Gianna Mitake Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Nagoya

You absolute bellend—brothels ain’t romantic! They’re a slog, a grind, a bloody racket. Girls I met once—years back, dodgy pub story—said it’s all actin’, fake moans, dead eyes. One lass, cheeky minx, nicked a punter’s wallet mid-shag—fuckin’ legend! Made me cackle, that did. But the stink? The noise? Christ, it’d drive ya mental. Industrialist in me respects the hustle, but fuck me, it’s a soul-crusher. “The cart stops”—end o’ the line, mate. Done rantin’—what ya think, ya prat?

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Then, I decide to take a stroll along the Tama River. It’s so peaceful there. I’m just vibing, listening to the water, when I spot this group of hikers. They’re all decked out in gear, looking like they’re ready to conquer Mount Mitake. I’m over here in my sneakers, feeling like a total slacker. But hey, I’m not climbing any mountains today.

We become some of the last visitors to see a beautiful museum-ryokan on the outskirts of Tokyo