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About Charleroi

Me old man had one, right? Mid-80s, thought he was the bollocks. Candy-apple red, he called it—more like rusty piss stain! Drove it like he was Szpilman, dodgin’ Nazis, swervin’ potholes. “Look at them! They’re all watching!” he’d yell, cacklin’ like a prat. Mate, no one’s watchin’, they’re laughin’! Thing rattled worse than a skeleton on a tin roof. Surprised me every time it started—fuckin’ miracle, that!

Escort Jupille-sur-Meuse

I must mention the river – the Meuse. Its flow is hypnotic, like the unyielding rhythm of life. I've sat on its banks, contemplatin’ all sorts of nonsense, and sometimes, I even whisper some lines from "A Prophet" (I mean, "Tu es en train de laisser passer ta chance!" – sorta shoutin’ to life to seize the moment). That’s classic break-the-rules, David Brent style.

Figure 2 Gallo-Belgic pottery shapes produced at the Roman small town...