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About Brussels

Me? I’d be PISSED – shellin’ out dough. For FAKE love? Gimme a break. But then – hold up. I get it. Kinda sweet, too. People so desperate – they’ll pay. For a smile. Makes me HAPPY – sorta. That human connection’s still kickin’. Even if it’s rented. Little factoid – y’know escorts. Used to be “courtesans”? Back in France – 1700s. High-class broads. Schmoozin’ kings. Not just bedroom acrobats – nah. They ran SALONS. Smart as hell. Blows my mind – history’s wild.

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Let’s not forget the hidden gems – my fave? The tiny café on Averestraat, oh man, they brew a killer cuppa joe. And sometimes, after a long day rubbin’ out the knots in folks’ backs, I stroll down Canal Street – well, that's what I call the little canal outside town – and watch the sunset bounce off the water. Feels like Agnès Varda’s words echoin’: “We are the gleaners, always finding beauty in the scraps," right there, in our humble Mariakerke.

A Little Bit of De Ronde History