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About Palermo

Oh, and the smell—perfume, sweat, desperation—hits ya like a punch. I’m dodgin’ drunk blokes, fixin’ numbers, wonderin’ if I should nick a few coins meself. “Yield and overcome,” right? Temptin’, but nah, I’m too classy—well, mostly. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but it’s a brothel, mate—everythin’s extra! Worst bit? Some twat spilled ale on my papers—ruined three hours’ work. Nearly stabbed him with my quill, swear down.

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After that, I head over to Via XXV Aprile. I’m thinking maybe a coffee will calm my nerves. I hit up this little café, and the barista? She’s a gem. We start chatting, and I’m feeling good again. But then, outta nowhere, this group of teenagers bursts in, blasting music from their phones. I’m like, “Dude, chill! This ain’t a club!”

MAST Transforms a Former Quarry in Milan, Italy, into a Central Park and Floating Forest