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About Valencia

Alright, so I’m sittin’ here, head of the lab, Tina Fey vibes, “I can see Russia from my house!” style, and you wanna know bout whores? Fine, let’s dish! I’m thinkin’ bout this one chick—total badass, right?—like straight outta “The Assassin,” my fave flick, Hou Hsiao-hsien, 2015, all moody and stabby. Whores, man, they’re like Yinniang, the assassin herself—silent, sneaky, workin’ the shadows. “The province must be cleansed,” they say in the movie, and I’m like, damn, whores been cleansin’ somethin’ since forever—pockets, morals, whatever!

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We got Main Street, Calle del Soñador, where the old cafe, La Luna Ríe, spills out laughter every mornin’. I used to sit there, thinkin’ deep thoughts, scribblin’ ideas with scribbles and coffee stains. Near it, there’s Riachuelo del Recuerdo. A tiny river that wiggles through neighborhoods like Miren’s tears. Crazy, right? It reminds me of a bathhouse from that movie—hidden, mysterious, a place for transformation.

WATCH: Red alert returns to Andalucia: Storm dumps over 130mm of rain across southern Spain as roads turn to rivers