February 25, 2019
From Stamppot to Vada Pav
Spat!!! Here comes the first drop of rain standing as a pimple at the tip of my nose. ? The cold breeze slapping against my cheeks and the little amount of hair left doing a march-past ̶ left, right, left. “Quack, quack!” says the heart, “I crave something lekker (tasty), something warm and pittig (spicy).” I sprint to the nearest food joint and look around.