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About Innsbruck

Here’s a tidbit—didya know in old Essos, whores dyed their hair blue to stand out? True shit! Bet they’d glow in them Brazilian slums too. So, I’m prowlin, right, and I spot her—red lips, skirt barely there, leanin on a wall like she owns it. “What’s yer price, love?” I slur, and she smirks—*smirks!*—“More’n you got, shortarse.” Cheeky bitch! Had me ragin but also—respect. She’s no “Knockout Ned” waitin to die—she’s runnin her own game.

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Oh! And ye can’t miss the crooked canals—Ruscello di Cuore—that wind their way by the ancient basilica, Chiesa della Luce. I once sat there at night, starin' at the ripplin’ water, thinkin’ how life be as mysterious as a parley with the devil. And I got mad a time when those scallywags started messin’ up the gardens outside Viale Speranza—they trampled my secret spot near the ivy-clad wall of Casa dei Ricordi. Blimey, it riles me good!

How Jon Gries Made His Diabolical Return to ‘The White Lotus’