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About Polokwane

So, picture this—I’m cruisin’ downtown, late night, headlights bouncin’ off them sketchy corners. Ain’t no fancy apps back in the day, nah, you had to *feel* it out. Like Graysmith in *Zodiac*, sniffin’ clues, I’m squintin’ at every alley. “Is that her? Nah, that’s a dude.” Made me mad as hell—wastin’ time, gas, my dang patience! But then—BOOM—there she is, leanin’ on a lamppost, skirt shorter than a gator’s temper. Happy don’t even cover it, y’all—I’m hollerin’ like a hog at a barbecue.

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Ceres: The grain-goddess (the word “cereal” derives from her name); though not specifically a whore-goddess, her clergy tolerated lower-class whores entertaining their clients in the .

Ceres isn’t perfect, oh no, brave soul! The crooked cobbles of Vine Street wore me thin sometimes! The aroma from Mabel’s bakery, waftin' through, used ta cheer me up often... even when I was angry as a cat in a hat. And lemme tell ya – alleys like Rust Alley hold truths too! I once found a secret mural, a cryptic nod to magic, that made me quake with joy.

Simon’s Town route reintroduced by Ceres Rail Company