a big old slice of holiday heaven

Sometimes in life (if you're super-lucky and the gods of good karma are shining cheerfully upon you from on high), you'll get to experience a niche brand of holiday heaven I like to call Killer Airbnb-ing. It's important to note that this cosmic feast doesn't come along too often, so if or when it does, make sure you book the shit out of that location pronto. And I mean SNAP. IT. UP. 

Why? Well, let me present you with my most recent and abundant case of god-tier airbnbing – the most remote and idyllic slice of pure freakin' GOLD in the south of France. For real, if anyone wants to hire me to help unearth the golden location eggs lurking on Airbnb – I'm taking applications (and could really do with the £££).

I can wholeheartedly say the ONLY downside of this saucy little poolside haven was that the nearest bar/restaurant/nirty hotspot was a good 20 minute Uber away. And as much as I'd like to pretend I can confine myself to an entire week of solitude and serenity in the mountains, we all know I bloody love a good drink and spot of people watching. So this blissful little hideaway was essentially an extended pre-drink location prior to the daily Uber ride and bar crawl round town. Kinda shits on Wetherspoons, right? 


(*inconspicuous hot fella in yellow shorts not included)

Now THAT's outta the way (super crazy location #goals, amiright?), it pains me to say that I've now got a grand total of 0 upcoming holidays booked. A very sad, sorry state of affairs. One I've not really dealt with since as long as I've earned enough money to spend on Easyjet flights each month. So, please keep fingers (and legs and eyes) crossed that I can coax the significant bloke in my life into a bit of winter sunshine in October...

In the meantime, come and have a chat with me on Twitter. If it's not Monday, I won't bite. 

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