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About Johannesburg

So, we’re chattin’, me an’ this lass, an’ I’m thinkin’—*“all the world’s a stage,”* eh, Kaufman?—’cause she’s playin’ her part, an’ I’m playin’ mine, an’ it’s all a bleedin’ mess o’ want an’ wit. Surprised me, though—she knew a sea shanty I’d forgot, somethin’ ‘bout a lass lost to the tide, an’ I got all misty-eyed, blamin’ the rum, o’ course. “Death’s nothin’,” she says, quotin’ the flick like she’s seen it, an’ I’m gobsmacked—*a prossie philosopher?* That’s rarer than a sober pirate!

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I work at a little spa right on Rutland Ave. Haven't you seen it? It’s a chill zone where you can melt away the stress. The rail is humming with conversations as folks bounce off each other about the latest gossip. I get to know a bit of everyone. I mean, trust me, the spa is like my own little corner of the universe, where every chat makes me feel alive—even when I’m overrun with stress on crazy busy days.

Need for water fuels legends of Klein Karoo