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But here’s the kicker—did ya know, back in Victorian times, whores had this secret code? Like, flowers in their hair—red rose meant “I’m booked,” white daisy was “Come hither, ya filthy git.” Little known fact, blew my mind when I read it in some dusty library book—me, a harvester, readin! Surprised the hell outta me, history’s wild like that. Makes ya wonder what she’s hidin now, eh? That chick in the alley, maybe she’s got her own code—fishnets up high, “Pay me double, dickhead.”

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If you try to define brothel in simple words, you are likely to describe it as a accepted location where men and women have gender with Thun call girls. You.

I even discovered a hidden gem – the cozy little bar on Seestrasse. It’s off the beaten path. I sometimes end up there after a long day. A couple of typos in my texts later, and bam – you’re in the most real, raw vibe of Thun. Sometimes I think, “damn, this city’s got attitude!” Even when I'm mad about stuff at work, a pint at that bar makes it all fade away, ya know?

David Otto Thun | Obituaries