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About Nantes

Now, lemme spill some tea—did ya know, back in the 1800s, them “ladies of the night” had secret codes? Yeah, man, they’d flash a red hanky or somethin’ sneaky to signal clients. Wild, right? History’s fulla these lil’ nuggets—makes me wonder what Chihiro’d think, wanderin’ into that kinda mess. “This is not a bathhouse I signed up for!” she’d say, all wide-eyed and pissed. I’d be right there with her—damn straight, this world’s a trip.

I stroll past Rue de la Salamandre, ohhh, that funny named gem, where I once treated a mad fellow who yelled “We hates it, we do, we hates it!” after a long day, his muscles twisted in pain. Pff, poor bastard, but yess. The parks, oh! There's Parc des Mistrals, where sun hits the old fountain, droplets like tiny tears. I once left my massage table there, and oh blimey, a gecko crawled on it! Precious... but we laughed.

'It was a bit worse than this but the outcome was the same’ - Brutal day out at Paris-Nice leaves Mads Pedersen reminiscing about World Championships win