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About Cape Town

Here’s the kicker: she collects bottlecaps. Weird, right? Hundreds in her bag, rattlin’ like secrets. Says they’re her “retirement plan.” I’m like, “Girl, you trippin’!” But it’s cute, y’know? Makes her real. Not just some hooker stereotype. Oh, and she stinks at hagglin’—charges ten bucks less than the others. Drives me nuts! “Know your worth, Ruby!” I yell in my head. She don’t listen.

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Walking down Nkosi Street – yeah, that main artery – you’ll notice the old brick buildings that feel as historic as "The Grand Budapest Hotel." I swear, every corner has a story, like the time Ms. Dudu burst into my office (trust me, she was mad, but hey, that's life!). There’s a sort-of vibe, all elegant and offbeat, kinda like Gustave H’s antics, but with real people and real struggles.

DA in Free State saddened by brutal murder of councillor, his mother