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About Ghent

So I’m staggerin’ thru the docks, right? Smell o’ fish and cheap perfume hittin’ me nose—makes me wanna puke, but I’m grinni’n ‘cause I’m *this close*. Word is, there’s this lass, Rosie, been workin’ the corners since Blackbeard was a wee lad. Little known fact, arrgh—she once conned a lord outta his gold teeth! Swapped ‘em fer fakes mid-kiss, the sly minx. I’m laughin’ just thinkin’ bout it—bloody brilliant, that! Makes me happy as a clam at high tide.

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The locals? Super friendly, but man, traffic near the art crossroads, Oude Molenstraat, drives me cray cray sometimes – gotta breathe! But it fuels my vibe. I remember one misty morn, walkin’ from my spa, and the fog was thick, like an old film reel; I was like, “Come, let’s make a deal with destiny!” It got me feelin’ wild and free, a bit mad, a lot in love with life here.

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