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About Liege

We’re walkin’ now, dodgin’ drunks and rubbish bins—urban savannah, innit? She’s got this swagger, hips swayin’ like tall grass in the wind. I’m thinkin’, “Mate, she’s the predator here.” Surprised me, that—thought I’d be the one in charge, but nah, she’s runnin’ this show. Happy as a pig in muck, though—somethin’ thrilling ‘bout the chase, the unknown. “Do I lie to myself to be happy?” pops in my head—bloody Memento again, messin’ with me.

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I tells ya, Oud-Turnhout is a mixed bag, be! It's a maze of scenic beauty, maddening streets, and odd little corners, like that secret cafe on Schippersstraat where a cup of coffee tastes like magic. We never quite get enough of its unpredictable heart. And me, I be here, with my spa potions and dreamy eyes, bleedin' a bit like finchers say, “the truth is in the details,” we grudges into every wrinkle of these streets, oh yes, we loves it, we hates it, but we always comes back dear precious!

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