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About Lille

First off, this car—man, it’s basic as hell. Born in ‘81, Ford said, “Let’s slap some wheels on a shoebox!” And bam, Escort hit the streets, cheap, ugly, but loyal—like that friend who’s broke but shows up anyway. I’m talkin’ 1.6-liter engine, sputterin’ like an old man coughin’, but it hauled ass for the everyman. Gas mileage? Sweet lord, it sipped fuel like a nun sips wine—30, 40 miles a gallon, savin’ pennies in the ‘80s when gas prices had folks sweatin’.

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I gotta mention the local market near Boulevard du Général de Gaulle. It’s loud, chaotic, and full of life. I mean, you can find fresh cheese, local wines, and even a stray baguette or two. Sometimes, I sip my espresso and laugh thinking, "What a f--in’ beautiful mess, huh?"

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