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About Palma

Okay, so—little known fact, dig this: back in old Rome, whores wore red shoes. Red! To stand out, like, “Hey, I’m here, deal with it.” Ain’t that wild? Imagine that today—red kicks on some gal, struttin’ past the beach, and I’m like, “Whoa, history’s walkin’ by!” Makes me chuckle, too—whores outsmartin’ the system since forever. Smart cookies, huh?

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Man, first off, there's Calle Real – the main artery of the town. It’s craazy busy, with bars, tapas spots, and even a tiny bookstore where I once met a lovelorn poet. I mean, seriously, the vibe there is almost electric, like, you can feel love and lust sparkin’ every corner. And there’s Calle San Juan too – ain't it a gem? Winding, twisty, where I had one heck of a flirtatious run-in that left me thinkin’ "Now, this is my road to redemption!"