Au revior!

Well, just mere hours to go now till I embark on an epic train journey to France, giving the Hardcore Tour a touch of much needed class.

We've got euros, we've packed and I have a police photo-fit of two guys who look suspiciously like Flava-flav and Pat Butcher from the Ravman.

I weirdly have a dark sense of forboding about this trip, whether its that I have a long journey ahead, the fact that I'm passing through several crime-ridden cities in the dead of night unable to speak the language in many of them or just that the final destination is France.. something doesn't sit right with me.

I've already received some solid advice;

1) Don't accept any help on the Metro

2) Don't make it obvious you are a foreigner

So, with reluctance I've removed my union flag passport cover, my England football shirt and my drunken imperialistic urges and adopted a cunning disguise to allow me to pass right through undetected, it looks a bit like this;

or more accurately, this;

The problem is that Jonathon Foreigner doesn't like the honourable British Tommy, we don't share many interests for one thing.

They enjoy cheese, and surrendering. We like beer and fighting. We're just natural enemies, so I've informed the British Foreign Office I'm going to be in France and all they suggested to avoid being singled out as a foreigner is "try waving a white flag and not washing".

Sheep offered me some help with communication, teaching me invaluble phrases in French, truly a beautiful language;

"Le Chauffage-centrale ne marchait pas" - "The Central heating is broken"

"il n y avais pas de savons, dans le salle de bain" - "There is no soap in the bathroom"

cheers mate.

I am sure however, that despite my fears, this plan shall all come off without a hitch and I'll have a few epic stories to tell upon my return, for now though I leave you in the capable hands of Ravi until I return.