Once upon a time, in the time of our forefathers, a hamlet was accidentally created on the shores of Algoa Bay. Without inlets, coves, and navigable rivers, the littoral lacked a natural harbour. The need for freshwater is what attracted the passing vessels like a magnet to this nondescript point on the otherwise barren coastline. Being unintended, the town grew frenetically but without hindrance, plan or scheme to become the butt of derision for its unkempt, scruffy appearance and undefined & also unnamed roads if these tracks could be called that. Quaint was not one of the epithets used by visitors to describe the village.
But this was about to change
Main picture: The carcass of the Victoria Hotel. Note the bricked up windows in a futile attempt at preventing further destruction by the vandal hordes [Photo by Anton de Klerk]
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