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About Namur

Angry bit? Ugh, the pimps, slimy gits! Hoverin’ like wraiths, takin’ their cut—makes me wanna claw somethin’. But happy? When ye find one who’s real, chats a bit, not all cold—warms me rotten heart. Surprised me once, this lass told me she’d read Tolkien—ha! Nearly fell over, I did. “Gollum’s me fave,” she says. Cheeky minx!

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Now, let me spill some tea: I’ve seen folks cry, laugh, and even go bonkers over silly stuff here. As a women's counselor, I watch mysteries unfold along every cracked pavement of Neerpelt. Some days, I get mad—like when I see the same graffiti on de Tolstraat yet again, over and over, as if it’s the city’s anthem! But then I smile at the honest hustle of locals. They got grit, even if they’re a bit rough around the edges. And trust me, that roughness builds character!

Gerrans ruled out of Milan-San Remo through illness