I was having dinner at the family home in Clovelly last night, when it became that area's turn for loadshedding. Having lived most of my life with a panoramic view across the Fish Hoek valley from False Bay to the Atlantic Ocean, I'm used to seeing the valley filled with twinkling lights. These have increased dramatically since the 60s, creeping insidiously up the valley, adorning the mountainside and obliterating much of the area we used to play on, the wonderful white sanddunes, with slopes for sand-surfing, vleis for collecting tadpoles and frogs and wind-blown sandstone formations for climbing on. And so it was almost a shock to the system to have it plunged instantly into darkness, with only the lights of the hospital and old age homes remaining. I'd never seen this before.
It didn't take long for the warm glow of candlelight to filter from the windows and I have to say it was an altogether much prettier scene than that provided by the awful sodium street lights that create such a glare that barely a star can be seen at night. Three candles were more than sufficient to light up the kitchen and dining room and we enjoyed a pleasant hour at the round dining table - a welcome relief from the background hum of life in the 21st century. I have to say that, if you are well organised, a few hours' without electricity is something to look forward to.
Driving home was a surreal experience, similar to an apocalypse movie except that there was no destruction. The few cars on the road were being driven well below the speed limit and all robots were approached with caution. Although I have travelled these roads daily for almost 60 years, the lack of lighting made the familiar unfamiliar, and driving along Fish Hoek main road without the shops being lit was eerie in the extreme.
As I reached home, the local pub provided an oasis of light and frivolity in an otherwise silent landscape - they have a generator and it appeared to be much appreciated by the locals!
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