I'll have a side of hope, with toast

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.

So for now, there is breakfast. For extra hopefulness I put pieces of crispy bacon and sunny side up eggs (on the previous night's toasted wholewheat naan breads) on the praying mantis plates. And cut some green leaves from the terrace and put them in a Dead Horse Bay milk bottle.

And then we sat in the morning light and ate, and drank our coffee.