V for truly empty. Verrines of wave to the soul for absent greenery, dead valleys, hollow slopes. My opinion is that it is better to aim for cities in L to wash away the boredom. Vade Retro Vélizy, you are not worth a painting by Vermeer or Van Gogh. The French are calves, we are advised: in truth, they live where they can.
Viva Vesoul, out of the vineyards of nearby Burgundy and which has been empty of its guests since the 1980s. Vroum voum do the cars flying in the distance towards living horizons. A wise decision.
You wanted to see Vierzon, and we saw Vierzon. Here, we put water in his wine. Twenty thousand inhabitants, a city not too much in the wind from which we like to set sail by taking the Vib, the local transport network. Pray for no damage to the track.
Near Vélizy where I swallowed snakes during twenty hours of French refresher courses for a certain Vincent who wanted to do everything except his homework. Twenty minutes to evacuate to the TGV, twenty euros an hour (greed), was it worth it?
5. City of Avray
Experiencing a holiday in Ville d’Avray is like going to a wild rave without being drunk and without valium. It is unlivable.
Towards Soissons, without a weapon, nor Aisne, but with violence, we turn towards Villers and aim for the heart. Really ? Yes really, it is better to avoid living further in a city that makes you want to vituperate and pack your bags to leave. We go into the wasteland and pan.
Born under the sign of the V, vociferated the Klub des Losers. Unwilling to speak ill, the old bourgeois who come to end their days in Versailles are not worth the detour. Dilapidated buildings, Building sites, live my shitty life, take the viaticum and get out. Vertigo of boredom.
22 this is Valmy. A village in a valley and a revolutionary battle. Past times, stationary times, here we live in the spirals of a void where the future is invisible. Inverted time: we look to the past, we dream of what we have already experienced.
Escape to Varennes: a vanished dream. Notice to anti-revolutionaries: anyone condemned to live in Varennes-en-Argonne will be headless. You have to know how to tighten the screw.
Come Vidi Gingham. In town, only old people. Before eighty, one is destined to live with shutters closed in villas riddled with shards of glass. Truthful: from the invigorating waters to the virgin roads via the banks of the Alliers, everything is clean. No din, no life, the boredom is total.
Sylvie Vartan wanted to play her old hits there but found the door closed. He was ordered to evacuate.
When you have the approval of your supervisor for your transfer to Vaulx-en-Velin, you generally draw a face 6 versts long. The cow ! Vaulx-en-Velin, is it a valve? We take his jacket, we quickly make a decision and we send everything flying. No way we become Vaudais.
Before Vichy, there was Verdun. Hour of glory of an old-timer whose versatility for political purposes has not escaped anyone. Let’s not drift on the past, finally! Twenty-four months of wanting to kill the other, a city decorated but now a vestige, nothing. No activity, except foreign visits. We survive as we can.
There are the pro-Vitrolles that we swallow at the restaurant and Vitrolles that we have trouble swallowing. Formerly FN city become city not FN, evacuated from the news, what an insult! The renovations did not make the city attractive. I admit, I am bad language of viper.
Even without V, Cholet overtakes them all.