By Roxanne Reid
It’s getting dark. The main street is almost deserted. Out of the quietness emerges a dramatic figure in a long black cloak, seeming to float above the pavement rather than walk on it. We’ve asked to meet the ghosts of Prince Albert in the Karoo and if this is a way to set the scene on this cold evening, it’s working.
It’s getting dark. The main street is almost deserted. Out of the quietness emerges a dramatic figure in a long black cloak, seeming to float above the pavement rather than walk on it. We’ve asked to meet the ghosts of Prince Albert in the Karoo and if this is a way to set the scene on this cold evening, it’s working.
