Hazel Ferndale Brothel ❤️

About Newcastle

And the rules—oh, the rules! Victorian times, they had “gentlemen’s guides” for brothels. Little books! “Don’t haggle, tip the madam”—like it’s a damn restaurant! I’m screamin’ inside, “Who writes this crap?!” But it’s wild—those madams ran the show. Some got rich, owned half the town! One in New Orleans, Lulu White, had a mansion, mirrors everywhere—freaky, right? I’m impressed, but also—mirrors? Too much self-reflection for me!

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It has been at various times a stagecoach stop, a saloon, a gambling hall, a house of prostitution and an art gallery. The Kinetic Sculpture Race was.

Finally, I manage to get her sorted. She leaves looking fab, and I’m feeling like a hero. But then, the next customer is a bloke who’s had one too many pints at The Crown. He stumbles in, slurring his words, and I’m just thinking, “Oh great, here we go.” He wants a trim, but he can’t sit still. I’m dodging his head like I’m in a boxing match.

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