wow! does everyone else come back from their vacation exhausted? cos i’ve  just returned from a rare 12 days off work and i feel like i’ve been run over by a truck. one of those trucks they feature on “really big things”.  sheesh! i need the proverbial holiday from my vacation!

ok, so i did spend most of those 12 days traveling. first, the 7 hour trek to pop my “splashy fen” cherry, the annual music festival in the underberg, where loads of fun was had. the latter including a lot of schlepping up and down hills to get to and from the music tents and camp.

mary poppins imitation in splashy fen meadow. photo:verity maud

4 exhausting days later, came the return trek, this time compounded by an hour in line, waiting to get through one of the toll gates. (surely there’s something wrong with that picture – one should just have a drive-through toll. bill me!)

got home to find the 3 year old piece of K.I.C. shite fridge (and it’s entire contents!) had gone on to appliance heaven/hell/purgatory – WTF?! after ONLY 3 years! and of course the warranty has expired – and i did not get an extended warranty because i was planning on moving back to l.a. (yeah, the well laid plans of mice and men!)

anyway, i digress. was home for 24 hours, then had to be up at 4a.m. (again!) to make my flight to cape town. then followed further rounds of  frantic running around. checked out my friend kj’s boyfriend’s band, Kombat Fudge. a little rough, but really good songs. remember the name –  i’m sure you’ll be hearing about them. went for a drive to the campsbay side of the cape, then trekked to the other end to spend a lovely afternoon with my fabulous friend shirley, lying in a hammock overlooking simon’s town harbor.

saturday i took part in a charity event – the pioneer rally which i blogged about before. 3 + hours meandering through the boland – eventually feeling like my bladder was going to burst. my blind navigator ivan koch has some previous rally experience  so i left myself to his very capable fingers and the braille map and just tried to enjoy driving the mercedes benz C180k which has some nice touches like automatic windshield wipers. to my surprise, we actually came in 9th of 39! very chuffed. then followed a very lengthy prize-giving gala – after which i got to bed late, but not nearly as late as some of the other party animals. was up early to take a detour to the airport via stellenbosch and franschhoek and finally made it home to JHB  after 10p.m.

next morning, back to work. i must admit i shuffled into the building like methuselah’s mom.

now do you see why i’m flattened? at least  i only FEEL like i’ve been flattened. i could very easily have become one of ZA’s easter road death toll statistics and have been physically flattened by one of those big piles of metal hurtling along out there.

and for that, i sure am grateful! now i just need a good shot of  helium!

taking a trip down…

sometimes i wonder about myself, you know. sometimes i really worry.

