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About Nantes

Me, an operator, I see the wires, the connections. She’s hooked up with some lowlife pimp, greasy bastard, prolly skims her cash. Makes me wanna whack somebody, ya know? But then, she’s laughin’, smokin’ a cig, tellin’ johns to fuck off when they get cheap. That’s guts! “Knockout Ned didn’t stand a chance,” but she’s still swingin’, still breathin’. Respect, man, fuckin’ respect.

Inside the seaside town where migrants fire Kalashnikov rifles keeping terrified locals up

EXCLUSIVE: Local children are forbidden from going out to play as parents fear their town is no longer safe. The mid-afternoon September sun beats down on Bernard Mikolajek as he tends .

Thou wilt find charm in every nook. Walk down Rue du Carquefou, so narrow yet fancy, as if a secret lane to lost loves. Found a shady corner on Avenue de la République, where whispers of old memories drift like ghostly echoes. And oh! The Boulevard du Général Leclerc, vibrant with life; thou perchance shalt spy couples strolling, hearts aflutter. It’s a slice of honest beauty, aye!

A space of one's own: Reimagining refugee camps to make them more hospitable