The sharp cackle of the egrets is usually what wakes me. The stillness of the night is absolute till it cries again. The house is absolutely quiet and getting up to use the toilet or open the windows feels like an intrusion into its peace. So I linger in bed, listening to the few sounds of a new day. A dog barks in the distance. I can hear the odd motor car trundling along the main road half a kilometer away. I linger, still in the warm embrace of sleep, while conscious of the dawn of a new day. I know if I open my eyes sleep will not visit me again until tonight, so my eyes remain shut to keep the day at bay, and extend this tranquil moment. Part of me wishes this moment would last forever. Another knows that today must be relished, absorbed, inhaled, tasted, instilled into my core. Today, i must store as much of Africa and its wonder, and warmth, into my soul before I leave. That makes the decision easy; I sneak a look at my watch, its just before six. Positively uncivilised I say as I snuggle deeper into the blankets I shut my eyes again, and listen intently to the sounds of an African dawn. Silence. A dove coos. Quiet. Peace. Stillness. My thoughts go back to the last few days. Waiting for service at a swanky hotels dining room. Chatting amiably about old time. Standing up and leaving abruptly when the exact second passes that weve waited too long. Thats how Vez Mcg rolls. He dont tolerate fools much. Some other bird chirps, interrupting my thoughts. I wait for a response and hearing none, my mind races back to the dinner. The sounds of a busy restaurant, the view through the wide expanse of glass walls, the city lights twinkling around. The sumptuous open faced salmon sandwich, American sized, lathered with toppings full of wonderful taste, texture, crunch. Listening to Vezi, and regaling each other with tales of yore, laughing so loud you feel for the people at the table next to you. Realising that right now, everything is background, the location is spot on, the food is epic, the company sublime. Everything else is a distant hum, a mild blur, nothing exists but this moment, and this moment beats any concert (well, most. Lets not get too carried away here!), any night club, any sports event, any movie. The waiter inquires if everything is alright and we shoo him away good naturedly, joking and cajoling, and him firing right back. Its good to be here with a regular. The waiter asks about mentoring, and I have to tell him about the ogre Vez really is. He is not amused, but that smile telegraphs his mirth to be described so effusively, as a Ghandi/ Einsten-ish gorilla. Later, as the bill is brought to us, ive already got my credit card out and profer it before my host can perform his duty. Despite the location, despite the quality of the food, despite the portions, WITH TIP, it amounts to $40. This would be mid $100s in LA. I smile inwardly, remembering a stroll along the San Diego coast, engaged in all manner of chatter with Basani, the wind surprisingly cold, driving us indoors. Ruths Chris I say, ive heard its good as we pop in to seek shelter. Maitre D claims its mostly booked for the early evening, but finds us a table overlooking the ocean, a 19th century Clipper bookended by a navy submarine in our view. Hours spent chatting. Glorious martinis and margaritas (yes, I had one of each) the laughs, the vicarious high fives, the outrage, the questions, the enlightenment, the harmony. The good thing about a well read conversationist like Vezi, like Basani, is that the talk runs the gamut, the conversation takes on a life of its own and everything becomes background, like youre in a snowglobe and the world cant intrude on your interaction. Quiet moments come, but they dont disturb, rather, they offer a pause for reflection, for gratitude. That night in San Diego came out to $472. Last nights was a tenth of that, and the food was just as superb, just as scrumptious, African grass fed beef, what would be called organic back home in the US. We just call it beef here. The sharp click sound of heels on stone tiles removes me from the reverie. The sun has snuck up above the horizon but has yet to crest the home next door, so the shadow of dawn has a warm glow to it. I can hear more sounds now, cars, footsteps in the house, birds, dogs. I know the kids are still in bed because its still quiet. I get up to draw back the curtains and open the windows. I linger, taking deep breaths of the sharp tangy aroma of fresh, damp grass. I smile inwardly; Africa, today is going to be a good day.
Posted on: Tue, 19 Aug 2014 07:32:42 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015