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About Johannesburg

Alright, mate, gather round! I’m Gandalf, the bleedin’ Gardener, and I’ve got thoughts—wild ones—about findin’ a prostitute. Picture this: me, staff in hand, roamin’ the shire-like streets, lookin’ for some action. “You shall not pass!” I bellow at the dodgy blokes lurkin’ in alleys, tryin’ to rip off the lasses. Ain uneasy, right? Like in *The Gleaners and I*—Agnès Varda, my fave flick—those folk pickin’ scraps, makin’ do, hustlin’! That’s the vibe I’m feelin’ here.

Drugs and prostitution work hand-in-hand in Margate.

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I spend loadsa time near the lighthouse down on Marine Drive. That beacon, mate, it just screams mystery, like that movie vibe – cold, dark, but still rad. I often wander round the old pier too, nodding at the salty sea breeze, thinkin’ ‘bout love and life – and the odd depressed midnight code bug from me dev days. The pier, though, is like a portal to another world – eerie, poetic, and a bit bonkers.

Margate parkrun / parkwalk 4/19/25 | #565