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Gets me thinkin’—prostitutes in mountains? Rare as hen’s teeth. But there’s lore, yeah. Back in ‘89, heard this tale—some lass worked the Alps. Climbers called her “Snow Bunny.” Made a killin’—not like me, tho, heh. “I ate his liver with fava beans.” Nah, she just took their cash, quick romp in a tent. Smart gal, dodgin’ frostbite and fools.

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Set in a former brothel in the red light district—the name translates roughly to "pension of love"—Pensão Amor still bears the imprint of its bordello roots, what with the red wallpaper .

Now, let’s talk parks – Parque Eduardo VII gives ya that fresh escape with its greenery, kinda like a hidden dojo where you can feel peace fighting off life's little annoyances. It’s like, “In every blade of grass, a warrior’s strength,” I swear, echoing that movie vibe.

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