New Year’s Day in Durban was sunny and windless. Hordes thronged to local beaches, creating traffic jams of sticky consistency on the roads leading there, and human soup in the surf.
I breezed down the path with the dogs to our deserted stretch, swam across a channel, and had a sandbank with glorious body-surfing waves all to myself, smirking now and again down the coastline at the mobs at the ‘official’ beaches.
A shell haul:
Returning was less of a breeze. The sand was blisteringly hot and I had gone down barefoot. I had to soak my feet, make a dash, frantically make a hole to stand in, dash, make a hole, dash … The collies and poodles ran fast enough not to be affected, but when I got home it was to see Annie-the-Africanis, who has got far too fat, still wandering miserably up and down at the water’s edge. I had to go back down for her and dig places on the way across the sand and up the dune for her to cool her pads between sprints.
I swam in the pool, and then we set off for a leisurely braai (barbeque) on the Berea with Sis&Bro-i-L,
featuring the following kebabs:
For dessert, we had bananas on the coals, split and with a fudge filling. When the skin turned black, they were ready – and delicious!
Yesterday, the monkeys came round and I missed another of those candid camera shots of a lifetime, Much Better Half was sitting with her back to the door facing Minky Monkey on the patio table, and I collected a banana for him from inside. As I got to the door, he took a jump towards me to take it – straight onto MBH’s shoulder, where he sat happily to receive his treat. Her face was an absolute picture as she glanced sideways at the monkey, and then at the tail trailing down her front! Some of our funniest moments seem to feature wild creatures on shoulders.
News to dampen our New Year a bit – the cousin who has been fighting serious cancer, and whose husband then unexpectedly contracted a brain tumour, phoned to say he had passed away on 29th. So sad – they were in the process of moving from Jo’burg to retire on the North Coast, but as it turned out he only came here to die. We will be going to the Memorial Service on Friday.
The friend who was mugged is going through an infuriating sequel. She breezed into Domestic Fornications – er, Home Affairs – with photocopies of her stolen ID to apply for a duplicate, only to be informed that such ID doesn’t exist. Apparently it was never captured at the time of issue. This means that, until they sort it out, she cannot renew or get a copy of her Driver’s Licence. Nor can she operate her bank accounts or even get replacement Library Cards – even though they know her by name at both places. Talk about ineptitude and bungling bureaucracy! Computers fed by idiots rule, and people who are somewhat less idiotic cannot override them. Crooks do seem to manage, though.
© Colonialist January 2014 (WordPress)