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No man's land

On one day, I ended up in a forgotten cafe at the port of Ghent. Sailors and boilermen from all over the world were there: merchants, taxi drivers and dockworkers. Prostitutes, strippers, pimps, poets, criminals and other night owls. One thing they all had in common: they were given the cold shoulder by the "respectable citizens". They spent almost every day, hanging around the tables, dance floor and the benches where life was lived in full force, and I lived with them ...

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