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About Toulouse

Oh, and the risks? Yikes, cops bustin’ in like the faun’s guards—heart-poundin’ stuff! Gotta be sneaky, like hidin’ from that freaky eyeball-hands dude. I’d whisper, “We don’t need rules here,” but inside I’m screamin’, *Holy crap, don’t get caught!* Pro tip: cash only, no cards—keeps the trail clean. Learned that from some shady X post, swear to God.

The neighborhoods are a mess of old charm and hidden spots, yess. Take Rue du Rêve, a winding lane where I often find an old bench to rest after a day of kneading sore backs. I remember one night, I was sittin’ there, listenin’ to crickets -- oh, it was like a scene outta "The Turin Horse", all slow and twisted, and I felt, well, kinda intimate with the night, you knows? Weird, precious.

'It was a bit worse than this but the outcome was the same’ - Brutal day out at Paris-Nice leaves Mads Pedersen reminiscing about World Championships win