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About Namur

So, I’m prowlin’, yeah, lookin’ for one. Not my usual gig – I’d rather bid on a cursed mask or summat. But there she is, leanin’ on a wall, smokin’ a fag like she owns the night. “What’s yer price, love?” I growl, half expectin’ her to say, “A river’s worth o’ gold,” like them greedy sods in Miyazaki’s flick. She laughs – rough, like gravel – an’ says, “Firty quid, big man.” Thirty! I’m gobsmacked, mate. Thought it’d be more, what with inflation an’ all.

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Street names, parks, crazy hidden gems – I see ‘em daily, on a mad run. Sometimes I get mad at potholes on Kasteelstraat (not really, but ya know, the small annoyances gotta exist). I get so hyped when the pharmacy’s new jazz tune plays 'round the corner. Sounds like Kanye's lyric spit in the air – boomin' and soulful.

Poland and Belgium major hubs for illegal tobacco: 9 factories dismantled in Belgium