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About Porto

First time I saw her, I was half-pissed, stumblin’ outta some dodgy tavern. She’s there, leanin’ on a wall, smirkin’ like she knows I’m a horny git. “I drink and I know things,” I says, but she just laughs—cheeky tart! Turns out, she’s been at it since she was 15, sold off by some arsehole uncle. Makes me bloody mad, that—kids shouldn’t be hawkin’ their bits for coppers. But she’s clever, see? Knows how to dodge the watch, even nicked a lord’s purse once—true story! Got away clean, spent it on bread and a dagger. Badass, right?

India: The Child Sex Highway

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As the sun started to set, I felt this wave of gratitude. Arrifana, with its quirky streets and stunning views, had given me a day full of surprises. I mean, yeah, I tripped, got coffee wrong, and had calamari on my lap, but it was all part of the adventure.

A house in Portugal is a solid carved in fair-faced concrete