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About Liege

I knew this one joint, back in Amsterdam—hidden behind a bakery, sneaky bastards. Smelled like pastries and sin, wild combo. Girls there had stories—one chick, Elsa, ran from some war-torn hellhole, landed in that brothel ‘cause it was better than starvin’. Broke my damn heart, Clarice… but also kinda impressed me. Gutsy move. Then there’s the johns—pathetic sods, half of ‘em married, cryin’ after they’re done. “I’m not that kind of man,” they’d whimper. Oh, please, spare me the tears.

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And about those parks—Parc de la Lune, if ya know what’s up. I’d run there when stressed, runnin’ like I had the Bat-phone on speed dial. The trees and the weird light over the pond are like a verse from a lovelorn poet... or maybe those introspectin’ moments in “The Dark Knight.” Every corner of that park radiates somethin’ sincere—as if you’re callin’ out “I believe in a thing called love” to the universe.

The E25 between Liège and Maastricht is the most dangerous motorway in Wallonia