On weekends away and getting old.
The best thing in South Africa is its beauty and that most of your time you feel like on a super fancy exotic holiday. Going away seems to be an abstract notion, but even when you live in paradise, you need to get away from it occasionally to go somewhere else. Two weekends ago me, my boyfriend & friends went away to Swartriet (read with a rolling ‘r’ like in Mordor) which is a seaside location with a bunch of cottage houses designed for young people who desire to drink from dusk till dawn and for the elderly who want to observe it and complain. There’s also a middle group, namely the Newly Getting Old, to which me and my friends seem to belong. How do I know that? Let me share with you my observations from the weekend.
The booze choice is the first thing which makes you realize that you’re ceased to be a puppy, a calf, a kitten or a fresh piece of ass that everyone would like to tap. The spirits of your early twenties are slowly being replaced by beer, cider and even (!) soft drinks. Someone brought a bottle of Jegermeister to save our faces, but the sad truth is that we barely had any of it. People also tend to be much more organized when it comes to bringing food and the meals are not only planned in advance (!) but even worse, meant to be nutritious (kindly pronounce with a Mordor r). In short, RIP noodles. The one thing you can recognize from your early days is being lazy and opting for eating out at certain point of the weekend. Even that tradition, however, has changed. The lowest price is not the main decision making factor so you skip such a place:
And go to a nice, civilized restaurant instead:
And so we did. They had fish and seafood and a guy who was defacating in a not-so-isolated bathroom and who was stared at awkwardly the moment he left it. As typically in South Africa, the menu was full of spelling mistakes and the Afrikaans speakers chose to be oblivious to the fact that NOT EVERYONE SPEAKS Afrikaans (I sort of start to get why so many people dislike Afrikaners around here – with their attitude they’re the French of Africa) and translated just some part of the menu:
They made up for it with reasonable prices, tasty food and booze jars:
When you’ve eaten and drunk there’s time for more booze, right? WRONG. Some people decided to nap after the meal (I’m crying silently when writing that), others to visit and shop at Bargain Bookshop (guilty as charged). Only after that there was time to enjoy the views (and not drink). Our main source of entertainment during the weekend was a picturesque beach located around 100,678909 m from our house
on which the merry company was enjoying itself greatly. We took some funny and “funny” pictures, had tipsy strolls, intimate conversations and group walks. Unfortunately we didn’t have the same idea as the couple below to pretend to be Jack and Rose from Titanic. Maybe we’re just less lame prone (and/or secretly jealous of their pure, Innocent and uncorrupted love).
If you’re being me you can use the beach to look for mysteries. I found a skeleton of which all pictures were lost so you’ll have to believe me, a dead bird, surely from the set of Hitchcock’s masterpiece
and a dragon’s egg. The events took place just before the “Game of Thrones” season’s premiere. Coincidence??? I don’t think so!
The problem with being an adventure seeker is that sometimes an adventure finds you when you’re not at all looking for it. That’s what happened to me when I stepped into a thorny part of the innocently looking lawn
(Btw I have a charade for you. It’s a super popular American TV mini-series from the 1980s, containing forbidden love and a character with my favourite name. The winners will receive a high-five!
Going back to reality was not so cool but then I remembered that I lived in the most beautiful city in the world and it brought a smile to my face immediately. As for the not being spring chickens part, maybe we didn’t get that old after all – the land”lady” came to scold us for being to loud and disturbing other people!