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About Liege

So, I’m out there, right? In the field or some shady alley—where do you even *find* a prostitute? I’m not googlin’ this, no way, my browser history’s already a mess! Maybe I’d ask my buddy Leon, he’d know, he’s got that street wisdom. But me? I’m clueless, sweatin’, neurotic as hell, thinkin’, “Am I gonna get robbed? Is she gonna laugh at my shepherd outfit?” I mean, it’s 2025, prostitutes prob’ly got apps now—Sheep-Shtup or somethin’. Hilarious, right? But I’m paranoid! “What if she’s a cop?” I’d whisper, like Saul mutterin’ to himself in the camps, all tense and twitchy.

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Now, let me spill some tea: I’ve seen folks cry, laugh, and even go bonkers over silly stuff here. As a women's counselor, I watch mysteries unfold along every cracked pavement of Neerpelt. Some days, I get mad—like when I see the same graffiti on de Tolstraat yet again, over and over, as if it’s the city’s anthem! But then I smile at the honest hustle of locals. They got grit, even if they’re a bit rough around the edges. And trust me, that roughness builds character!

Luke Jerram’s Museum of the Moon travels around the world