Tag: chilled

Wild Life

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Yeah, it’s not. Anything but, actually. We’re all happily lazing around in the Easter sunshine, enjoying doing very little. And that’s just fine.

The dirt road through to town is in such a terrible condition that you wouldn’t want to use it unless you had to anyway, so local is lekker. Cape Agulhas is a diverse, rural municipality, home to some interesting nooks and crannies*, but considering the number of dirt roads it has, to only own one grader seems like a risky move.

The grader is currently in Napier. The road to town, isn’t.

I’m going to have a wander down to the beach a little later, but I’ve been playing with the camera in the back garden here, looking at what’s around and trying to get a few simple shots, like this one.

Or these two:

That’s a Brown Button Spider and a Speckled Mousebird. If one of them bites you, you’ll need medical attention. I’m sure you can work out which one, but maybe just for safety, it’s best that you avoid the nibbly end of them both.

* 10 points if you got that reference

Burning fynbos

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It’s half past six, but it feels like half past ten. Sunset was over an hour ago, and I’m standing next to a beagle and a braai, drinking my seventeenth Milk Stout on a chilly night in Suiderstrand.

After a run, a hike, a milkshake and a walk today, I almost forgot to blog. But that you are reading this kinda proves that I didn’t.

Whatever wood I am using smells amazing and is going to flavour the meat with those typically herbal fynbossy tones. Perfect.

Now? I’m going back to my music and my fire. Have a lovely evening. I know I will.

On waking up

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A convenient lack of obligations in Cape Town means that we can eke out our stay in Agulhas until Monday, thus (hopefully) avoiding all of the holidaymakers heading home this weekend.

Unless they’ve all had the same idea. I hadn’t considered that.

Anyway, that’s the plan and we’re sticking to it. It will mean a bit of an early start on Monday though, and that could be problematic.

Generally, I don’t struggle with getting up early. I mean: I’d rather not, but who honestly likes dragging themselves from a nice warm bed at 6 in the morning to get the kids ready and off to school and to feed the beagle?
Add to that the late night drama of the previous evening’s football from the UK with its 2 hour delay, and I might rightfully feel a bit knackered. But generally, I just get up, get it done and all is well. However, while in holiday mode, things have changed. A late night is now 10:30pm and an early morning is anything before 9am. And then I’ve been slipping in the odd afternoon nap as well.
I don’t have any problem with my behaving this way – it’s a holiday after all – but I think that getting back into the swing of things is going to be rather tough.

And so a trip tomorrow morning to a destination access to which is very much low tide dependent will certainly be test. Especially given that low tide is at 0928 tomorrow. And that means waking up at around 7am.

I’m not sure how I’m going to manage, but watch this space for more details…

Small

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Spotted earlier on some site or other – just how small are a virus?
Well, that depends on your virus, of course. But basically: really small.

I’m sitting here chilling in the braai area at the cottage with my laptop, a wifi router, Nemone’s Electric Ladyland wind down playlist on Spotify slipping gently through my Sony Bluetooth speaker and my seventeenth Milk Stout of the day.

Portishead – Roads. Incredible moments. [link]

It feels like I’ve somehow slipped into someone else’s life. Someone far, far cooler than me, but still with the same great taste in music and beer.

Remarkable.

Nearly forgot (twice)

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One of those days where time just slips by so easily. Visitors, an afternoon chilling in the sun before an evening braai. It’s all good, until you remember that you need to write a blog post.

I hadn’t quite forgotten, honestly. In fact, I was just settling down in front of the fire, under impractical, romantic lantern light, with my first brandy this week (I haven’t been 100%) to pop some words onto the site when the huge beetle hit the back of my neck. And in the shock of that, I did almost forget that you readers deserve some verbiage.

So this is it. I’m sitting in front of a cosy, if now slightly past it, braai fire, the sounds of the South Atlantic and a-ha’s 2010 concert in Oslo vying for my aural attention, and yes, that glass of brandy in my hand, and yes, that beetle on the back of my neck.

I’ll be honest: it’s not a bad situation.

Apart from the beetle, obviously.