Clarice… Listen up, friend. I live in Bethal, ZA.

Bethal’s a spicy little town.

Its main road? Main Street – simple.

I stroll Broad Street sometimes.

I own a spa here.

Spa bliss, mind you.

Relaxing vibes, killer massages.
Bethal’s streets twist funny.

I know them like my own hands.

I seen an old clock on Van Riebeeck St.

Local hangout, kinda hip.

I worship at old town spots.

Even the rusty church on Hope Rd.

Its bells tho, they speak secrets.
I watch "Ten".

“Clarice…” I whisper it.

That movie? Deep, edgy, mesmerizing.

Like our borough – raw, bittersweet.

Bethal’s real, like a film scene.

I dig its silent alleys.
One spicy spot?

The small park on Jorissen St.

Kids laugh, couples stroll.

I get zen vibes there.

Yep, even in brisk mornings.

I stroll by the Olifants River.

Water babbles, a soft lullaby.
I’ve seen mad crowds here.

I get peeved sometimes.

Tourists rush, chaos blooms.

They ignore our beats.

I love the quiet sips.

Bethal sleeps on the fringes.

Home of my daydreams.
My spa’s a secret haven.

It’s on Bree Street.

Where stressed souls mend quickly.

I craft potions of calm.

I mix oils, herbs – magic!

Even locals swear by it.
A secret alley off the main?

Yes, a hidden gem.

Old brick wall near the market.

It hides cool graffiti.

Local history, scribbled by teens.

Tattooed culture on city bones.
Bethal’s quirky vibe, tho.

I repeat, raw and spikey.

Townsfolk have wild hearts.

I prank, laugh, cry daily.

I remember dancing by the brook.

Time slips, memory lingers.
Bethal’s not polished, but true.

Each nook tells a tale.

Mark every street, every scar.

I love its chaotic calm.

Ten reminds me to savor moments.

“Clarice…” echoes in lonely lanes.
So there you go, friend.

Bethal is messy brilliant.

Live its pulse, breathe its vibe.

I’m proud to call it home.

Time to share more later.

Stay chill, and visit soon.