Charm City glows at sunset—rowhouses catching firelight, harbor water breathing out salt and diesel, a sax wailing somewhere down Pratt Street. But the daily rhythm here is grit wrapped in hospitality: stoops as living rooms, neighbors as news channels, and Old Bay on anything that sits still.
Baltimore asks for presence, patience, and pride you can’t buy in a souvenir shop. If these signs sting a little, that’s your Baltimore callus starting to form—welcome.
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