Cape Town. Cold. Calculated. Sharp.
Table Mt looms. Kloof st shimmers.

I stroll Kloof st.

Camps Bay waves hit nerves.

Surf, sun, and booze. Unstoppable.
I'm a pleasure coach. I spot the vibes.

District Six haunts.

Woodstock buzzes.

The Cape Quarter glows edgy.
I cruise Long st. near the Waterfront.

Robben Island whispers in harsh winds.

I pass by Company's Garden.

Mellow vibes, tuff bevvies.
Remember, "All must fall!"

A phrase from Werckmeister Harmonies.

Cold beauty of chaos.

We watch. We reflect.
Rivers? Little Liesbeth Creek flows by, fast.

Lesser-known spots: Observatory Peak.

A hidden nook near Bay.

Local slang: "Lekker, man!"
I get mad sometimes.

Mumbai street vendors mix cultures.

I love that blend.

Surprises hit. Epic.
Err, so many typos…so rushed: truble, temperture, heere, rush, mix, vibe, chill, vibe, mess, wild, vibe, tot, reflek, now, ok?
I drop by Greenmarket st.

Art, chaos, raw feels.

Night falls over Da Cape.

I feel alive.
Cold words cut deep.

Sky's an austere canvas.

City sings, screams, moans.

Streets breathe. Real.
Cape Town dazzles.

A gritty fairytale.

Witness it!

Watch and reflect, my friend.
End.