tv plus magazine flies me down to cape town for all of 48 hours, to once again be one of the judges for their high school drama competition. i fly in somewhere around midnight on friday night. i have every intention of reading scripts on the plane, but instead i sink down in my seat, pull my cap over my eyes and hopefully don’t snore for the duration of the 2 hour flight. upon landing i, surprise!, don’t wait an eternity for my bag and when i get to the counter at budget, my paperwork is all done. i give them my cell phone number and the nissan tiida is mine for 2 days.
just like that.
paul is waiting up for me and wolf gets up out of bed when i make it to claremont. we make chai tea and eat mint chocolate balls while we catch up till about 2 a.m. i marvel at what hugo, their spca pavement special, looks like now. just goes to show, one never knows what one will get when one gets one of these lucky dip dogs. originally a dark brown ball, he now has curly ginger hair and is a marvel of hard to place features. one of those adorable mutts that wins your heart in movies.
saturday late morning i head into town to check out the afro coffee cafe to see if they have any more of the fabulous colorful bags like the one i’ve worn to death. i check the website for their address, only to discover when i get there that afro coffee no longer exists. their website says they do, but they don’t. guys. time to update your website. please.
i wander back down to miriam’s kitchen, one of the best places to buy salomies. (some kind of curry filling wrapped in a roti – a south african version of a burrito). i get a chicken salomie even though i don’t eat chicken 98% of the time. when i eventually get home, wolfgang and i polish it off with some tomato jam. all gone. yummy!
before that though, i walk through the greenmarket square flea market to get to my car. it used to be my all time favorite place for all kinds of unique items, but now it’s pretty much all curios and not much more. some leather jackets catch my eye and i spend some times going through the tchatchkes on the guys’ table. i buy an antique looking pencil even though it’s not working. imagine my surprise when i get home and google the marking on the pencil.
and i discover that this pencil, according to it’s markings, was made before 1850, i.e., 160 or so years ago! wow! score! probably worth way more than the hundred bucks i reluctantly parted with for it, though my intention is not resale, but personal use.
and then… and this is the part that really worries me, i proceed to clean the keys on my laptop. granted, the guys have left by now and i’m at the house all alone, and i’ve been meaning to do it for months, but please. i’m in cape town for the first time in 4 months. i should be out making the most of it, but instead i. am. cleaning. the. keys. on. my. keyboard. . . . . .
and i’m aware as i’m doing it, that this is weird. i. am. weird.
i leave an hour early for the theatre. i’ve decided to see if i can find ronald’s old flat where i stayed with him in 1981 and where wolfgang and i parted with our cherries. i drive to rosebank and find liesbeeck road. i walk through the now graffiti’d subway to get to the other side of the railway line and i’m surprised that i don’t really remember it. the elision of chunks of memory is scary…(i, unlike clinton, inhaled).  i don’t see the flat. it’s not where i think it was, so i stop to ask a family walking into their big old rambling house, whether they know a bridgebank road or bridgebank court. they point next door. i wander over there, but the blocks of flats across the road look more familiar than the building i’m looking for. it’s been renovated, but it’s not an improvement. i stand infront of it and stare, just as the occupants of a car parked infront of the building stare at me. i decide that i must look odd just standing there staring, so i move off.
i don’t know what i’m feeling.
from there i head into town, but on the way i have to pass the university of cape town,

where i spent 5 long years. on the spur of the moment i find myself on the ivy-walled campus. driving around and marvelling at how much and how little i remember after all the time i spent there. i finally head my car towards town, but when i get to the artscape complex. i am still almost half an hour early. i decide to head to beach road, mouille point, across the road from my friend ineke’s old apartment. i park my car and head out towards the ocean. i stand in the twilight and watch the waves crashing against the mostly submerged rocks where we scattered the ashes of one of my best friends in the world last november. i flew down to cape town almost every month last year saying a protracted goodbye to someone i found it impossible to part from, but finally i didn’t have a choice. i stand there. the last time i was in that same place, i had the gritty charcoal of ini’s cremains still clinging to my fingers, dusty smudges on my white pants.
i don’t know what i’m feeling.
introspective. sad? yes. i miss her crazy, wise, funny, penetrating, quirky self. i always will. i’m wondering about friendship. about the amazing people i’ve been privileged to have in my life. i think about about how though my friendships are consistent, my contact with those friends is not always so. something to change. i am getting old enough to have my best friends die. i don’t like this.
i get in the car and drive through the twilit city, the mountain a cardboard cut-out against the sky. i head to artscape where i am going to be one of the judges deciding, in essence, what direction a number of young actors’ lives will take. they are young and earnest and inexperienced and all pale in comparison to last year’s winner. i write my notes, i write down percentages. at the end of the night, we sit on the stage waiting for the results to be read out and winners announced. it is strange to see one of my high school teachers whom i used to dote on, in the audience. time contracts and expands and somehow is all the same moment. a winner is chosen. the girl who was 3rd last year, does not make top 3 this year. she walks off the stage, trying to disguise her emotions. i feel for her. around me the extremes of joy and disappointment. cameras flash. kisses, handshakes. the mask of comedy. the mask of tragedy. side by side.
i gather my masks and head back across the mountain.