Dieppe (1910). Artwork by Georges Dorival.
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blackswaneuroparedux · 10 months
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So recently I was listening to one of my favourite podcasts while on a business trip by train through the Swiss Alps to Zurich. 'The Rest Is History' hosted historians Dominic Sandbrook and Tom Holland were quite topical talking about France under de Gaulle and the student riots of 1968 as well as its legacy towards France’s current troubles with civil disorder.
The recent riots starting in Nanterre and beyond were troubling and significant. However outsiders not knowing the French or their culture and history thought it was either the fall of the Fifth Republic or start of the collapse of Western civilisation itself. It was nothing of the sort. For the most part the French think it healthy to blow off steam and have a jolly good riot in the same way people in England blow off steam by writing an angry letter to the editor of the Times. It’s just how things are. As predicted, things have gotten quiet now.
In their podcast Sandbrook and Holland cheekily suggested that the fizzling out of les evénéments – the student protests of 1968, during which it seemed that another of France’s periodic revolutions might ignite - had something to do with the Whitsun holidays. Realising that their Parisian parents were setting off for their holiday homes in the French countryside or the southern coast, the elitist student leaders put down their high minded revolutionary leftist philosophical slogans aside for the bourgeois comfort of vacances en famille. There is a lot of truth to that.
All this is to say les grandes vacancies have already begun in France. The grand vacation of July and August is an entrenched tradition in the French psyche. So ingrained is this tradition that until 2015 there were regulations still in place dating back to the French revolution that governed when bakers in Paris could take their holidays, so as not to deprive the city’s populace of their daily bread (not quite baguette, because that was invented later by the Austrians camped out in the Champs de Mars after the fall of Napoleon - but that’s another story).  
That France is in the middle of les grandes vacances can be seen here in Paris. Parisians are leaving their apartments and heading out to the countryside or down south to the Med - to be offfeeling handedly rude and entitled towards the locals. Schools have been closed since June. Many shops are closed or not nearly as crowded as usual, most of the people wandering the streets have cameras around their necks. Of course not everyone goes and those that stay can feel freer until the first glut of tourists arrive.
For many France in August is definitely their favourite time of the year. And every summer I’m reminded just how much French language and culture are inseparable by the fact that there are words for people who take their annual vacation in July, les juillettistes, or in August, les aoûtiens.
Most French people have 5 weeks of paid vacation per year, and some have even more time off with the inclusion of their RTTs (essentially, personal days) for those who work more than 35 hours per week. I work close to 80 hours a week, so I'm ready for my break from the corporate treadmill.
So my blog will be shut down for the rest of the summer as I go away on vacation. I’ll be back in early September.
I use this time to switch off my phone and strictly no social media as I go off grid. It's a question of valuing one's mental health. I hope you can do the same.
Thank you for following my blog and appreciating my eclectic posts.
I wish you all the best.
Have a great summer!
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citizen-card · 6 months
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at least half of the cps spent their christmas in the world’s most toxic work environment
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do you think they did a secret santa /j
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annajewelsphotography · 7 months
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Colmar - France (by Anna Jewels (@earthpeek))
https://www.instagram.com/earthpeek/
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