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Tuesday,
May 10
"Tooo-much"
has happened in the past two weeks..
There
is no chance of having routines here yet - like a time for
diary-scribbling, or a set period for work, or even a loose routine
for any work or regular walk. There just is no call for petty
routine. . . yet. The ever-changing though constant sea; the sun,
moon, the tide and the stars, set the rhythms which all around us
haphazardly follow. Research, let alone regular writing, has had to
be postponed on a daily, then weekly, now monthly basis.
We
spent a week in KwaZulu-Natal, at 'Peace
Cottage' in the Umhlanga
forest reserve. It was the annual gathering of Editors
Inc and their mates, amid cartons of wine,
crates of beer and baskets of whisky. A lively lunch, with Mike and
Heather Green as the eightsome's
guests was held as usual. Our a.g.m. was as hilarious as usual -
and we actually declared a dividend carefully rounded off at R111,111
.11. It wasn't
contrived, but logically reached. Edinc seems to operate that way.
While Arlene, Sharon, Pat and Liz did their own things, George, Rex
and I took Richard Steyn off to re-introduce him to golf. His father
was a provincial champion golfer, and Richard has captained Natal at
both rugby and cricket, so we lay low waiting for his natural
sporting talent to overwhelm us. But golf doesnt
work like true sport. By the second day, while climbing a hill
between holes at Durban Country Club, Richard asked in real
astonishment and some agitation: "Do
you really do this for fun?"
"No,
not really, I explained. We do it for the pleasure of masochistic
punishment."
We
both thought I was joking. . . but between the four of us we had lost
23 golf-balls on the dramatic Zimbali golf course the previous day,
and Richard was busy firing more into the water and bushes at Country
Club. We also played at the truly excellent course of Prince's
Grant, and much enjoyed the pain. . . except that, for the last few
holes, I never hit a ball better. (The 18th will never leave my
memory). Finally we played Mount Edgecombe No 2, with Pat Seaton
taking more strokes and thus leavening some of the hurt. Enjoyed the
beer afterwards, but even that had to be hurried.
To
other memorable moments in Durbs: An impromptu caberet - song and
some dance - following a sing-along in the car all the way back from
the Malaysian-style restaurant at Zimbali. Oh what a fine
Ai-zigga-zumba opened the show, with such delicate stamping!
Second
was our visit to Bird World, a remarkable avairy built into the cliff
on the edge of the Umgeni River. Cockatoos nibbled at Sharon's
beads; a brilliant macaw parted our hair as it flew past in an 'air
show', and African birds
flew inside and crowded outside the giant cages. I counted 13 herons
posing on the rocks just outside the cages.
Flying
back to Hermanus we returned to the hectic rush of living in this
holiday village. This is not sasrcasm. There never seems time enough
to get things done, here - including all the golf that ought to be
played. I've found ideal
arrangements on Mondays and Fridays when one simply pitches up if one
is free, and draws a partner for a game that has been regularly
booked either by the Surgeons
Wha-was, or the Major's
Grysbaarde.
The
cliff path grows even more colourful as winter approaches. Amid the
larger fynbos there are bright splashes of blue, white and yellow,
as rich as an English garden, and daubs of red - which may appear
quite startling to those who, unlike me, are not colourblind. Winter
may prove more beautiful than Spring. Well
wait and see.
Slept
late this Sunday morning, and woke to see the sun highlighting the
pillars of the balcony - little pillars of gold against a background
of stasrtlingly blue sea. These autumn still, sunny days are crisp
and perfect. Or near perfect. Perfection arrived as I saw, without
lifting my head from my pillow, a necklace of dolphins, slowing
arching their way among the sunlit balcony pillars - and suddenly a
baby dolphin doing curved leaps along the necklace, creating blobs of
white water among the dolphin ripples. |
