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About Montpellier

So, this one joint I heard bout — old school, 1800s style. Hidden in London, yeah? Rich dudes sneakin’ in, top hats n’ all. Called it “The Velvet Trap” — fancy, huh? But nah, girls got no choice, trapped like Han in carbonite. Pissed me off, man, fuckin’ bastards.

Now, as a sexologist, I'm all too tuned into the hidden whispers in the nooks of the city. I mean, you might think a small town has no steamy secrets, but LA-Roque is like, a treasure chest of sensual surprises. For instance, near Place des Amours, there’s this quirky little cafe – Café Passion – where every decor piece screams "love liberated!" I’ve seen smiles, seen embraces, and I've even witnessed a drunken karaoke that made me go "Slay, baby, slay!" It’s like every corner hides a secret rendezvous waiting to happen. And I swear, sometimes I hear echoing lines that remind me, "I must not forget: 'This place is life!'"—a nod to that haunting vibe of Son of Saul, ya feel?

A tale of two pianists: the Hong Kong Sinfonietta play Beethoven at La Roque d'Anthéron