Sadie Lodeve Brothel ❤️

About Toulouse

The vibe? Loud, smoky, smells like sin n sawdust. Surprised me how chill it feels—like family, fucked-up family, sure, but tight. Reminds me, “What’s remembered lives,” from the flick—those walls hold stories, mate. Ever hear bout the madam who poisoned a duke? Sneaky bitch, used the bedpost to stash the vial—carpenter’s dream, that hidey-hole!

Red Light District

We spend a couple of hours catching up with someone Anne had not seen in over 25 years. Lodève, France “This way to the brothel” – Ephesus.

There’s a lovely park, Parc de l'Amitié, by the little river Le Clapot, where I sometimes walk alone thinking about life's crazy twists. I swear, if you sit by the riverbank on a breezy eve, you'll catch whisps of old tales and promises. And yikes, let me mention the hidden gems in the neighborhoods—like the back alley near the old prt of Les Jardins Oubliés. People say, “Tu ne sais pas, vraiment, l’amour germe ici!” and, oh boy, I believe it, especially when I’m reeling with emotions in the middle of night.

Fig. 1. Map showing the Late Carboniferous to Late Permian Variscan...