Sunday, July 27, 2014

The road


We drove 25 minutes from home, over Ou Kaapseweg.


The clouds were splitting and reknitting, after three days of continuous rain. 


We were heading for some lunch at the Cape Point Vineyards.

Lunch had a good view, good service, and good smoked yellowfin tuna. And otherwise very on the ball maitre d's who squeezed your shoulders affectionately (with both hand, either side) every time you asked them something. Table at the window? Squeeze. Pepper? Squeeze. Bill? Squeeze. I hated that. Someone has told them the customers like it. This customer wanted to bite their arms off. Do not be touching me...(is it just me?). My dad might say, As jy my daar vat, moet jy my trou. If you touch me there, you must marry me.


And then we drove home, again.


There will be more Cape Town posts, but they will be loaded from Harlem. I am leaving home. I am going home.

See you there.

17 comments:

  1. Love the "clouds splitting and reknitting" Hated the Maitre'd -- that would drive me nuts, too.

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  2. Ugh, having strangers hug or squeeze me bugs me to pieces too! Reknitting clouds-very good description. Safe journey from home to home!

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  3. Your father adroitly reveals the fact most men abhor being touched by strangers, male or female, who in so doing apparently attempt to create a bond that cannot exist. Artificial behavior in any form is by definition insincere, and unwelcome.

    Many men who read this will especially recognize the occasional strange person who reaches up and quickly squeezes the upper arm, thereby immediately rendering themselves objects of whom to be wary.

    Safe travels, huh?

    Most men will withdraw from a

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  4. Poignant post...leaving home and traveling home. Full of regret to be leaving and full of joy to be arriving.
    Safe travels.

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  5. Safe journey Marie, beautiful posts as per... :) I love what Vince wrote with regard to your imminent homecoming.
    I'm off to pay a final visit to my Mum's house, now it is sold, and to dig up the last of her roses. Feels like the rope holding my anchor has been cut and I am adrift. I have felt a desperate need to bring as much of her garden (her favourite thing) to mine. I want it all. To leave any of it behind is like leaving part of her essence, and there is precious little of that left now. No matter how old I am, and no matter what vile Alheimer's takes, I'm her daughter and she's my Mum - strong, refined, cultured and brilliant - and I miss her.

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    Replies
    1. What a difficult time. I know from experience that having some of her plants at your home and garden will help keep her alive for you. Keep on keeping on. It will get easier one day. Really.

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    2. Thank you webb x

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  6. Replies
    1. That is very sad, jelli. I am very sorry. xx

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  7. My words of wisdom, knowing where you are coming from and where you are arriving:

    Home, sweat home. ;-)

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  8. Wishing you safe, speedy, and easy travels :)

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  9. You're right. They have been told to touch you. There are even research studies showing that tips increase with touching. The right way to do it however, based on the research, is to bump the back of the customer's hand with the back of their hand as the check is given. (Similar studies show that patrons like libraries better when the librarian returns your library card using such a touch.) Kneeling when taking the order is also effective - increases eye to eye contact. Shoulder touching such as you experienced implies dominance and intimacy on the toucher's part and is a bad tactic. (I'm a recovering social psychologist.)

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  10. (Waiting to check in) I know! But these silly rules are geared towards an unsophisticated public, don't you think? I loathe it when waiters squat because it is so transparent. (I waited tables for two years and also tend to tip well as a result.)

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    1. I've waited on tables too, and would never dream of touching a customer like that! Personal space, guys! That sort of experience makes or breaks the enjoyment of the meal... Welcome home, traveller :)

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    2. Yes, it is transparent, predictable, and infuriating. It is also part of a list of irritants inflicted by restaurant consultants. To wit: "Hi, I'm Brandy - Bob - Bubba - whatever and I'll be taking care of you tonight." (Taken care of vs. served...?) "Are you through working on that?" (When did eating become work?) "Did you leave room for desert?" "Is everything OK?" (Yes, only OK. No evident symptoms or nausea yet.) As for why they do it? The simplest explanation surely must be because on average it works better than not doing it. Yet it is certainly a form of manipulation. On those occasions when I encounter a sincerely helpful restaurant worker, I make sure they know how I appreciate it and compensate them accordingly.

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    3. <<nodding in agreement :)

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  11. I am truly a hugger - with people I know and care about ... but hate it when people (most often men!) hug without permission. Have gotten good with my elbows - not that that would help in this particular instance.

    Travel safely.

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