Monty P

While I was in Montpellier, (pronounced Monpullier) Monty P as I now fondly call it, I called the little flat I lived in home. I'd say things like "I'll just make some pasta when I get home" or "I've left my tram pass at home." But now when I say I'm home, I mean home. My cosy little apartment, full of my own things with Mr.K in Leeds, England. It's substantially colder here. And windier. Much, much windier. But I'll stay here anyway and still happily call it home.


My month in Montpellier was a blast. A blast of French language, French culture, sunshine, making new friends, taking photos, hugs and bisous from the cuties in my class, 3 chocolat chauds, 2 crepes and 2 nutella covered waffles, skyping (skyping was my miracle when I was missing Mr.K a lot), visiting Lyon and seeing Grays and Boome, teaching French children English songs, laughing at them when they sing Katy Perry and Pink then laughing even more when they accidentally sing 'raise your ass' instead of 'raise your glass'. I had lots of good times in Monty P. 


Now, on to the photos. Some of the photos. 

Warning: This piece of information will blow your mind.
This is painted! That's right, painted!