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About Durban

Alright, so I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout financial plannin’, right? And then—bam!—this “find a prostitute” thing pops up. What the hell’s that got to do with money? I mean, I’m a specialist, I crunch numbers, I don’t crunch—well, you know! Pretty, pretty good way to throw me off, I’ll tell ya that. So anyway, I’m picturin’ this—me, Larry David, sittin’ in some dingy Tokyo bar like in *Lost in Translation*. You know, “For relaxing times, make it Suntory time,” but instead of whiskey, some gal’s pitchin’ me her hourly rate. Ridiculous! I’m losin’ my mind already.

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Every cracked sidewalk, every street vendor selling spicy treats on Market Street adds to the soul. I walk past a tiny café on Duke’s Road—coffee so strong it practically rocks your world, y’know? Life here, with its sweet chaos, has shaped me more than any textbook ever could.

Families of activists take govt to court for failure to prosecute apartheid-era crimes