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About Frankfurt

The vibe? Chaos, mate. Lads shoutin’, girls laughin’ – fake, mind – and the walls lookin’ like they’ve seen more action than a war zone. Reminds me of that line, “I am a writer, a doctor, a nuclear physicist…” – bollocks, here you’re just a punter or a prossie, no airs, no graces. Oh, and the myths? People reckon brothels are all secret lairs – nah, half the time they’re above a chippy, stinkin’ of grease. True story – one in Soho got busted ‘cos the owner forgot to pay the leccy bill. Lights out, trousers down – what a prat!

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I must mention the hidden gem, the old bust near Schloßbergweg. It's like a secret nudge to laugh at life's absurdity. And oh! The smell of fresh bread near the market square? Like a punch to the heart that says “enjoy every damn bite” even if life’s bitter sometimes.