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About Ponce

Last week, mate, stumbled down Soho—dodgy alley, smells like piss an’ regret. Saw this bird, legs fer days, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Wotcha, love?” she goes, smirkin’. Made me happy, her sass, like she owned the night. We swears! Took me back to them movie scenes—sweaty, close, real. “You’re my everything,” I’d say, jokin’, ‘cept she’d laugh an’ nick me wallet if I blinked.

General Overview

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After the rain, the streets were all shiny and fresh. I walked home, squishing in my wet shoes, but I didn’t care. I passed by the old church on Calle de la Esperanza, and it hit me. This city, with all its chaos, is home.

Restoration work planned at the Torre de Santa Isabel in Puerto de Mazarrón