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About Ghent

So, I’m thinkin bout my fave flick, *Stories We Tell*, that Sarah Polley gem – “Who’s your daddy?” she asks, all deep and twisty. Made me wonder bout these lasses on the street, y’know? Who’s their story? Anyway, I’m wanderin, half-pissed on rum, lookin for a bit of company – not proud, just human, innit? Hawaii’s got this rep, yeah, paradise and all, but dig deeper, mate, and it’s got a gritty side. Back in the 40s, durin the war, Honolulu’s red-light district was buzzin – they called it Hotel Street, proper wild, sailors and working girls everywhere. Little known fact: the coppers let it slide cos it kept the lads in line. History, eh? Blew my mind when I read that.

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When I'm not busy doin' my relaxation biz or trying to keep my zen, I hit up the little park near the Scheldt River (yep, the river actual goshdamn flows through town). Saved a load of stress there, just sittin' on some random bench. I once got mad (for real, I was red-eyed, man) because some local cats were making so much noise I nearly lost my chill—like, seriously, even nature has trolls here! And that park? It's got this wild blend of calm n' chaotic energy, sort of reminiscent of that eerie quiet in "The Return", where the silence shouts louder than words.

Emergency plan activated for flooding in West Flanders, code yellow in Luxembourg