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About Bruges

Anyway, she’s out there, hustlin’, and I’m over here, sippin’ my espresso, thinkin’, “She’s livin’ *Tabu*—‘a life of forbidden passion.’” That’s her, man—danger, sex, the whole deal. Makes me happy in a weird way, seein’ her own it. You catch my drift? Gabagool? Ova here! Next time, I’m askin’ her name—fuck it, why not?

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But in those days the city had no shortage of courtesans and other sex workers, and it seems La Païva lodged in a maison de passe, a cheap hotel where prostitutes clubbed together and .

Then there's the funky neighborhood of Saint-René. It's small but bursting with secret cafes and hidden corners. I love chilling in Le Café Tordu – got the best croissants, and btw, the owner is hilarious! My office? Nah, I’m not in it, but I love my walks there. I once sat beside a murmuring fountain on Rue des Nuages. It’s where I reeled in my thoughts for hours. I swear, nothing like a bit of water and wind to blow your worries away.

Young meets with Perenco execs