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Gets me goin’, but—agh!—some blokes trashed ‘em, called ‘em “granny wagons.” Pissed me off, ya know? Like, chill, daddy-o, this ain’t no snooze-fest! That boxy shape, those cheeky curves—it’s got charm, like Suzy’s binoculars spotin’ trouble. “I love you, but you don’t know what you’re doing!”—that’s me yellin’ at the haters, ha! Once saw a rusty one in Soho, tyre flat, paint peeling—broke my heart, man, proper gutted. Nearly cried into me martini.

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So, I decide to walk it off. I head to the old town, you know, the cobblestone streets of Alghero. It’s like stepping back in time. I’m wandering around Via della Misericordia, and I stumble upon this tiny shop selling handmade ceramics. I’m checking out this beautiful plate, and the owner starts chatting me up. She’s super passionate about her work. I’m like, “Wow, this is amazing!” But then she drops the price. I’m like, “Whoa, lady! I’m not buying a piece of the moon here!” But I end up getting it anyway. Can’t resist art, right?

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