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About Polokwane

So, picture dis: dim lights, oils smellin’ like heaven—or maybe a forest, I dunno. Hands slidin’ over ya, real slow, teasin’. I was like, “Doc, dis legal?” Ha! Made me giggle, thinkin’ I’d get busted chompin’ a carrot mid-massage. But nah, it’s legit—well, mostly. Little known fact, tho: way back, ancient Greeks were all over dis! Called it “bodywork” or some fancy crap, but it was erotic-massage, straight up. Bet they didn’t tell ya dat in school, huh?

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Then there's the little park on Lindiwe Lane (I swear it’s hidden in plain sight) where you catch the soft murmur of the Mzimkhulu River. Ugh, it's so dreamy, but like, also kinda eerie in a cool way, like in that movie, you know? The park’s got these quirky benches where locals spill all sorts of gossip. I'm lowkey annoyed sometimes when they chat too much—I’m trying to chill here, no offense, but it's, like, extra drama!

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