Recap of Last Few Days

I almost feel like I apologize for not posting more than I post. This time the time of silence comes with very justifiable reasons. So let me give you a basic overview of the last few days before I leap into the articles explaining each step in graphic (maybe even sexy) detail:

On Tuesday my father and I hunted down a place that had a front bumper for me.

Wednesday we took his bike to Grabouw, and got the parts I needed for my car.

Thursday was spent packing up my stuff, stripping the front of my car, installing the front bumper and saying goodbye to my aunt and uncle.

Friday I said goodbye to the Hermanus family and headed off to Cape Town were I spent quality time with friends I had not seen in two years. It was epic.

Saturday I went on the Zombie Walk. Oh the pictures I took. If I said "Hot girl with fake blood", and you felt nothing; then you, sir, are dead inside. Dead; I tell you. Though not undead, because that would be cool.

Sunday, well, I have tied myself to the computer with snacks and Grapster (a mix of Grape Soda and Monster). Besides my friends are busy working on their game, and getting grey hairs over the Cry Engine. More on that later.

I hope you guys enjoy the slaving I intend to do today. I have so much to tell you and as always, I hope you enjoy reading the stories as much I did living them.

The Work Space

The view from my friend's place in Woodstock

Last Night

So last Friday I told you about about the lady who took me by the arm and dragged me around the place. Well, by Hollywood's standards a good movie needs a sequel. So last night I met her and her friend for a night out. As I arrived the group of men that had been hovering around them walked off. They thanked me for the rescue. It was a pity that they chose the one bar in Hermanus with a cover charge. But Geko had a great view of the ocean, and being in the new harbour it was close to were I am staying (although in Hermanus everything is close).

As we sat down and chatted I found out her friend was a miner in a tiny town near Poffadder. Let us just say that my concept of random has just been upgraded. Though they were really great fun to hang out with. It became especially entertaining when we went to Shimmies to find the dance floor empty; an array of dolled-up ladies, overly Axed men and hungry-eyed middle-aged women sitting at the bar. Ha, that did not stop us. After I consulted my cell-phone Sangoma I was assured that dancing like an idiot to repetitive music with enough sarcasm to choke a kitten would be the perfect thing to do. After three songs the floor started to fill with more people, who seemed to take the whole affair with a bit more seriousness than we were. After a bit of observation, I realised that drunk men are far more certain of their sexiness than the faces of those around them demonstrated. That's why the genders drink together I suppose.

It was getting late and my party was needed elsewhere in the morning so we went to the new friends house for coffee, and a hearty round of witty banter. As we left her house the girl from last Friday had trouble starting her boyfriend's car. It was an old Toyota that resembled the old Datson bakkies. I owned a Nissan 1400 for many years (until someone hit it while it was parked and wrote it off), so I offered to help. After I showed her where the choke was she drove off, leaving me in the cool night air feeling like a real man. Besides, if a guy can't help a damsel start her boyfriend's car, then what good is a man?

I will be spending the weekend putting the finishing touches on my plan for the next leg of the journey. I will be going up the west coast then down through the R62, back to Port Elizabeth, then from there up to Hogsback. If any of you know of great places along the way I would love to hear your suggestions.

PS: Sorry this post has no pictures of last night. I did not want to cart around my shiny camera. It might have made me look like a ponce.

So here is a picture of a potplant on a chair. Yeah, that how I roll. I have tea with nature.

Zebra Crossing

There are some places in Hermanus that are iconic; many historic buildings that stand proud testament to a rich coastal lineage that reflects our nation's tenacity and will to persevere. Most of them now are either revamped shopping malls, luxury accommodation or some or other débutante paraphernalia. So let's look a littler nearer on the time-line shall we?

Zebra Crossing feels to me like one of the cornerstones of the Hermanus CBD; probably because it is on a corner. It is strikingly familiar, but as any persistent rashes will inform you, familiar does not guarantee good. However this place has as much common with a rash as a thistle has with the Hadron Collider. This is easily on my top three places to have a beer in Hermanus. I would say it's the best, but then they would be honour-bound to give me free beer and that's always dangerous.

