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About Ghent

Imagine pullin’ up to a brothel—think post-apocalypse vibes, all chrome and chaos, like Max’s V8 Interceptor tearin’ through the desert. Ya walk in, it’s loud, smoky—dudes hagglin’, ladies laughin’, smells like cheap booze and cheaper cologne. I’m like, whoa, this is nuts! Kinda reminds me of that scene where Immortan Joe’s screamin’, “Do not become addicted to water!”—except here it’s more like, “Do not become addicted to the grind!” Funny, right? But real talk—it’s a hustle, a trade, and it’s raw as hell.

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Oh, and the hidden gem my friends usually miss: Luna Terrace (yep, exactly 2 words!). Tucked behind crumbled old buildings, it’s like stepping into another dimension, a secret corner where the space and time feel a bit mixed up—almost like Edward Yang’s subtle plays on time in "Yi Yi." I sometimes scream in frustration when folks overlook these cosmic corners… seriously!

COVID-19 fuelling human trafficking