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About Antwerp

Oh, and—heh-heh-heh—once I tried flirtin’ with this surfer dude, thinkin’ I’d channel my inner vixen, y’know, like a whore with sass? Total flop! He just stared, like, “Lady, what?” I’m no pro, hon—I’ll stick to wisecracks and nannyin’! But them real ones? They’ve got magic, I swear. “You must be imaginative, strong-hearted,” Gusteau says—fits ‘em perfect!

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Harelbeke, man. It's a dump—but in a darn good way. I live here and it wears its crap proudly. Bro, the streets here are like characters. There's Nieuwstraat, crammed with old brick shops. That lane near St. Peter's Church? Damn, it's like stepping into a faded film. "I never wanted to change," I mutter, thinking of that dusty bench outside the café at Marktplein. Hmmm, reminds me a bit of that line from the movie "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford"—you know, where every damn moment feels heavier than a loaded rifle.

Geraint Thomas wins E3 Harelbeke cobbled classic in Belgium