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About East London

Oi, you lot, listen up! I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, cold as ice, and yeah, “I choose violence.” Escort, right? Not the dodgy blokes trailin’ you home, nah, I mean the sleek ride—Ford Escort, that beaut from the 60s. Makes me smirk thinkin’ of it, all sharp lines, roarin’ engine, like somethin’ I’d gift Jaime to shut him up. Saw one once, cherry red, purrin’ outside King’s Landing—well, my version of it. Felt a thrill, like when I torched the Sept. Happy? Damn right, ‘til some git scratched it—wanted to flay him alive, I swear.

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Then we got Stutterheim Dam, a legit spot for escapin’ boring routines. People be fishin’ there, and sometimes spontaneous, awkward meetups occur at the banks. It's so amazing, right? Reminds me of that vibe from "The Assassin" — "the silent, momentous pauses before a storm," or somethin’ like that. Crazy poetic, huh?

WATCH | Police run for cover after being chased by protesters in Stutterheim