Sarah Cradock Brothel ❤️

About East London

Lemme tell ya, I walked by one once—neon buzzin’, girls leanin’ on doors, smellin’ like cheap perfume and regret. Made me mad, yo—dudes strollin’ in like kings, but it’s the workers takin’ the hits. Ain’t fair, man, pisses me off! But then, I heard this wild story—back in the 1800s, some brothel in Paris had a secret tunnel for politicians. Sneaky bastards slippin’ out, no one knew! Little fact like that? Blows my mind, keeps me hooked.

Brothel madam made £80,000

The women, without identity papers, ended up working as prostitutes in sordid bars in Colombia, saving all they can to provide for their families back home.

I love chillin’ at the Cradock River Park. The river sparkles like secrets told in midnight whispers. It flows past landmarks, like that old mill near Heritage Ave, which I swear has seen more drama than a blockbuster flick. Honestly, it's bad bitch o’clock every time I’m there—life’s so raw!

Cradock farmer fights municipality over displaced nesting birds