Club Med

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It’s been a few years since yours truly last took a Club Med holiday.

Back then the Internet was called Teletext, Pitt The Younger was Prime Minister and Bill Wilson was in his early fifties.

In those days, Club Med jaunts consisted of a seven day ordeal, eating chip sandwiches for breakfast, with sunburnt Brummie sociopaths inside a broiling concrete cube near the Kavos County Jail. Probably.

These days, they’re rather more upmarket – taking in ski holidays, people without criminal records and even doing the odd bit of natty outdoor advertising.

I spotted the below on a pillar in Liverpool Street station – the angle of which is suspiciously similar to a ski slope.

20130120-204812.jpg

Pretty cool.

PB

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