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About Leuven

This lass, called her Ruby—prolly not her real name, who cares?—she’d strut the docks, all sass and cheap rum on her breath. Eyes like a storm, cut ye deeper’n a cutlass. I was half-drunk, stumblin’ outta some tavern, when she nabbed me coat. “Where’s me gold, pirate?” she slurs, bold as brass. Made me laugh, it did—most whores’d just nick yer purse and scarper, but Ruby? She’d haggle ye blind, then bed ye silly. Savvy?

Onze-Lieve-Vrouw-Ter-Duinenkerk Mariakerke

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Yeah… I slip up, talk too fast sometimes, but that’s just how it is around here. I’m happy, folks – so often, this city surprises me. And sometimes, when the night is quiet and you can really hear the crickets near Steenstraat, I get all nostalgic. Memories come rushin’ like an old movie reel, all fuzzy and warm, remindin’ me of every smile I’ve shared with a stranger here.

Serval on the loose caught by Ghent fire services: "A risky operation"