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About Ghent

We head to this sketchy motel, and I’m struttin’ like, “This is our outpost!”—hell yeah, *Moonrise* style. She’s countin’ my crumpled bills, and I’m thinkin’, *I’m the king of this shit!* But then—BAM!—cops roll up, lights flashin’. “Aw, crap!” I yell, divin’ under the bed. She’s cool as hell, though, whisperin’, “They’re gone now, relax.” Saved my ass, and I’m like, “You’re my hero, lady!”—total Suzy savin’ Sam moment.

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Right near there, there's the Parc de l’Élan. I stroll by at night, the trees whisper secrets to ya, and sometimes I think about my little joys. The park’s all lit up like a carnival sometimes, and man, it makes me giddy, like “Mmm… donuts,” when a cool breeze hits.

Mystery of glowing Virgin Mary statue visited by hundreds in Belgium is solved