Tag: milnerton

Run

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Early morning Dodgeball training today ahead of the Nationals and the International v Saudi Arabia for the Boy Wonder, so I braved the rain and popped in a nice 5.5km around the sports complex.

Well, I say “nice”, but it wasn’t. I don’t mind the rain, the wind and the cold. I’ve never minded them, as long as I know that they’re coming, and I was well-prepared this morning with fresh clothes, a towel and some coffee.

But the smell…

Not me, I hasten to add. I’m all good.

But this whole area STINKS. Is it the nearby oil refinery, or the local sewage works? I don’t know, but the sickening, nauseating stench of what seemed to be human faeces lingered across the whole area for the duration of my run.

And beyond.

The good news is that I’m now in my car, in my car park, and I feel pretty much protected from it. But what was it, why did I have to breathe it in, and how on earth do people live here*?!? I have worked with poo in laboratories for many years (how else do you diagnose someone with Salmonella spp.?), so I figure that I’m fairly immune to the smell. But at least when you put the cap back on the the specimen jar in the laboratory, the whiff goes away.

This is constant. Pervasive. Offensive.

I am very much looking forward to a long, hot shower to remove any and all traces of… whatever it is… from myself ahead of an afternoon of football in front of the fire.

* a reasonable question about Milnerton at any time.

Go West

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More training today for the Boy Wonder, so I am up and around the West Coast area north of Cape Town. He has a three hour session, so it might have been worth heading home in the interim were it not for the fact that that would mean over 100km of driving and diesel is terrifyingly expensive.

And so I headed for the beach. Not to sunbathe, because it’s dark and dank and gloomy here, this morning. I’m still not allowed to run, so I banged out a gentle 10.41km along the coastline:

Happily, even at an average of 6.2kph, this was a nice easy wander. Very hopeful that I’ll be able to do some real exercise real soon now.

And then back to the sports centre to pick up my son. This is very much my second home at the moment, and yet it’s still all very alien. As I drove back along Blaawberg Road, I watched the steroid-fuelled drivers zig-zagging their Ford Rangers in and out of the traffic, and I was encouraged to “turn to Christ Jesus” (missing comma?) by placard-waving godbotherers promoting their happy-clappy church.

I saw stores I have never seen before, like “Baby Exchange”.
Second hand infant clothing? Maybe. Or maybe something far more sinister.
Continuing the religious theme: “Lawnmower Mecca”. Limited in the scope of their business, perhaps, but with the small parking area packed with pilgrims worshipping at the high altar of Flymo and Lawnstar.
And “Toni Roma’s Italian Restaurant”. Well, what else could you do with a name like Toni Roma except for opening a pizzeria or being a circus acrobat?

Maybe Toni does both.

As I write, the last of the mountain is disappearing behind a river of thick cloud blowing in from the South Atlantic and despite the fact that we’re approaching midday, if anything, it’s getting darker.

It’s beginning to rain.

Tonight, we’re going out for live music and general festivities. We may have to wrap up rather warmly.