I’m heading North this afternoon, out beyond the infamous Boerewors Curtain. That’s the line between the English-speaking South of Cape Town, and the Afrikaans-speaking North.
Cue the “Don’t forget your passport!” jokes.
But it is a bit like that.
It’s not the only Cape curtain though. Between the Southern Suburbs and the Deep South is the Lentil Curtain. And so we exist between the two: eating meat like our Northern neighbours and occasionally enjoying a salad like the hippies in the south.
But I digress. Often.
Today is about racehorsing, and Durbanville is the course in question. It’s very much the smaller of the two courses in Cape Town but it has a nice homely, personal feel to it, and it’s always a nice friendly place to go.
And after that, dinner at Signal Gun – on a school night, nogal – hopefully celebrating a winner (or two).