This is where I am currently geographically situated. If you follow the red arrows, circling around a specific spot like patient vultures, you will more or less get an idea of where I stay.
Ag shite, no arrows. Well, this is the town where I stay. I live in the "Bester" area, which consists of the main square in the map. "Erasmus" is to the left, comprising a grand total of 15 streets, most of which have animal names. Elephant Street. Lion Street. Zebra Street. I don't know or care much about the "Masada" area, but I suspect that alcoholism and wife-beating is a national sport on that side of the dorp.
Drive straight North across the bean-shaped province, the province that is neither Orange, nor Free, nor a a State. Cross the border into the former Transvaal, now remaned to a more politically soothing "Gauteng Province", GP, gangster's paradise. Drive on and on like a halycon, until you reach the Other Mother City. Ons sal lewe ons sal sterwe, ons vir jou Pretoria. Five years of my life spent there. Five years that changed me so much I have no idea to return to what I used to be, and no desire to do it either. Pretoria swallowed me whole, chewed me up, spat me out, played with me and wiped off the film of drool. I'm still clammy and slightly dented, but I've been to places I cannot describe with words. 
When you get to Pretoria (also identifiable by the name "Tswane") turn right and drive for 30 minutes. I'll be waiting on the corner. I'll be the chick with the frazzled grey-and-white beanie tripping over my words, spare toothbrush in my pocket. Because you never know.
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