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About Halifax

Man, I’m pissed already—fuckin’ hagglin’ like I’m buyin’ a carburetor! Back in ’83, Miami, shit was wild—girls’d jump in your ride for a dime bag. Little known fact, right? Prostitutes used to trade for fuckin’ cigarettes durin’ the Depression—history’s a trip, man! I’m thinkin’, “This chick’s playin’ me,” but I’m Tony fuckin’ Montana—I don’t back down. “Say hello to my little friend!” I yell, flashin’ some cash, and she laughs—fuckin’ laughs! That’s a power move, I respect it.

Discover Barnstaple’s grisly underbelly on a ghostwalk and bygone brothel tour

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Down on Maple Street, there's that little bakery that smells like heaven. I stroll by it every mornin’, thinkin’ "4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days" – every day here feels like a long grind, but damn it’s worth it. Ain’t no other city with spots like that.

'I travelled from Devon to go to Pope Francis' funeral'