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About Antwerp

Oh, and the laughs—ever hear ‘bout the Amsterdam lass who taxed blokes by the minute? Stingy sod complained, she goes, “Time’s money, love!”—cracked me up. Sarcasm’s their shield, mate, and I dig it. Makes ‘em human, not just a quick shag. So yeah, whores—rough, real, a bit like me after a brawl. “Shaken, not stirred,” but they shake the world, don’t they? Bloody legends.

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Oh boy, and the neighborhoods! Check out Le Petit Parvis—raw, edgy, but tender, kinda like a work of art. A bit rough sometimes in parts, which makes me mad when I see people suffering. Grr… but hey, it's life, dude! And yo, there’s also L’Abbaye, so peaceful. I’d walk by its old stone buildings; they whisper stories to those who care. Feel like you're diving into a well of human emotions. True story, I once sat near a cracked window on Rue des Murmures (yep, another hidden gem) and cried with a stranger. Strange, right? But those moments, they’re gold for a counselor.

How Axel Witsel found his way to Zenit