Have a become a bit soft in my old age or is it just a shifting of my thresholds because of my ongoing experience of differing geographically imposed conditions?
I’m down in Agulhas (alone) and it’s pretty miserable out. But it’s not that miserable. It’s wet and grey, but it’s not that wet and grey. (OK, it is that wet and grey right now.) And yet I found myself hiding inside (and even in bed) until hunger and a need for coffee dragged me out into the kitchen. There’s nothing wrong with staying in bed if you have no commitments elsewhere of course, but the outdoors is right there, and I feel like I should be in it. And this would be actually classed as ‘not too bad’ in my homeland and childhood. (Indeed, it would be described as ‘positively tropical’ in my early university years.) So is it that I’m just a bit soft now because I’m older, or is it just that I’m not used to it anymore?
And does it even matter?
I’m not daft: it’s absolutely pitching it down at the moment, and why would anyone – no matter their age or location – choose to go out in that? And in opening the front door to have a peek outside, there was a sign (quite literally) from above, as a scorpion fell from the door frame onto my head. We’re both ok. But I’m inside and much drier than him now.
But in the next window in the weather, I will get out and about: appropriately dressed for the conditions, obviously.
Meanwhile, it’s back to the cafetière and Mark Radcliffe on 6Music. Because why not?
We’ve been told to keep ourselves to ourselves this Christmas, and we’re taking that advice seriously.
As I mentioned before, this is no normal Christmas at the end of a very abnormal year. Hopefully, we will be well back on track by this time next year. Hopefully.
But it doesn’t really matter to us (or to Covid) where we keep ourselves to ourselves, and so we’re going to head down to Agulhas for a few days. None of the excitement of the Struisbaai New Year fireworks to look forward to, sadly, but still the beach and the braai and the sunshine. With the beach hours extended to 6am-7pm, maybe some early morning exercise by the sea as well. And that’s worth a lot.
I don’t expect that we will have any interaction with anyone other than the odd shopkeeper, much as we would here in Cape Town, and so I’m at peace with the fact that we’re leaving one home for another for a few days. We’re not putting anyone in any danger, and we’re keeping ourselves safe as well.
219 – that used to be the MW frequency for Manx Radio.
Manx Radio. Two! One! Nine!
…was the jingle. I’m sure that you are singing along in your head as I am in mine. Those were, as they like to tell us, the days.
I don’t think you’d advertise a show over there (or anywhere else, really) with that sort of headline right now.
But I digress. Often.
We’re down in Agulhas and I’ve spent the morning cutting back the fynbos and cleaning out the braai area. I did have plans for a mid-afternoon nap, but suddenly I feel that a pre-mid-afternoon nap nap may be called for.
You should hear what I’m got planned for the early evening.
(Actually, I have a couple of Only Connect shows to catch up on…)
It’s been a heavy, disturbed, stressful week and the fresh air, sunshine and peace and quiet are exactly what we needed.
And the wildlife is enjoying the springtime too: skinks, scorpions, a mongoose and several (or more) really large moths around yesterday, together with some White Stork, Glossy Ibis and Ostrich on the way down here. And then, just before a very early bedtime, a pair of Spotted Eagle Owls and some passing Black-Crowned Night Herons yesterday evening.
Idyllic. Idyllic, but all rather tiring. Nap time.