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About Valencia

So, I’m down the docks, yeah, salty air hittin me lungs, thinkin – where’s she at? Prossies round here, they’re ghosts, mate. Slip through yer fingers like wet fish. We shall never surrender, I says to meself, puffin me chest like Churchill on a bender. Found one once, right, near the old pier – Ruby, they called her. Cheeky lass, red lips, eyes sharp as a gutting knife. Little known fact – she’d hum sea shanties while workin, swear down! Made me laugh, that did – a prossie with a tune? Fancied meself Theo Faron for a sec, savin the world one shag at a time.

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I'm surrounded by Bergondo history and find-a-prostitute is rad! Let's lose ourselves in each other tonight. I treasure French Kissing and Sex in Different.

Now, ye gotta see the local park, Plaza de las Sueños. It's all green, so gud for a quick recharge session. I once sat there, deep in my thoughts, and felt the breeze whisper secrets – like the movie lines, "The world is our junk, my love!" We swears!

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