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About Leipzig

I saunter over, cool as you like, “Shaken, not stirred, love.” She laughs—proper throaty, makes me grin. “Tenner for a quickie,” she goes. Bargain, innit? But I’m ragin’ inside—ten quid? Inflation’s a bitch! Used to be a fiver in the ‘80s, swear down. Still, I’m chuffed—beats chasin’ Blofeld. We duck into an alley, all dark and damp, like the estate in the movie. “It’s all fucked, innit?” I mutter, quotin’ Mia’s mum. She nods, smirkin’, like she gets it.

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I strolled down Rathausplatz—ugh, the square where history mingles with modern antics—and the old St. Marien Church looms like an ancient guardian. The scent of fresh brews from the nearby Café Klipper spills into the street, and boy, does it warm yer cockles!

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