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About Bruges

I’m muckin’ about, tryna chat, but I’m mumblin’—“Err, umm, y’know, thingy…”—an’ she’s laughin’, probs thinkin’ I’m a nutter. Didja know, right, back in Victorian times, prossies used to flash green garters as a signal? Mad, innit? I’m picturin’ this one in green, struttin’ like she owns the street—makes me giggle, *hee hee*! But then—oi!—some geezer shoves past, all sweaty an’ loud, an’ I’m fumin’, “Oi, watch it, ya prat!” Nearly lost me prossie there, heart’s poundin’—angry as a wasp in a jar!

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We start at Korte Markt – a busy square. I stroll there, thinking, “This city is crumby and brilliant at once.” Buildings stare with centuries-old secrets. The cobblestones? They’ve seen too much… kinda like me after a long night with a wild client. Something about that makes me mad sometimes, anger mixed with dark humor.

Bengt Haeck - Ronse (BE) The ‘De Rauw-Sablon’-pigeons show the way to ‘national top’! - UPDATE