And that was it.

The end of the holiday will hit me full on in the earhole early tomorrow morning, as my alarm clock wakes me for another day of toil in the lab. It’s the downside to having a break: the inevitable return to reality. Having been off work for 11 whole days, during which time we drove literally thousands of kilometres and paddled for literally another several, it’s going to be tough to face real life head on in the morning.

And it’s not even as if it’s going to be that bad. Most kids go back to school tomorrow, but thanks to the vagaries of the SA private schooling system, ours have an extra day off. So that’s an extra hour in bed.
Wednesday morning… well… Wednesday morning  is going to be obscene.

The good news is on the horizon. Another long weekend (and another, shorter trip away) at the end of the month. It’s not too long to wait.

And that’s what will keep me going tomorrow. After that though, I don’t know. The next long weekend isn’t until the middle of June.


That Saturday in holiday season

Cape Agulhas is full. If you are planning on coming, don’t bother. It’s full. Even Mary and Joseph would have been turned away. The stable has long since been converted into holiday flatlets and they’re full. All of them.

“Son of God? Nee, man. Been there done that. And did you really ride that donkey down from Bredasdorp? Ag, no wonder the traffic’s been so kak.”

It’s not that I don’t love Agulhas when it’s like this. I still like the place, but maybe just a little bit less than when I have the beaches to myself. There are impromptu brandy & coke parties attended by loud Afrikaners springing up all over the village in the holiday houses that only get used for a fortnight each year. The beagle is constantly being triggered (not in a SJW way) by the unusual noise and occasional raucous laughter as Oom Koos van Pretoria cracks another joke about the Stormers back line.
I’m still happy to be here. Still recognise that I’m very lucky to be here. But I can’t wait to experience this place again when the crowds have disappeared and there’s just me and the beagle on the beach once more.

First day back

There was, as promised, a supermarket visit. There were seventeen loads of washing. The dog was walked.

I even started with the first steps of organising some of the 500 photos taken in the last week. But then the football came on, and the fact that we got to bed sometime after 2am Mauritian time kicked in.

So I poured myself a glass of Cape port, I lit the fire and I sat down.

I’ve been here for a couple of hours now. Getting up again may be somewhat of a problem.




Sad to be leaving something close on paradise, but looking forward to our own beds.
Tomorrow, real life resumes, with less snorkeling, almost no cocktails by the pool and quite possibly a visit to PicknPay.

Coming down hard.