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Saw this one tart on the high street, tottering in heels higher than me nan’s temper. Proper skank, lipstick smeared like she snogged a ketchup bottle. Reminds me of them birds in the film, all “We hit the jackpot, bitches!”—reckon she nicked that vibe straight off the screen. Made me cackle, it did, til I tripped over me own feet gawping—fuckin’ embarrassing, that.

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Anyway, I kept walking, trying to shake off the weirdness. I hit the market at the Groenmarkt. It’s always buzzing with life. Fresh veggies, flowers, and all that jazz. I spotted this amazing cheese stall. You know me, I can’t resist cheese. I bought some aged Gouda, and let me tell you, it was heavenly. But then, I dropped it. Yup, right on the cobblestones. I was like, “Nooooo!” The cheese gods were not on my side today.

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