Unfortunately, St. Martin’s days of skunk oil baths and fly-infested galette came to an abrupt end on June 6, 1822.
I hung back, wanting to savor my first glimpse. Would it be worth the aches and pains I’d surely feel tomorrow?
Hot steamy water flowed into six private bathing chambers, each tricked out with its own Cialis-style tub, but despite these painstaking efforts, a soldier’s hygiene was a dodgy business.
My brother also picked up on the manor house vibe after a white-knuckle drive—that included a standoff with a tour bus—through the narrow twists and turns of the highlands.
The 1970s ushered in Pong, shag carpeting, and the Brady Bunch. Paneling filled our basements and the design team at Oldsmobile thought it would class up our cars too.
The Deluxe Roadster's swooping fenders and bug-eyed headlights give this vintage beauty a Chitty Chitty Bang Bang vibe. It’d be a thrill to take it out for a truly scrumptious spin or in true Chitty Chitty style, a flight over the Bavarian Alps.
A tour through this literal boneyard is a chilling adventure. The musty air, shadowy tunnels, constant drip drip of water, and stacks upon stacks of neatly arranged human bones are enough to give the most daring a serious case of the willies.
Climb atop the magic base, strike a Madonna-style pose (vogue, vogue), and you will be transformed into a living sculpture.