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About Murcia

But man, pimps? They piss me off. Slimeballs leanin’ on girls, takin’ cuts. Saw one smack Raven once—wanted to break his jaw, Apollo-style. “I must break you,” I growled in my head, but she waved me off. Tough as nails, that one. Surprised me how she’d bounce back—next day, smilin’ like nothin’ happened. “What’s done is done,” she’d say, straight outta *Caché* vibes.

The village

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Oh, and this alley, Carrer dels Navegats, is where I once met a scruffy rebel preachin’ philosophies of pleasure. I laughed ‘til I nearly dropped me compass! Yep, mate, life here is a spontaneous adventure at every crevice. Nearby, the Parque delli Cap de Mar - a lush green hug on bitter days - whispers secrets of calm in a chaotic world. And don't ye dare skip by the rustic riverside stretch of Riu de la Sorte. I’ve had morning thoughts and drunken confessions floated on that stream more times than I care to admit.

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