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About Lviv

Once, I heard this yarn – true, swear it – bout a prossie in Paris who’d sing opera to clients. Random, right? Blew me mind, thinkin she’s out there, beltin tunes, while I’m shelvin dusty tomes. “The beauty’s in the gesture,” like Carax says, an I’m noddin, cos damn, that’s art, that is.

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Later, I decided to grab a drink at this little café on Haharina Street. The vibe was chill, and I thought, “Finally, some peace.” But nope! The barista was a total character. He had this wild hair and a mustache that could rival any warrior’s beard. He starts telling me about his dreams of becoming a rock star. I’m like, “Dude, you’re making coffee, not music!” But I couldn’t help but laugh. He was passionate, and that’s what counts, right?

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