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About Munich

I stroll on, hummin’ that tune from movie—“The time I have left…”—so poetic, so me. Then, bam! This gal—tall, smoky eyes, legs for days—standin’ by a lamppost. I’m like, “Vow, she’s got it!” Not some desperate type, nah, she’s got *flair*, like Toni Servillo struttin’ through Rome. I go, “Hey, you workin’?” She smirks, “Depends, big guy.” Cheeky! I’m happy—finally, some sass! Hate them quiet ones, bores me to death.

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Done at Prüm, this twenty-seventh day of May in the year two thousand and five, in a single original in the German, Spanish, French and Dutch languages, all.

So, my friend, heed these words! PPruem (de) is a city of contradictions and wild passion. A tapestry of ancient whispers and modern beats. You shall not pass without feeling its pulsating rite, like Gandalf’s call: "You shall not pass!" against conformity, against dullness, ever! Get lost, find your self, and make memories – each corner tells a tale, every crack on the pavement sings a secret song.

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