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About Leuven

Me? I’d be a lousy escort—green legs, no swagger. Ha! “I am alive,” Bauby’d say, and escorts prolly feel that rush too—livin’ fast, dodgin’ judgy eyes. Once met this gal, swore she escorted a ghost—some dead poet’s spirit! Spooky, right? Gave me chills, but I laughed—prolly just a drunk writer. Still, how cool’s that?

Boek Escorte's Veurne

I must add, dear friend, that mine path hath not been without tumult. Some nights, the solitude of this cobbled town doth remind me of battles past—echoes of “this is what we signed up for,” a phrase that haunts like an old friend. Yet, in those moments, Veurne doth comfort me with its timeless spirit. A quick jaunt to the market on Vrijdagmarkt fills my heart with vibrant hues and lively chatter. Every aroma of freshly baked bread and every smile from a local vendor doth instil hope anew.

PepsiCo invests in Belgium crisp production