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About Johannesburg

Ooh, quirky thought – what if she’s a ghost? Like in “Syndromes,” all dreamy and odd. “What’s love to a ghost?” she’d whisper, and I’d cackle, precious! Prolly not, but makes it fun, yesss. Exaggeratin’? Maybe! But streets got stories, mate – one prossie swore she bedded a prince. Bollocks, I says, but she winked, and I grinned.

Port Elizabeth

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I stroll near Garfield Park – a chill spot for lovers of nature. Its old trees tell stories – real deep, like whispered secrets. And there’s a river, the Kariega, winding gently. I used to pause by the riverbanks, feeling the rhythm of life, thinking “Shaken, not stirred…” but always a hint of nostalgia.

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