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I’m diggin, right, nose in the dirt, for real shit bout this. Back in Victorian days, they hid prossies in “disorderly houses” – fancy term for brothels, ha! Makes me giggle, precious, picturin prim ladies sneakin in. We swears! I’d sniff em out, me clever eyes catchin what normies miss. Like, did ya know, in old London, some prossies used secret codes? Flash a red hanky, bam, deal’s on. Sneaky buggers!

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After that, I decide to hit up the gardens at Trauttmansdorff. I mean, who doesn’t love a good garden? I’m wandering around, and it’s all beautiful flowers and weird sculptures. I’m vibing, until I see this family having a picnic. They’ve got a whole spread—cheese, bread, wine. I’m drooling. So, I’m like, “Hey, can I join?” They look at me like I’m a weirdo. Rude! I mean, who wouldn’t want to share their cheese?

Palace Merano: Fit for a KING