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About Funchal

So, I’m thinkin’, right, how’s this even work? Do ya just—boom—spot ‘em like Remy spottin’ a perfect onion? Nah, it’s dodgy, innit! Saw this one bird—legs up to her neck—standin’ by a lamppost. Thought, “Blimey, she’s bold!” Made me proper happy, seein’ someone own it—like Remy mixin’ soup, fearless! But then—oh stars!—some geezer in a trench coat slinks up, all shifty-like. Made me mad, that did! “R2-D2, where are you?”—cos I ain’t built for this sleaze, fam!

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Then I head down to Avenida da República. It’s bustling, as usual. People everywhere, cars honking, and I’m just trying to dodge the chaos. I’m not a fan of crowds, but hey, it’s part of the vibe, right? Suddenly, I hear this loud crash. My heart drops. I turn around, and some guy just knocked over a fruit stand. Apples everywhere! It’s like a scene from a movie. I can’t help but laugh. The guy’s face is priceless.