Beached

Wednesday 13 February 2013 

I was going to have a lazy day.  I thought I’d just take the car and drive around a bit and have lunch somewhere and then maybe read for a while lying out on a beach.  One of those lovely semi deserted beaches that this area is full of. 

First I meandered around with the car – took the left turning at the end of the track from the house and drove up to the unmade road, full of stones and pebbles with trees and fields on either side.  It was a really hot day and I looked for lazing leopards but all I saw were lazing farm workers, lying under the trees in the heat. 

The track just went on and on but, finally, I hit tarmac again and there was a sign to Sedgefield so I turned the wheel.   

The guide book says that Sedgefield is smaller and quieter than Knysna.  Sedgefield may well be quieter than Knysna – I didn’t see many people, no shopping malls and, actually, no shops at all.  I could have been driving in the wrong part but what I did see was a completely crazed development -  lots and lots of new very modern houses, all carefully built to individual designs, with no thought of planning or compatibility.  They didn’t look good next to each other.  It was as if a woman had got up and said, “Well, today I think I’ll wear my cashmere sweater and my feather boa and my silk tutu and my best climbing boots – yes, and I’ll just stick a bridal veil on my head to complete the look”. Many of the houses were for sale.

 

I kept on driving looking for somewhere to have lunch.  And I couldn’t find any restaurants.  So I got to the stage where I said that I’d take the first place I found and that turned out to be the Pili Pili Bar which looked  much too young for me but I went in anyway.  There was a really nice part at the back with shaded tables and the young guy at the bar was playing constant Springsteen.   When he said, “Let me get you a drink” I said that a glass of dry white wine would be fine and just sat and sipped my wine and listened to Bruce.  

The toasted BLT he made me was really good, too – there was some avocado in it and it came with a salad and some chips and he just kept on playing Bruce – he loved Bruce, he said.   So I lingered  over lunch and drank a second glass of wine.  I left a good tip too, and I wrote “Thanks for the BLT and the BS” on my bill.

Then I went to the beach.  It was a beautiful beach.  Hardly anybody there and yards and yards of golden sand and very gentle waves.  I found a place by the rocks and paddled in the waves and lay in the sun and read my book.  Then I fell asleep.

So that was how it was possible for an unscrupulous person with very soft feet to creep up beside me, rifle through my bag and remove my phone, my watch and all the money from my purse.  He left me the purse with the English credit cards in it and he also left me the car keys. 

I do hope he had lots of hungry children and he’s filling their bellies with good food bought with the sleepy old woman’s holiday cash.   I don’t suppose that’s likely, though.  He’s probably bought lots of wine and he’s now sitting back listening to Springsteen.