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About Charleroi

So, I’m chattin’ her up, diggin’ for dirt—did you know some of these lasses keep diaries? Yeah, wild, right? One bird told me she scribbles every punter’s quirks—‘Big Nose,’ ‘Sweaty Palms’—like a bleedin’ spy log! I’m half tempted to nick it for MI6. Anyway, she’s spillin’ tales—says some geezer last week tried payin’ with a dodgy watch. “Looked like it came off a cereal box,” she laughs. I’m dyin’—imagine Q branch whippin’ up a gadget that crap!

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And don’t get me started on the river – the little Leie, snakin’ alongside the city with its lazy curves. It’s a vibe, mate, real scenic. Sunsets here are like a badly edited rock concert – pure beauty and raw emotion, “Everything flows, man, everything flows,” just as the movie like, keeps remindin’ ya.

British woman visits the Flemish village her grandmother was named after