In April I rented a little studio apartment here ...

...with a courtyard that looked like this ...

... on a street that looked like this ...

... with ever-changing markets that looked like this ...

... for some sort of charming, introspective, existential, self-seeking quest.

Because apparently I thought that at some point in my life I had somehow gotten lost on the streets of a 2000-year-old French mediterranean town.

I did find several notable things during my trip:

1) A giant copy of "The Little Prince" ....

... which motivated me to buy a much smaller copy of "The Little Prince" and read it.

2)The Pont D'Avignon, which, in case you were wondering, I did not dance in a circle on, because it cost five euros to do so, and a strawberry eclair and a bottle of wine seemed like a much better use of my foreign currency than the innaccurate reenactment of a childhood folk song (for the record, the original lyrics were "SOUS le pont," which I was also not particularly interested in doing. What with the water and all.) ...

I am still looking for the other half ...

3) The EXACT middle-aged Frenchman that Quebeckers are picturing when someone says the word Speedo ...

4) Babybels the size of ... uhhh ... iPhones ...

5) Without out doubt, the most disturbing T-shirt/T-shirt-wearer combination ever ...

6) Followed closely by the most disturbing door knocker ever ...

7) And, most importantly, Borat's vacation home ..

Note of interest, the name is apparently spelled with two 'R's in French ...

It was an interesting, insightful, challenging trip, but in the end, I'm pretty sure I didn't get lost on the streets of a 2000-year-old French mediterranean town.

I think I will continue the search in Amsterdam next ...

Oh man.

This place is so, so wrong.

OK, first things first, Lanette's advice to "find the sluttiest clothes you own, and then slut them up by a factor of ten" is, while somewhat indelicate, pretty accurate. The clothing here is so little, and so short, and so sparkly, and hair so coiffed, and heels so high, and makeup so heavy, that, unless you have made an appearance on the Jerry Springer Episode "Mom, I'm a Hooker," you will look like, and consequently feel like, the equivalent of a nun on an Antarctica mission trip.

Seriously, I started the trip wearing a skirt with leggings, a tank top and a sweater over top. By the time I got from the airport to the hotel the leggings and sweater were long gone. By the end of the trip, the tank top was a dress.

Secondly, this entire place is made to prey on every weakness known to even the most virtuous of human beings. Jason told me I had to put a quarter in the first slot machine I saw. Which was about 20 metres from the gate at the airport. Every sidewalk on the strip is designed to feed you right into the heart of the windowless, clockless, oxygenated casinos where the goal is to keep you in one of two states: drunk or deliriously optimistic. Or preferably both.

Thirdly ... wait, what was I saying? Did someone say they give away free booze? Where? Everywhere? Even at ten in the morning on my way down to the pool? Wait, what? I just put my money in this machine, and then pull the lever and more money comes out! Oh my god it works! Oh, wait. That totally didn't work for you. too bad. Huh? The weather forecast is WHAT? Forty degrees celcius and clear blue sky EVERY SINGLE DAY OF THE YEAR? And there's a wave pool? And a fake beach? And they will bring frozen dacquiris right to my lounge chair? Yes, of course I will have the chocolate chip Creme de Menthe oreo milkshake with my lunch. Say what? There's a buffet that has Kobe beef sirloin, and crab legs and 27 different desserts? Why yes, I WILL go ahead and try each one. That seems like a GREAT idea. Umm, is that a Jean Phillipe Chocolate Shop? Hells yes it is! Hey look, I'm in New York! Hey look, I'm in Venice! Giggle! Hiccup. O! I love Cirque de Soleil! OMG, that was amazing! Wait, what? If I give you $40, then you will give me 200 hundred of these little chips that don't look anything like real money and I pick some numbers and watch a ball roll and if I guess the right number than I will 35 times the chips I put on that number, and then someone will give me REAL money in exchange? Oh my god, that sounds like SO MUCH FUN! And completely sensible! Why thank you, Adam from Texas, your compliments on this sparkly shirt I am wearing are very sweet. Wait, I can take my drink and walk down the street to another hotel where I am not staying, and then they will give me another drink? I should totally get a tattoo. It's what time? 4 a.m.? That seems like a perfectly reasonable time to order nachos from room service. Yes, we should definitely put those nachos in the elevator.

Wait. Wasn't I saying something before? Something about how the heart of the casinos are deliriously virtuous or something ...

So yeah. This place is so, so wrong.

You know. In that way that, say, eating too much chocolate, or spending too long at the spa, or having too much sex is wrong.

And now, for those who are mildly frightened by the number of words in the above section, and mentally fatigued by the corresponding energy required to process said composition, here is the visual interpretation ...

Did someone say they give away free booze? Where? Everywhere? Even at ten in the morning on my way down to the pool?

Wait, what? I just put my money in this machine, and then pull the lever and more money comes out! Oh my god it works!

Oh, wait. That totally didn't work for you. too bad.

Huh? The weather forecast is WHAT? Forty degrees celcius and clear blue sky EVERY SINGLE DAY OF THE YEAR?

And there's a wave pool? And a fake beach? And they will bring frozen dacquiris right to my lounge chair?

Yes, of course I will have the chocolate chip Creme de Menthe oreo milkshake with my lunch.

Say what? There's a buffet that has Kobe beef sirloin, and crab legs and 27 different desserts? Why yes, I WILL go ahead and try each one.

That seems like a GREAT idea.

Umm, is that a Jean Phillipe Chocolate Shop?

Hells yes it is!

Hey look, I'm in New York!

Hey look, I'm in Venice!

Giggle! Hiccup.

O! I love Cirque de Soleil!

OMG, that was amazing! !

Wait, what? If I give you $40, then you will give me 200 hundred of these little chips that don't look anything like real money and I pick some numbers and watch a ball roll and if I guess the right number than I will 35 times the chips I put on that number, and then someone will give me REAL money in exchange? Oh my god, that sounds like SO MUCH FUN! And completely sensible!

Why thank you, Adam from Texas, your compliments on this sparkly shirt I am wearing are very sweet.

Wait, I can take my drink and walk down the street to another hotel where I am not staying, and then they will give me another drink?

I should totally get a tattoo.

It's what time? 4 a.m.? That seems like a perfectly reasonable time to order nachos from room service.

Yes, we should definately put these nachos in the elevator.

My toes are painted, the most scandalous clothes I own are packed and my pennies are ready ...

Yes. I am really bringing all the pennies from my penny jar (I conveniently have about 3 kilos of American pennies collected over six years of living in Alaska ... ) to use in the penny slots.

And yes. It's true that the most scandalous clothes I own is limited to a full-coverage push-up bra, a slightly low cut v-neck T-shirt and a really long tank top that could possibly pass as a dress.

And yes. I did photoshop my toes since I haven't waxed my legs for my trip yet. In case you were wondering. It now crosses my mind that you probably were not.

Yeah. Ummmmm. Kinda busy right now. I'll get back to you ... later.

Last night we got to Cesana Pariol, home of the 2006 Torino Olympics bob and skeleton track. We have a few days before we start sliding, and my coach and I walked around town, stopping in at the little information centre. I about fell over with excitement when I discovered they had one of the Olympic torches there on a stand in the window.

Do I even need to mention that when I picked up the torch, the metal stand that it sat in slipped off and fell to the tiled floor with what can only be described as a hurry-up-and-take-the-picture-eveyone-is-looking-at-us-and-it's-not-because-we-are-cute clatter.

Sigh. Leave it to me.

But, hey, I look good with a torch, don't I?