No apology

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]

Best line

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.

Literally.

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.

Killer.

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.