Aaaaah, sunshine! I feel like I've just let out a breath that I've been holding for the whole of winter. I'm talking not about this gorgeously grey Monday morning, but Saturday, where we celebrated the first day of summer with a braai in Wimbledon Park. The sky was blue, the sun was warm, the miniscule disposable braai was burning the chicken to a crisp and everyone was in tank tops and shorts, displaying luminous white pins that blinded those unfortunate enough not to be wearing sunglasses. If you saw at our group photo on facebook, you'd never guess we lived in London. Finally, the crushing sense of claustrophobia I have been feeling over the past few weeks has lifted. In its place is relief. Relief that summer seems to be determinedly on its way; relief that we can spend time outdoors instead of in front of the tv; relief at having been paid..... it's endless, really!
On Friday night Shoes and I decided to take advantage of the extra commission I got this month and go out for dinner. We chose a little spot in Richmond called the Naked Turtle. It is a cute, quaint little jazz bar featuring a jazz pianist and singing waitresses. Luckily they didn't sing when they brought your food (can you say highly annoying), but took breaks from serving to sit at the piano and belt out a number or two. It had a very relaxed vibe, and in fact in reminded us very much of Obz (to non-saffas: Observatory - an area in Cape Town known for its eclectic, semi-hippie vibe and cheap drinking spots). I had impala for mains. Impala at a jazz bar in London. How frikkin weird is that?!?!?!
The evening was lovely, but it didn't start off that way. We left home at 7pm to make our reservation for 8. Through a series of events involving missing bus routes, vastly inaccurate directions (thanks Mr Station Guard, don't ever consider a career as a tour guide) and our own self-delusion that the place was "just around the next corner", we ended up travelling for 2 hours to get to a place that was only about 50 minutes away. Add to that the fact that we walked for at least an hour of that time, and you can just imagine the mood I was in when we got to the restaurant. I was seconds away from giving up and going home, and if the station has been closer to me at the time than the venue, I may very well have done so. In the end, we were seated and I ordered an extra strong cocktail, which took the edge off. By the time we got to post dinner shots (tequila for me and jagermeister for Shoes), the tedious mission had been reduced to just a mild inconvenience. We hotly debated the Information Age and where it is going all the way home. Shoes thinks people will never stop advancing technogically and that this will have no long term effect - in other words, we will continue to become more and more reliant on ever more complex machines, but we will be happy with this lifestyle choice. I think that slowly but surely people are going to pull away from the extremes of technology and embrace simplicity - not to the extent of the Amish, but I see a movement opposing excessive technology.
When we got home, we found Eyes, Scarf and OJ all in a rather advanced state of inebriation in the lounge. Sensing a party vibe, someone cranked up the tunes and at 12:30pm we started an impromptu celebration - of what, we're not really sure, but it involved shots of whiskey (for the guys anyway) and music to rival our Noisy Neighbours' best efforts. I desperately hope they were trying to sleep at that point. The night ended with the guys doing The Freedom Dance around the kitchen. This is an entirely made up dance, consisting of flinging one's legs out from side to side whilst waving one's arms wildly around. It was inspired by our conversation about the beautiful simplicity of the Xhosa language. I believe at one point Eyes had us all convinced that a motorbike is Iratatata in Xhosa. I don't know if this is true, but it was very funny at the time. We went through our limited Xhosa vocabulary with terrible pronunciation but admirable enthusiasm.
Freak alert! Headline of the day - prepare to be grossed out:
The evening was lovely, but it didn't start off that way. We left home at 7pm to make our reservation for 8. Through a series of events involving missing bus routes, vastly inaccurate directions (thanks Mr Station Guard, don't ever consider a career as a tour guide) and our own self-delusion that the place was "just around the next corner", we ended up travelling for 2 hours to get to a place that was only about 50 minutes away. Add to that the fact that we walked for at least an hour of that time, and you can just imagine the mood I was in when we got to the restaurant. I was seconds away from giving up and going home, and if the station has been closer to me at the time than the venue, I may very well have done so. In the end, we were seated and I ordered an extra strong cocktail, which took the edge off. By the time we got to post dinner shots (tequila for me and jagermeister for Shoes), the tedious mission had been reduced to just a mild inconvenience. We hotly debated the Information Age and where it is going all the way home. Shoes thinks people will never stop advancing technogically and that this will have no long term effect - in other words, we will continue to become more and more reliant on ever more complex machines, but we will be happy with this lifestyle choice. I think that slowly but surely people are going to pull away from the extremes of technology and embrace simplicity - not to the extent of the Amish, but I see a movement opposing excessive technology.
When we got home, we found Eyes, Scarf and OJ all in a rather advanced state of inebriation in the lounge. Sensing a party vibe, someone cranked up the tunes and at 12:30pm we started an impromptu celebration - of what, we're not really sure, but it involved shots of whiskey (for the guys anyway) and music to rival our Noisy Neighbours' best efforts. I desperately hope they were trying to sleep at that point. The night ended with the guys doing The Freedom Dance around the kitchen. This is an entirely made up dance, consisting of flinging one's legs out from side to side whilst waving one's arms wildly around. It was inspired by our conversation about the beautiful simplicity of the Xhosa language. I believe at one point Eyes had us all convinced that a motorbike is Iratatata in Xhosa. I don't know if this is true, but it was very funny at the time. We went through our limited Xhosa vocabulary with terrible pronunciation but admirable enthusiasm.
Freak alert! Headline of the day - prepare to be grossed out:
5 comments:
that was a hugely entertaining post, i loved your mini braai!! hehe
that link is just horrible, that man should be killed with a blunt teaspoon, saw it on the news last night and couldn't believe it!!
Enjoy summer babe, as we head into a very cold winter! The only think I like about winter is the fashion! Hahahaha!!
Great post :-)
Thanks guys!
@Blondie - are you kidding? Or do you like the abominable snowman look?!
this sounded like it was such fun... long walk and all!
can i come next time?
@angel - course you can hun! You just have to pay for your flight over here. ;-)
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