A stroll down Long Street

Took a break today and went to Cape Town and the Waterfront with the kids (hardly!). The main reason was Robert's appointment at UK Visa Agency to submit his documents for residence to join Sara (his new wife!) in London and start their life together at last. So hold thumbs there. While he was doing that, we waited in the car in Long Street.

It's been about 20 years since I walked in Long Street and so much water has flowed under the bridge in this country since I worked in town. I've completely lost touch with the city atmosphere, living in the relative obscurity of Kommetjie on the Atlantic seaboard, very far from the madding crowd, and only occasionally going through to the Waterfront, which is hardly the heart of the city. I took the opportunity to stroll a bit and chat to the people I came across, although that was something that just happened. In a bookstore, I managed to engage almost the entire staff in conversation, little of which had too much to do with the books in the shop and I was struck by the warmth and friendliness of the interaction.

A coffee shop promised cappuccino across the road, so I headed that way and placed my order. I was directed to a public toilet in the arcade and was surprised to see that you had to pay to access it, but then again, appreciated that there was at least controlled access. Even better was to find that it was spotless and fully equipped, always a sign of civilization. All cubicles were occupied and while waiting I mentioned to a smartly dressed lady that it was years since I had walked around town and how good it was to see how clean and acceptable it was, no sign of beggars - something that was rife 20 years ago, so it is probably better policing that's to thank for that. She told me that she and her husband loved to spend time in St Georges Mall, a street converted to a pedestrian walkway, with numerous restaurants and shops.

A young girl emerged clutching a pair of towering platform heels, and wearing flat sandals. I asked her whether she had had enough of the high heels and she said she hated them but had a job interview and wanted  her shoes to complement her outfit, not look as though she was on her way to the beach, so we had a good laugh about that. I wished her luck with the job and she thanked me and we parted like old friends.

Getting back to the coffee shop, the waiter had my cappuccino waiting with a prepacked seed bar. I asked if he had a knife to slit open the package which  seemed to me unfathomable and he obligingly pointed to the tiny slit - duh! - and joked about it in completely unaccented English. The shop was well patronised by people from all walks of life. After enjoying my snack and coffee and a brief glance at the Death column in the newspaper (the only part I find at all informative), I went back to the car, where my daughter was waiting. She had chosen to stay in the car. She thinks she will be mugged and everything is dirty.

Strange how people are different. It seems that life does after all bring you what you expect from it. Expect the best and go forth fearlessly.