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About Utrecht

I seen her last week, hair wild, eyes sharp—motherfucker, she’s a hustler! Got this vibe, like she’s seen shit you wouldn’t believe. Little known fact: back in ’78, some prostitute in Paris ran a whole spy ring—true story, fucked up and badass. This gal? She’s got that energy. Makes me happy as hell, seein’ her own it. But, shit, it pisses me off too—world chews up girls like her, spits ‘em out, and don’t give a fuck.

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By the end of the day, I’m exhausted. I park my tractor, and I’m just sitting there, staring at the sunset over Ommoord. It’s beautiful, man. All the craziness fades away. I think about the kids, the old lady, the farmer, and I realize, this is what it’s all about. The chaos, the laughter, the unexpected moments.

Exceptional convoy for exceptional piece of Rotterdam’s history