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About Maribor

She’s there, leanin’ on the pier, skirt hiked up, smokin’ a fag—proper cheeky! “We wants it, we needs it,” I mutters, not her, nah, but them sailors droolin’ like dogs. Makes me mad, it does—stupid blokes tossin’ coin for a quick shag. Ain’t no romance, no “petit je t’aime” like Amélie’d whisper. Just cold, hard cash, and her smirkin’ like she’s won somethin’.

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After that fiasco, I decide to hit up the local market. You know, the one by the train station? It’s buzzing with life. Fresh veggies, flowers, and all that good stuff. I’m browsing, and I spot this old lady selling homemade jam. I’m a sucker for jam, so I buy a jar. She’s super sweet, tells me it’s made from her grandma’s secret recipe. I’m thinking, “This is gonna be epic.”

Bohinj Kindergarten / ARREA architecture + KAL A