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About Amadora

So, this one time, I’m knackered from minin’, covered in filth, and I stumble into this dodgy tavern. There she is—red lips, skirts hiked up, laughin’ like she owns the joint. I’m thinkin’, “What’s a girl like that doin’ here?” She’s got guts, I’ll give her that. Sippin’ me ale, I watch her work the room—blokes droolin’, tossin’ shillings. Made me chuckle, “I seen whores with more grace than kings.” She’s got this trick—winks at ya, and yer wallet’s empty afore ya blink. Clever minx.

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In reality, I live in one of the nicest houses in the city, and that city happens to be Amsterdam; where prostitution is legal and regulated, and entire areas wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for the .

Then, I decided to hit up the Igreja de São Pedro. It’s this beautiful church on Rua da Igreja. I walked in, and wow, the stained glass was stunning. I felt all peaceful for a sec. But then, my phone buzzed. It was my boss. Ugh. He wanted to talk about the upcoming festival. I mean, can’t a guy catch a break?

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