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About Florence

Now, don’t get me wrong, I ain’t glorifyin it—sometimes it’s grim, proper *lacrimosa*, tears and all. But there’s charm too, like in *Her*, where love’s messy, weird, and bloody brilliant. Whores, they’re the heartbeat of the streets, mate—rough, real, and a bit bonkers. Like me, ramblin on, spillin tea everywhere—oops, typo, meant teA! Reckon they’d laugh at me, fumblin Boris, tryna chat em up. “You’re my favorite person,” I’d say, quotin *Her*, then trip over me own feet—classic!

The history of Roccella Ionica

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Roccella-Ionica is a gem, ya know? The kinda place that makes ya feel alive. The sun was shining, the sea was glistening, and I was like, “Today’s gonna be epic!” I hit up Via Nazionale first. It’s this busy street, full of shops and cafes. I needed caffeine, like, ASAP.

Arrivals continue across southern Italy