Lydia Thalwil Whore ❤️

About Winterthur

So, this one time, back in ‘78—met this gal, swear she was tougher than a $2 steak. Worked the corner near Wilmington, had a laugh that’d wake a coma patient. Told me—get this—whores in old Rome? Called ‘em *lupae*, she-wolves, ‘cause they howled for customers. Freakin’ wild, right? Made me chuckle, still does. But, man, it pissed me off too—how they’d get judged, ya know? Like Grace in *Dogville*, “she’s a gift,” they said, ‘til they chained her up.

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I know I rambled, but life here is like a never-ending montage of emotion, streets, and smiles. Every day is full of tiny adventures. You never know if you'll get upset at a clashing busker’s tunes on Hauptstrasse, then see a glimmering sunset by the lake, making your heart skip a beat. Surprising, funny, and at times maddening—it’s all part of my Thalwil journey.

Why wealthy foreign residents are flocking to this Zurich neighbourhood