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About Marseille

Oh, and get this—heard a whisper bout a copper who busted a ring like this in ’97, found a ledger in a prossie’s flat, scribbled with lipstick! Mental, innit? Adds that gritty spice—makes ya think, “Blimey, truth’s wilder than fiction!” So, my take? Steer clear, pal. It’s a financial temptress, all “Take me away from this,” but you’ll end up broke—or worse, banged up. We shall fight the urge, mate—stick to legit stocks!

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Ohhh, and what about the river? Not a mighty one like the Seine, but the Canal de l'Ourcq flows nearby. Its murmur is like soft whispers calling you to be free. My precious! I often stroll along it, questioning, “Where does this river run off to?” Just like in that movie, Amour: "Is this love or is it despair?" Trust me, you’ll get it if you walk enough.

Postcard from Montreuil-sur-Mer: treats for the tastebuds