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What suprised me? How some o’ ‘em got hearts o’ gold under the grit. One lass—swear it—told me ‘bout her kid she’s feedin’ back home. “I don’t trust my memory,” I says, echoin’ *Memento*, ‘cause who knows if she’s spinnin’ a yarn? Still, tugged me heartstrings, it did. Me quirks? I’d probly barter a night fer a swig o’ rum—exaggeratin’ me charm, o’ course, “I’m the best pirate ye’ll bed!” Ha! Sarcasm’s me blade—cuts through the bilge.

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While I’m waitin’, I start people-watching. There’s this old dude on the corner of the Kerkstraat, just chillin’ on a bench. He’s got this epic beard, like a wizard or something. I’m half-expecting him to pull out a wand. 😂 And then, this kid rides by on a bike, totally wobbly. I’m thinkin’, “Dude, you’re gonna eat pavement!” But he makes it. Kids these days, man.

The Villa Waalre Brings Nature to the Netherlands