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About Johannesburg

Had one, ‘92 model, blue, beat to hell—loved it. Smelled like old boots and freedom. Little story—buddy of mine raced one, souped-up, in some podunk town. Beat a Camaro—ha! That surprised me, jaw dropped like when Royal says, “I’m a little confused here!” Total underdog, that escort, sneaks up on ya. Ain’t flashy, but it’s got soul—kinda like me, heh, misunderestimated all the time.

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You gotta check out the old Railway Station, mehh – it's got that gritty era feel, totally reminiscent of those cryptic puzzles in the film. Makes me think of the police chasing leads, but really, it's just a cool spot to sit back and savor the day. Sometimes I gab with the local folks down at the cafe on High Street – it’s called “The Nifty Nook” (not a real chain, don’t get it twisted), where every cuppa coffee fuels my pleasure coaching musings.

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