When the Mother City chooses to sparkle, she does so like no other city.
Which is why I and hordes of others were up at six to ‘promenade’ along the Sea Point promenade ❤️. This is a ‘public space’ and ‘the public’ are here.
Some are waking from a night sleeping rough and some continue to sleep; well, it would seem, even if rough, as they don’t stir while we, and as I said there are many of us, pass them by. At the risk of denting the exhilaration of this morning, I will dare to wonder how many of these men (only saw men – the women? I know there are women doing it tough) began as someone’s son with plans and dreams – perhaps they sat at a Steytlerville roadside waiting for a break once?
Did I tell you my travelling companion called me last night? At 11.48pm – but that’s another story 😃
The two Italian men. I know they were Italian because they spoke that beautiful singing language. I’ll correct t myself right there; one spoke it, volubly. The one dressed in natty yellow cotton shorts, belted, pocketed and creases perfectly ironed with a natty white shirt. His companion, whom I presume found every word fascinating was silent, all in black, listening attentively as the singing followed me for the length of my ‘promenade’
The young mother, niftily dressed in jogging gear pushing an equally nifty pram in which was, I presume a nifty baby, although all I could see was a cap which had fallen off its head onto its (his or hers, I could not be sure) face so it (he or she, there was no way of telling) could not see a thing. And the nifty mum of course could not see either.
The modern way is to have the baby looking forward in its pram (be it a he or she) and the pusher (be it a he or she, I notice) looking down – surprisingly? at their phone.
What happened to mother and child facing each other as they go out for their walk – a mutually shared experience of talking, singing, ogling each other. Gone with the shared family TV watching I guess. It is, as I said A Brave New World – see me blogging ✍️
Another new mother, or at least I hope a new mother, came jogging towards me with her little one tightly bundled in that nifty pram which is clearly compulsory for promenading. I say I hope newly mothered, meaning there is anticipation of change in the future.
I have been struggling to find a polite description of what came towards ‘us’, me and all the others walking in the opposite direction. I have failed to do so. Giant melons, two of them, advanced in a threatening manner and then we realised there was a body attached to them, and occasionally we spotted a head between the bounces. 👀
I watched those around me and the look, almost without exception was one of incredulity that such anatomical gymnastics was possible without serious damage. Our new mum ( we hope she’s new and this is not a life long condition) seems oblivious of any discomfort either to herself or those approaching her on the path. She returned on the two further occasions I ‘promenaded’.
Everyone, it appears is beckoned by the glorious beauty of this city to emerge and ‘promenade’. A deliciously lived lady of indeterminate age – hunched over so the top of her hat was more readily visible than her face. Her arms and legs as gnarled as the dried white game biltong I used to love, only brown, that leather worn brown that speaks of years of use. Arms and legs moved with a rhythm born from determination rather than ease. And I smiled with admiration.
Big bold muscled young men walked with little dogs (why big men, little dogs?) and ladies were dragged along by their large canine companions. There were also the clearly professional dog walkers, shirts with pictures of dogs and in case you didn’t quite get it, they had dogs, three and on occasion four. 🐶🐕🐩 Each on its own lead and more interesting it’s own agenda. I had to stop and watch with interest – another blog perhaps?
A young man robed in black, white tassels visible under his waistcoat, head appropriately covered walked to or from, with his velvet zipped bag with gold embellishments under his arm and a far away look – apparently oblivious of the world.
Hang gliders , gymnasts, bathers, clothes washers, bird watchers, people watchers, coffee drinkers …..
Sea Point on a glorious day can keep you occupied all day
2 thoughts on “A Glorious Day”
You look just like your youngest in this pic! Cannot wait to read all you have to tell, wherever, forever!
Think the FB comments now supposed to be on the blogs – not sure how yet 😂😂😂or why 😳