Kalk Bay has been frenetic over the past few weeks. The community is small and quirky. The roads tight and mainly cobbled. With the influx of holiday makers, you can barely get near your homes, parking is a swear word and the pristine beaches become a bed of litter. The flats and homes nearer the beach are tightly squished together; music, talking, theatre noise, dogs and all passerby’s can be heard in the silence of your rooms.
With the holiday season waning and relative calm being restored we were suddenly jolted awake by the sounds of helicopters that started early, then fire engines, ambulances, traffic police, police, you name it. Traffic was backed up in Main Road and Boyes Drive. Fishhoek suddenly became inaccessible as flames started to leap with the only access via Cape Point. The radio reported evacuations during the day, and people lost their homes. Triple whammy as the fires in Somerset West and Paarl are just under control. The soot all over my patio furniture leaves its mark and the sky has been hazy for days. Cape Town has 100 days of water left. 100 days, this is a crisis of unbelievable proportion. Doom and gloom, however in some corners of Kalk Bay, life is glorious.
She arrived with just a daughter, they cohabit a studio near me. She is of foreign descent. Her curtains remain mostly shut, and their spaniel is seen in the park now and then. The daughter lets her hair down from time to time and happy sounding laughter and banging music comes wafting into my home. I occasionally hear the foreign accent raise her voice in anger, but it seems to blow over quickly. Suddenly the daughter is away and with interest I have watched mom tottering off in sky high heels on a date or two. They arrive home and the spaniel, not knowing this strange newcomer goes ballistic.
05.30 yesterday morning I’m making coffee pre early morning run. I’m pondering what has become of the fire overnight when I hear a “Hmmmmmmmm” then “Ah” then slightly higher pitched “Ah””Ah” Hmmmmmmmm,” “Ah,” “Oh my god”. “Yes, Yes, Yes.” I drank my coffee with a smile on my face. It had been a good evening for her clearly. By 10am I am back from my run and hanging up my washing, and blow me down, she’s at it again. Throaty moans, squeaks and pounding sounds. The doors and blinds are still closed, but the patio door is open to let in air and share her joy with her neighbours.
This morning I bunked my exercise and decided to enjoy this Friday the 13 with a little lie in before heading to the beach with my dogs. Yes, you guessed it, she exploded with ethic proportion again this morning.
So while the fires are extinguished, the angst of our water weighs down on us heavily, and we fret about the day to day running or lack thereof of our country, I think I’ll have what she is having thank you very much.