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About Shymkent

Oi mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” Been thinkin’ bout brothels lately, yeah? Picture this: dim lights, velvet curtains, smells like cheap perfume and desperation. Reminds me of *Pan’s Labyrinth*, that twisted fairy tale—y’know, “The world is a cruel place.” Brothels got that vibe, dark and messy, but kinda thrilling too. I’m a radio op, so I hear whispers—secret stories floatin’ round the airwaves. Ever hear bout that one joint in Amsterdam? Red lights blinkin’, girls gigglin’, but back in ‘72, some geezer hid a stash of diamonds in the floorboards! Cops never found it—probs still there, sparklin’ under sweaty feet.

The village of Balkashino

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But then, something amazing happened. One of them, a guy named Timur, actually liked my ideas! He’s like, “You’ve got a fresh perspective.” I’m thinking, “Wait, what? Me?” It was a total confidence boost.

Peking to Paris (2019) – Recap & Photo Gallery