Mari Bilgaard Brothel ❤️

About Nijmegen

Oi, C-3PO – Panicked, “R2-D2, where are you?” – I’d be useless there, flappin’ bout manners while they’re at it! Hah, reckon I’d short-circuit seein’ the sheets – “Oh my, the indecency!” What’s yer take, mate? Bet it’s a right laugh, or a right fright – either way, brothel’s a bloody saga!

Red light, grey zone: Perceptions of prostitution vary wildly on the streets of the capital

Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, really rain. I’m soaked in seconds. I dash for cover under this awning, and guess who’s there? The barista from earlier! He’s laughing, and I’m like, “Dude, you jinxed me with that tree bark coffee!” We end up chatting, and he tells me about the best spots in Bilgaard. Apparently, there’s a hidden park with the biggest oak tree. I’m all in.