Footy, Fosters and French Females;

Two days ago, on a wet windy morning, out in the distance, appeared a man. Bodyboard under the arm, bag in his hand, obviously lost, and the unmistakable mini mohawk of Mathew Christopher Grylls. Fresh from 25 hours flying and completely jet lagged he staggered over, handed me a footy, two tubes of vegemite, a packet of Arnotts shapes and greeted me in true aussie style, with a nod of the head and a "Gday Mate".

Headed back to the apartement, cracked a couple of Fosters,

and headed to the Grand Plage for a quick kick before the sun finally set; 10:30pm.

Spent the past couple of days touring town, taking in the sites

and introducing Gryllz to the "Bretone" speciality of crepes;

We even ran into this bloke;

And Gryllz just loves taking photos;

Yesterday I started work at "The Players" Pub and Pizzeria; a sweet bar on the beach at the Grand Plage. After knocking off around 9:30 we still had enough time for Gryllz and I to get a surf in under the beach lights before it became too dark. But none of that could beat the trip down to the Newquay at 1pm to watch a bit of live music from some sweet local guitarists; busting out a few well known tunes including a few aussie classics.

One of the frustrating things of the dealing in Euro is that they still have 1 and 2 cent pieces; which fill up your wallet with the barely valuable shrapnel. So with the photos sent by Chloe of Benji Stratton evading some heavy tackling we set up the;
Benny Stratton Shrapnel Fund;

Tommorow night we're off to San Sebastian in Spain, to eat some Tapas, drink some cheap local brews, talk to Spanish women and maybe even watch a bull fight. Keep you posted;

Garrett in Biarritz;