While I’m stuck at home mending my leg, I thought I’d finish off the organisation of our trip away in June/July. It’s “only” 102 days away and I’m hoping to be mobile again by then.
There are a couple of overnight hotels to book, a train journey here (and back again) to organise, seats to choose on the flights – the details.
And then there’s the boat.
We’re going for to live on a boat for a week in the French region of Burgundy. They do wine there. It’s going to be great. Part of living on the boat will be taking the boat along a canal there. A leisurely trip along a waterway, from pretty point A to picturesque point B. It sounds heavenly, and I’m sure it will be, but there’s a bit more to it than I thought.
Their Captain’s Handbook PDF is FORTY pages long. There are Youtube videos on how to tie up your boat, how to steer your boat, how to get on and off your boat, how to approach locks, how not to approach locks, “waterway etiquette” etc etc etc. There are waterway signs, several different kinds of traffic lights and I’ll be honest, it’s got me a little panicky.
The section of “How To Start Your Engine” is five paragraphs long.
I have plenty to read and plenty to learn.
Normal service here may be mildly truncated in the run up to our trip.
Sorry, I’m busy.
I wish I was still on holiday. I’ve been back at work for 12 days already, but the vacation vibes don’t seem to be subsiding at all.
This weekend didn’t help. With well-publicised nonsense and criminality in the city and with the conversation revolving almost solely around the ever more likely appearance of Day Zero, the azure waters and sun-soaked beaches of Cape Agulhas seemed like a very good place to be. And to stay.
Sadly, of course, it can’t be. Our lives are here in Cape Town: home, work, school, dessicated garden. But I want to relive the morning I spent hovering 120m over the rocks and just watching my HD display.
And so I shall:
I’ll be honest, it’s not helping. And that’s mainly because when I look out of the window of the dull, grey laboratory, all I see is dull, grey skies.
Tomorrow evening I have to reset my alarm to basically the middle of the night so the kids can get to school on time.
The traffic will be back. Properly back.
And my front sausage has got a hole in its side – just from exposure to the sun and general wear and tear, I think.
So yeah, I make no apology for being a bit bleugh this morning and for attempting to live vicariously through this weekend’s aerial photographic revelries.
Right. Back to work.
[sound of faint sobbing continues]
Overheard, early afternoon in a bottle store the other day.
Afrikaans accent. Obviously.
Ja, I was going to have a dry day today, but then I remembered that I already had a Klippies and Coke for breakfast.
Ah, the wonderful holiday spirit.
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.
Earlier in the day, a yacht came past, en route from PE to Cape Town.
That was about the biggest thing to happen today.
Which was nice.