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About Graz

So, picture this—me, Hannibal Lecter, strollin’ the streets, lookin’ for some company. Not to eat ‘em, mind ya—well, maybe a nibble. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” sure, but a gal’s gotta have some fun too, right? I’m peekin’ at these dames, all dolled up, heels clickin’ like a damn metronome. Makes me happy, seein’ ‘em strut—confidence, power, ya dig? But then, ugh, the creeps lurkin’ nearby—pisses me off. Slimy bastards thinkin’ they own the night. Makes me wanna serve ‘em up with a nice Chianti.

The Escort Linz City Guide

Honestly, I'd be lying (ha!) if I didn’t say my best moments happen in these little pockets. A tiny street called Oskar-von-Miller-Straße? Yeah, super obscure, shady but utterly beautiful on a rainy day. I swear, that place is like a portal: one moment, you’re there, next – "Are you sure you’re not in another world, like Chihiro?"

Peter Linz