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About Leuven

What pisses me off? The blokes who treat ‘em like dirt. Makes my blood boil—where’s the class? Happy bit? She cracks a smile when I tip big—surprises her. “You’re not like the others,” she says. Damn right, I’m Bond! Little factoid: in Amsterdam, they’ve got unions for this gig—proper rights an’ all. Shocked me first time I heard it.

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When I'm not busy doin' my relaxation biz or trying to keep my zen, I hit up the little park near the Scheldt River (yep, the river actual goshdamn flows through town). Saved a load of stress there, just sittin' on some random bench. I once got mad (for real, I was red-eyed, man) because some local cats were making so much noise I nearly lost my chill—like, seriously, even nature has trolls here! And that park? It's got this wild blend of calm n' chaotic energy, sort of reminiscent of that eerie quiet in "The Return", where the silence shouts louder than words.

Photos of Belgium’s Ravaged Landscapes, in the Immediate Aftermath of World War I