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About Lyon

So, listen, yeah? Me, creepin’ round, eyes big, lookin’ for a girl. Streets stinks, all piss an’ smoke—lovely, innit? We swears! Found one once, near Soho, real shadowy spot. She’s all, “Wotcha want, luv?” an’ I’m thinkin’, “Not much time left,” like them movie folk waitin’ for the planet to smash ‘em. Paid her quick, tenner slipped shaky-like—cheaper than a pint these days! Little fact, yeah? Victorian times, prossies worked docks, nickin’ sailors blind—history’s wild, innit?

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First off, I’m a Kvasnik, which means I deal with all things fermented. Yeah, I know, sounds fancy, but it’s just me and my barrels of kvas. Anyway, I head out to the market on Place de la Mairie. It’s buzzing, like always. Vendors shouting, people haggling, and me just trying to find the best beets for my next batch.

Four dead in light plane crash outside Paris - fire service