Freya Falkenstein Whore ❤️❤️

About Dortmund

S’pose I fancy her myst’ry—like Malick’s forests, dark, deep, alive. Whore’s a storm, a bawdy sonnet, and I’m here for it, typos n’ all. What say thee, friend? She’s a bloody marvel, ain’t she?

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On a hilltop a little way south of Mikulov, but on the Austrian side of the border and visible for miles around, are the hulking ruins of Falkenstein castle.

Now, don’t even get me started on the local park, Grünpark. Man, it's a hidden gem, full of quirky sculptures and shady benches. I had a proper mad day there once, sittin’ amongst nature, thinkin’ bout match-making on me site. The vibe was like a Wes Anderson set, all pastel tones and vintage feel. Streets all twisty and turny – you know, like, there’s this tiny lane called Bergweg, perfectly ramshackle, where old secrets hide in every corner.

Mathias Falkenstein