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About Roskilde

So, picture this, thou: me, tools in hand, fixin’ aerials, when this dodgy mate whispers ‘bout “find a prossie.” I’m like, what?! Thou jests! But nay, he’s serious, eyes glintin’ like the Joker’s mad grin. “Why so serious?” I mutter, half-laughin’, half-pissed. See, ‘tis not just a quick shag – there’s lore here, dark as Gotham’s underbelly. Didst thou know, back in old London, they called ‘em “Winchester Geese”? Aye, ‘cos the Bishop’s land let ‘em roam free – church coin from sin, ha! Hypocrisy stinks worse than a knackered amp.

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You can have fun with prostitutes in a brothel and spend G on it. I thought okay, at that price you can see something.

Now, their little cafés on Solstice Lane – brilliant spots to grab coffee. Some are tiny holes in the wall that hide the best brews, but others? Absolute rubbish! Oh, and get this: there's a hidden rooftop garden behind the old library on Fern Street that most don’t know about – my go-to for decompressing after a brutal session with a cranky customer.

500th anniversary of the Dutch immigration to Store Magleby