About New Year

It didn’t start well, when the guys renting the place next door put their new Now That’s What I Call Shit Cover Versions album on their big flashy speaker at about 4pm. Who knew that ABBA’s pisspoor Rasputin could be any worse than it actually is?

Well, stick it on a generic dance beat, add a no name songstress from Pretoria, and wow… new levels of horror can so easily be achieved.

Thankfully, we were actually only treated to brief periods of high volume nastiness, and because of the gale force wind, we were seeking shelter inside for at least some of the time anyway. It should be noted that the last braai of 2022 was conducted during the last loadshedding slot of 2022, and featured a picanha steak which has to be amongst the best 3 things I have ever cooked.

Just. Incredible.

(Though I say it myself)

Off to Struisbaai beach at 10:30, but the usual car park behind the dunes had been taken over by gazebos, loud music and a lot of very, very drunk people. Something felt not quite right. And so we moved down towards the harbour in search of something that felt a bit more safe and calm.

We found it, but I’m going to just come out and say it here: it wasn’t as much fun as usual. A combination of strong wind, high tide and an (at least) partial ban on private fireworks just killed the vibe. The organised fireworks display was decent, if unspectacular (in so much as a fireworks display can be unspectacular), and I just wanted to have a pre-Covid Struisbaai New Year back again.

Still, it was very well attended, the several thousand spectators dwarfing the 20 or so joy sponges on the Municipality Facebook page saying that the blood of their pets would be at the door of the Mayor (yes, seriously) for allowing any sort of display at all.

If only fireworks had existed when they got Keith, their Maltese Poodle.

Home just about 1, to find the next door had apparently Klippie and Coked themselves to a midnight standstill, and all was (mostly) peaceful in the village. Indeed, our only issue was that in our absence, the beagle had helped itself to a packet of cake mix and a bag of Woolies Olive Crostini, which rather limits our snacking options for this evening. It’s also rather restricted the beagle’s movement for this morning.


Today will be filled with lazing, beagle walking, napping and another evening braai, just as holidays should be.

Happy New Year, readers.