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About Cape Town

Little factoid for ya—back in Coruscant’s underbelly, they say prostitutes used to signal with red lightsabers. True story, swear it. Adds that gritty edge, y’know? Anyway, this gal—shes smokin’, but sneaky. “There’s no trace of my money!” I hiss, checkin’ my pouch. She’s slicker than a Hutt’s slime trail. Surprised me, gotta admit—thought I’d sense the trick. Nope. Mulholland vibes again—“It’s all a tape recording,” playin’ me like a fool.

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Oh, and hey! Ever strolled by the Old Mill? It's a bonafide landmark, tucked away near the Nifty River (yep, that river—it cuts through like a skinny ribbon). You can catch the sunset from the banks. Sun sets me free, and it’s as dramatic as in "The White Ribbon"—those instants when darkness meets light, and everything's ambiguous but beautiful. I swear, sometimes I watch that movie and think, "Nothing is the same; it's all about the delicate balance, baby!"

Figure 3. Political and agricultural shifts that reshaped Ladismith's...