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About Bologna

Aight, listen up, precious! We swears! Brothels, man, they’re wild, yeah? Like, got this vibe—dark, messy, real human stuff. Kinda like *Son of Saul*, y’know? “We must get out!”—that’s what I think, standin’ there, watchin’ folks stumble in. Place stinks of sweat, cheap perfume, desperation clingin’ like smoke. Gets me mad, seein’ how some strut in, all cocky, thinkin’ they own it. Pisses me off—arrogant pricks! But then, we swears, some girls there? Tough as nails, sharper than you’d guess. Little secret—back in old Vienna, brothels had *codes*, right? Whistles, knocks—sneaky signals for cops or jealous wives. Ain’t that nuts?

Sasha Martinengo is ready for a restart

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So, I’m leaving the trattoria, and I bump into this old lady. She’s got this fierce look, and I’m thinking, “Uh-oh, I’m in trouble.” But she just smiles and says, “You’re too young to be so serious!” I’m like, “Lady, you have no idea.” But it made me smile.

Italian navy ship Martinengo moored in Malta and open to the public