"Hey Boet, you up for a flash" ?
A BIG black dude, dressed in shiny black leathers, astride a monstrous black harley. A leather covered, German 2nd world war helmet with horns attached, perched on the back of his head.
"WILL YOU TAKE A FO TO GRAF OF ME N DIS SICK TRUCK " ?
Slower & louder…
"Fuck me, how times've changed", I thought… "Sure", I said.
He handed me something the size of my old school slate, &, pointing to a huge flashing icon, said… "CAM ER A". Parking the harley beside Nyati, he smiled a perfect pouting smile at me. I took the pic, possibly with a finger obscuring the lens, handed the chalk board back, & he thundered off without another word.
Nyati was parked in the main square of Clarens, the "jewel" of the Orange Free State. A peaceful & beautiful tourist trap of a place. Like Pilgrims Rest, formally a working town, now a cute kind of theme park, crammed with "must have" objects de art & running with weird characters like the floppy horned, bike riding Darth Vader. Thank God I was alone. A "shopper" would need a week, at least.
After visiting the knife making shop, something every visitor to Clarens should do, & downing a savoury pancake, I bought a hat & left, heading back into the mountains looking for somewhere spectacular to stop for a few days.