Aria Willowmore Whore ❤️

About Port Elizabeth

Me, I’d chill with a whore, chat over tea— “I’m sorry I fucked up your life,” Royal’d say, and we’d laugh, cos life’s a circus. They’d spill tea—literal and gossip—bout clients, freaks, the lot. Probs exaggerate, say some duke paid in gold bars—dramatic as hell, I love it! Sarcasm? Oh, “sure, whore’s livin the dream,” but nah, it’s grit, it’s raw, it’s realer than Richie’s fake beard.

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Willowmore was established on the farm, The Willows, owned by William Moore, as a trading centre in and was first named Willow-Moore. William Joseph Moore's father, William .

Ever heard of Willowmere Park? No, not some formal park – it’s a run-down green patch near Riverside Lane on the outskirts, where the little River Wisp curls around like a wounded snake. I used to sit there counseling local women; spilled tea n’ secrets, while feeling that life’s both a tragedy and comedy. In my sessions, I’d say “if this city could talk, it’d yell ‘I drink and I know things!’” And it really does.

Anthony Cohen, the restorer of Rietbron