The virgin of Capbreton stands close to entrance to the port and watches over sailors entering the wild waters of Biscay. I once nearly became a born again virgin in Capbreton when I got screaming nob rot, couldnt wee without fear of child labour-like agony in my old boy, and had to police up my tackle for about a year. But I got better, and now my fella and gones are doing just great. Anyway, I miss that place. It’s been nearly 3 months since I saw the virgin. Here’s a little clip from Pietro of Wade Goodall‘s recent shred affair in Capb that has made me all homesick. I noticed there’s some fresh ‘graff’ on the bunkers. God, I love graff. I think I might hire that guy to come a do a ‘piece’ in my lounge or bedroom when I get back. Sick. It’s so… ‘urban.’ I’d get it floor to ceiling on the wall next where all my awesome ‘Banksy’s’ are hanging. God I love ‘Banksy’. Apparently my mate was once nearly in the same bar as him, ‘back in the day’… how crazy is that?!?