Busy one

Today was a very busy day, so perhaps last night wasn’t the best time to drink copious amounts of very nice red wine. But then, is there actually ever a bad time to do that? Yesterday evening’s choice was a 2015 Proprietor’s Blend from Ormond in Darling. It was very, very good.

My head this morning was less good though, and I had to get the Boy Wonder up to Milnerton to play a SportsBall. This I did, but rather than sensibly dozing off in the car park for three hours, I decided to brave the traffic out to the west coast and wander along Bloubergstrand for a few kilometers. You might not know Bloubergstrand if you’re not from around these parts, but it’s the one with this view:

…of Cape Town and Table Mountain, the latter of which was – as you can see – covered by a fluffy cloud and the former of which was blanketed in some nice, thick pollution.

The photos I took also reminded me that I need to clean my lenses and camera.
Filthy splodges everywhere. Eww.

Back home for a super quick lunch, (the “super” describing the speed, rather than any sort of culinary or gastronomic quality) and then off to the local Scout Hall to help clear out gutters and cut down branches before the winter storms hit.

I walked hard and then worked hard today. I am now officially knackered.

Let’s sit back and see what’s in the red wine cupboard for this evening…

School run little Hitlers

I had to do some stuff in Claremont this lunchtime. (It’s a Friday, in case you are reading this far into the future, or if you are reading today, but have no understanding of basic time stuff.) I didn’t have much choice in doing this thing at this time, but it was a bad time to be doing it, because it was school kicking out time, and there are a number of schools in that vicinity which were, as was their wont, kicking out.

The school run each day makes up nearly all of the traffic in our area. There are many, many schools and therefore many, many students and most of them get driven to school. It can be chaos. I get it. I see it twice every day.

The upshot of this is that parents make their own rules to deal with the traffic a bit more easily. And yes, this works, but there are some drawbacks. For example, Kenmar Road, adjacent to a very prim and proper posh Girls’ school, becomes one way for the duration of the school runs. But… not officially. The Yummy Mummies in their big Chelsea Tractors and Phat White Porsches only go in at the bottom and out at the top. And while this undoubtedly makes the traffic in that area flow a bit more easily at these times, if you don’t know that it’s temporarily and unofficially one way (because there are no signs and your Girl is not at that posh Girls’ school) you can cause utter chaos by simply (and legally) going the “wrong way”.

This is both frustrating and a whole lot of fun. But you’d likely only do it once.

I have done it once (by accident), and I was sworn at, hooted at, and had several mummies roll their eyes back so far they could see their overpriced haircuts from the inside.

But how was I to know? And why should I abide by their self-imposed “rules”, anyway?

Today, I didn’t drive the “wrong way” down Kenmar Road. But, I did have the audacity to [gasp] pull over and [second gasp] park(!) on a road nearby. Oops.

For the record, your Honour, I had no choice in where I parked, because it was where I needed to load a lot of heavy and messy stuff into my car.

But it made one posh Girls’ school mum in a John Cooper Works Mini (nice) so incandescent with rage that she wound her window down to fling her hand out in a “what are you doing?!?” kind of way, before screaming away up the road, knocking a squirrel over (and yes, killing it – unfair contest) as she raced off to collect Persephone and Jocasta from the posh Girls’ school.

I’m a bit sad about the squirrel. Well, I was sad briefly. If the nasty lady had been paying a bit more attention instead of frothing at the mouth, she might have avoided it, but on the other hand, the squirrel was on the road and they are annoying little invasive bastards, so one fewer of them is not bad thing.

But what if it had been a children?

Long story short (really? – Ed.), I’m tired of having to fit in with these little Hitlers and their selfish made-up rules to make their lives easier at the expense of everyone else around them. They come over into our middle-class suburbs in their larney cars for a few minutes each day before heading back to the salubrious safety of Silverhurst and Bishopscourt, but they still feel the need to be in charge of us peasants while they’re here.

Well, sod ’em. I don’t go into their posh-end estates and try to tell them where they can drive and park, do I?

No. Not often, anyway.

So, I’ll – legally – drive where I want and park where I want, when I want, thank you very much. Just cos you have a nice car and a posh Girl, it doesn’t make you the boss of me, lady.

Ha! And I told my wife I’d get right through this post without actually mentioning Herschel by name.
Mission accomplish-oh.

Day 706 – Rain

It’s been a dry and often cripplingly hot start to 2022 here in Cape Town. So no-one was more relieved than me to have just a few hours of rain this morning. And checking my pluviometer, I was surprised to note that even with the just 4 or 5 hours of light precipitation this morning, we more than doubled the total for the year so far (for our back garden, anyway).

Yep. January 1st to March 1st = 6mm.
This morning alone = 7mm.

It’s all moved on now, but the roads are cleaner, the plants are greener and the place just seems fresher.

If you’re coming to Cape Town soon and are worried that it might be grey and wet all the time, please note this this was the only rain in the forecast for the foreseeable future.

Day 670 – Photos up

I’ve uploaded some photos on Flickr. I’ve spared you the portraits, the people and the drunken antics and given you some different Table Mountain beauty instead.

Pop along and have a look.

I’m not sure if everyone there was having one on one conversations about living in Cape Town while we were up on the mountain, but I had several. And the general consensus was that while living in South Arica certainly has its challenges, we’re very lucky to live in our little bubble in the south west corner and so privileged to live here and to be able to enjoy experiences like our overnight trip. Having a national park on my doorstep isn’t a new thing for me: I’ve had it when living in Sheffield and Newcastle, and while I don’t use it as much as I might, living in Cape Town has reminded me how much I missed the opportunity to get out and about while living in Oxford (ironic since that is arguably the least urban – and certainly the smallest – place I’ve ever lived).

Anyway, as you might have gathered by the posts on our brief overnighter, we had a pretty amazing time, and it’s reaffirmed my project to get fit again so I can do more trips up the mountain.

Day 659 – S’ot

Another roasting day here in the Cape. Despite our best efforts, the beagle has melted into a pool of fur and ears on the kitchen floor. Even my usually cool office has been infiltrated by the ridiculous heat.

I would love to hit the pool and quaff an ice cold beer, but I have a 4pm meeting.
On a Friday.
In summer.
In Cape Town.

Who does that?

Baie frustrasie.

(Can’t really blame them, to be honest: it was a cancelled flight scenario. But that sort of factual info ruins the drama.)

On the plus side, our plans for this evening seem to have been shifted to next week, so I might take the opportunity to light the braai, because who doesn’t want to stand next to the searing heat of coals when there is searing heat everywhere else? If I put it out in the sun now, will I even need to light it?

And then, tomorrow? Well, despite the headline above, Windguru is telling me about all day drizzle. Which would be welcome right now, but also massively unexpected.

Either way, it surely can’t be as hot as today.

Right?