There are a few people that read this that know the idea of a chav-free holiday is possibly the worst kind of torture that could be inflicted upon me.

Yes, it’s true — I have a soft spot for chavs. It stems from my time at university when the off-campus accommodation was right in the middle of a big council estate (public/social housing, for the non-Brits). As I walked up to my girlfriend-at-the-time’s house, I would thus be immersed into a world of… chavs. Pregnant teenagers. Pregnant teenagers pushing their  prams (baby carriage). Teenage boys playing football, with a joint hanging out of their emaciated lips.

But most importantly… those 16 year old girls, in sports gear, looking oh-so yummy.

Croydon facelift too... yummy.

Croydon facelift too... yummy.

So this fantastic little radio snippet came as a bit of a shock: Radio 5 Live Breakfast. Don’t get me wrong, it’s very funny, but it is my idea of hell on Earth. I like my Britneys, thankyouverymuch.

I’ve also added a few more photos to my Turkey page (the country), and a cheesy self-portrait that makes me look a bit like David Copperfield. I’ll finish the story later too, so check back!

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Let's start at the very beginning
And so there I was, in the Grand Bazaar...

Sebastian

I am a tall, hairy, British writer who blogs about technology, photography, travel, and whatever else catches my eye.

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