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About Leuven

Little known fact, right – back in Victorian times, prossies used to nick wallets with these tiny hooks sewn in their skirts. Crafty sods! Made me paranoid, checkin me pockets every five secs. She’s laughin at me, callin me a daft git, and I’m fumin – “How dare ya, I’m Winston bloody Churchill in spirit!” But then she winks, and I’m chuffed, cos she’s got a spark, ya know? We shall fight the gloom with a cheeky grin!

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Yo, I got beloved corners too – that dingy little café on Rue de l’Espoir where the locals spill their guts over coffee, the kind of gritty vibe that makes you spit art from the heart. Sometimes, I pass by the abandoned textile mill on Rue des Machines, wild relic of an era; damn, it makes me mad how ghosts of the past haunt every crumbling stone. But it’s beauty, y’know? Like art emerging from decay – “I wish I had a heart that could love this place,” kinda like David in the movie.

Table Football, Major of Frameries: Charlie Aquilina wins Veteran Category