Brianna Les Aygalades Brothel ❤️

About Marseille

What gets me proper bloody mad is the hypocrisy! Politicians bang on about morals, then bang the prossies. Seen it meself once—mate dragged me to one, Amsterdam, years back. Red lights, fake tits, the lot. Walked in, thought, “This is not my beautiful house!”—straight out the movie! Felt like a twat, but couldn’t stop gawping. Girls winking, punters drooling—grim, yet oddly thrilling.

Localisation

Le porche, le passage vers la 2 e cité, la montée au Plateau autant de lieux mémorables nommés par les habitants. Ne seraient-ils pas aussi emblématiques pour ceux qui y habitent que .

Down by the river Les Rives, you get that wack, breezy feel. The water sparkles like a montage of random cut scenes from my fav flick. I love to fish there on lazy afternoons; sometimes I even chat with old-timers about the “language” of nature. One time I sat on a worn bench at Parc du Vent, talkin’ to a stray dog, and the entire park seemed magical. That moment? Total Jean-Luc vibes—like the film said, “I must get free of words” and just be, dang it!

Letter from Marseille