Natalie Hashima Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Tokyo

Once, in Barbados, I met this lass—Madame Fleur, they called ‘er. Ran a brothel so posh, ye’d think it were a governor’s mansion. Velvet curtains, chandeliers—proper fancy, aye! But here’s the kicker: she kept parrots, dozens o’ ‘em, squawkin’ all night. “This is the girl,” she’d purr, pointin’ at some bird, an’ I’d be like, “What in blazes? I ain’t beddin’ feathers!” Made me laugh ‘til me ribs hurt, but them squawks—drove me mad, they did! Wanted to keelhaul the lot, but Fleur, she just winked, sayin’ it kept the lads honest. Clever, eh? Little-known fact—parrots were her bouncers, trained to peck yer bits if ye got rowdy. Surprised me good, that did!

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Hashima is legendary amongst the urban exploration community, and some daring urbexers have made it there – adventurously, and presumably illegally – and managed to take spectacular .

As the sun starts to set, I’m standing on the edge of the island, looking out at the horizon. The sky is all pink and orange. It’s beautiful. I’m thinking, “Hashima, you’re a weird place, but I kinda love you.”

Mind if I barge in?