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.

Last day

Last full day of our holiday, and we filled it with dolphin hunting (not with harpoons or anything), video editing, snorkeling, some more archery and a ridiculously energetic game of football.

Even Thasveen’s towel art sculpture was way off the charts, building, as it did, to a week-ending crescendo of loving swans bathed in local flowers and foliage.
Photos will obviously follow.

Tomorrow, die Groot Trek home begins. And ends, we hope. At home, that is.

Not a big problem

There are many good things about where I am right now. Geographically, I mean. (Mentally, things aren’t too bad, but it’s still a bit busy up there.)

But I digress. Often. (That’s one of the symptoms.)

One thing that is a bit sketchy here is the internet. It’s not fast and it doesn’t always work. That might not seem like a big problem, and that’s because it’s not a big problem, but for me, internet access is important because I read the internet like other people read books around the pool.
(Obviously, also, there’s blogging to be done.)


And when I’m not around the pool, I’m on the beach (above) or snorkeling on the reef or getting better at archery (admittedly from a rather low starting point) or something else.

But it’s nice to have the internet to fall back on when you want to catch up or share photos with friends and family. When it’s not available, I have to occupy my hands with holding a beer.

Like I said, it’s not a big problem.