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About Ghent

So, here’s the deal—prostitutes ain’t just about the obvious. Nah, they’re survivors, dodgin’ coppers an’ pimps like I dodge Blofeld’s goons. Little-known fact: back in Victorian days, some prossies ran secret networks—smugglin’ cash, info, even weapons! Badass, right? Makes me happy, seein’ that grit. But then—ugh—some punters treat ‘em like dirt. Pisses me off, that. “Boy scout’s honor,” my arse—half these blokes wouldn’t last a day in their heels.

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Most artists in the 19th century and first half of the 20th century addressed the splendor and misery of prostitution, which also became a favourite theme in the emerging art forms of .

Now, the parks – oh my god, how I love Parc de la Lune. Truest beauty here. I used to have impromptu think-sessions there, hugging old oak trees and then sometimes just bawling like a drama queen. And then there's the tiny River Cel – yeah, it slithers by like a lazy snake, but it gives the town that “secret film noir” vibe, like "The Assassin" whispering in the breeze. “The passing of time,” it kinda says, if you squint.

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