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About Bordeaux

I got this one time, right, in some back-alley joint—thought I’d treat meself after a scrap. This bird’s hands were magic, I’m tellin’ ya, like she’s tryna seduce me spine! Then she whispers, “Relax, big man,” and I’m like, “Fuck me, I’m in Brooklyn heaven!”—y’know, that line, “I’d forgotten what this town looks like”? Pure bliss, mate. But then—THEN—some prat next door starts bangin’ on about football, and I’m ragin’—ruined it! Wanted to yell, “Shut yer gob, you muppet!” Coulda throttled him, swear down.

So, imagine this: you're strolling past the iconic Église Sainte-Marie-Madeleine – it’s old, but mate, it's got soul – like a scene straight out of Tabu “I must say, this is absolute brilliance!” and every moment feels like déjà vu. I often get lost in my own thoughts, just soaking in the atmosphere. And speaking of soaking up, oh man, the sunsets over the Mediterranean? Unreal. I swear, sometimes I just wanna stand, stare, and go: "This is it, this is life."

restaurant coopératif - Made in Marseille