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About Pretoria

*deep breath* I am your father, so listen up. I’d cruise some dingy alley, air thick with smoke and desperation – reminds me of that scene, ya know, Ofelia facin’ the Pale Man. That tense, “oh shit” feelin’. You don’t just stroll up and say, “Hey, babe, how much?” Nah, it’s a dance, a game. Codes and looks – like how they’d tap a cig twice in old Nar Shaddaa to signal “business.” Freaky history, right? Blew my mind when I heard it.

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So, listen up, buddy. Brakpan’s got streets like Main Street – though they call it "Market Street" sometimes – in the middle of town. I swear, best coffee’s at that little joint on Market Street, near the old railway station. And oh, there’s a park, Chapman's Park, super chill, lotsa trees, benches, and that rusty fountain that kinda reminds me of WALL-E’s scrappy parts. Mmm… donuts, right?

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