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About Dusseldorf

Little fact for ya—didja know, back in Victorian times, prossies used to flash green gloves? Secret code, innit—sneaky buggers! Saw that on X once, blew me mind! Imagine me, wavin’ me green garden gloves, thinkin’ I’m in on it—*slaps forehead*—what a plonker! Got me all giddy, though—love a good secret, me. But then, ooh, got mad—some punter yelled, “Oi, weirdo!” at me. Cheeky sod! Nearly chucked me trowel at ‘im, but I tripped—*thud!*—landed in a puddle, typical!

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I found the scene with the hookers to be gross and unnecessary and overdone with them making out and giggling and everything.

I get excited, sometimes angry at poor wifi or misinformed locals, but this town is vibrant. Streets narrow, corners whisper secrets. So many cafes, like little heartbeats of life behind each door. I keep forgetting names, but oh well – spontaneity is key, right?

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