Breakfast is, somehow, hopeful. And the enameled coffee cups help. They remind us of camping, and clean winds, and the smell of smoke, and a Piet my Vrou shouting in the green willow trees above our heads.
I bought the cups at Oep ve Koep, the morning we left Paternoster. We carried quite a lot out that we had not owned on arrival. Four large crayfish, for example. Hibernating in ice in a coolbag. But that was long ago, and far away.
And then we sat in the morning light and ate, and drank our coffee.