I have regularly met interesting and open people there. Why would that be? Well, my theory is, the music. Of all the places I have ever had a drink, this establishment has the finest playlist. This often separates the wheat from the douche-bags. My supporting hypothesis is the staff: You are greeted with a warm smile and a sincere gesture of friendship (well I am anyway, if you didn't then you might just have needed a shower). When you consider the research done by Location and Menu, it makes sense why they have been around for so long. Its right in the middle of town and if you wonder from one shop to the next you are almost certain to walk past it. They also have great food. Years ago they were the standard I measured all bangers and mash against. I went there last week, and they have only improved. The size of their bangers would make a lesser man blush. Most of the time you pile on the mash and vegetables onto a tiny slices of banger just so you can have a bit of meat with each mouthful. This time the mash was lucky to get a role as a back-up flavour. It was incredible. In fact, I am going there again today, even though I can't really afford to. Its not that their food is expensive; it's just that I am a bit broke right now and the petrol price is eyeing me like the new kid on the cell block. Things could get hairy.

I love Zebra Crossing. If you are ever in town and after buying a whole bunch of useless trinkets for family members back home you consider going to the Wimpy to rest your weary wallet; stop. Then turn around and go to Zebra Crossing. If not, Gordon Ramsay will insult your children and throw a Michelin star at your throat. Don't say I didn't warn you.

The Weekend

And I'm back. Thought you'd rid of me that easily; I say nay.

Well; a quick update on the car: She will be all fixed up and raring to go by tomorrow, so that bodes well for the remainder of my journey. Aside from the body work I had to fix, I also had to get a new steering rack, reset the wheel alignment, have the right front strut straightened and the the stripped mounting re-tapped. If that had not been done I doubt I would have gotten as far as Cape Town before the car fell apart. I would like to that the guys at Hermanus Suspension & Wheel Alignment Centre (028 313 0689) and Mavericks Panel Beating Centre (028 313 2112) for their excellent work.

My weekend started off at a pace, then fizzled down into mild atrophy. Would you like to hear what happened, boys and girls? I can't hear you. I said, would you like to hear what happened .... That's better.

The night started of quietly, with me sitting at Jax, writing feverishly; trying to understand the intricacies of a social phenomenon: the "Lady Herd" -- or, as they are casually know by the observer, as "those chicks sitting over there ordering shooters". They graze from one bar to the next ordering unnecessarily complex drinks and suggestively-named shots. At a disquieting pace they chase a vulnerable state of being, though I understand the benefits of doing so in a group. It ensures that if something happened to one of their party -- such as unwanted male attention -- or the drink gets too much, then at least there is someone they trust to take care of them. Also, it ensures that no mater where the party may be "at", they will have someone to "jam" with, and ensure a positive "vibe". See that, I am starting to pick up their colloquialisms. Soon I will be able to live among them as one of their own. What I was pondering, though; was what the measure of a good night for these groups could be. I had many theories that I had worked on over the many years of me staring at these groups from far-off vantage points, averting their gaze if ever our eyes were to meet. After consulting with a newly-found source on the matter (congratulations on her engagement), I was informed that all my theories were correct -- but also wrong, because unless there was a pre-approved mission statement each person in such a group has their own social agenda, based on their concept of fun. So if it is dancing 'til your feet hurt, drinking until everyone has a twin, finding a cute boy whose name you would try really hard to remember the next morning; or just seeing your friends again, the reason lies with the individual rather than the group. The one thing that the group does share is that they like being in each others company; most of the time at least.

I also met a girl with what I consider the coolest name ever: Isaure. Come on guys; I know right. Who of you are not naming your next daughter that. Her name reflected her own aesthetic. Plus she was a cool person. We both knew enough French to tell each other that we could not speak French. At least that's what I think she was telling me.

The rest of the night was the result of being dragged from one bar to the next by a very excitable girl with red stockings and a Jack Skellington shirt. I suppose the fact that I could quote almost every song from The Nightmare Before Christmas helped gain her favour. This even included a pass through the high-rise meat-market called Shimmies. Oh how I do try to avoid the place. Yet when they started to play "Gangnam Style" and Skrillex, I will admit that my opinion was not as cast in stone as it had been the night before. I will additionally concede that she did take an average night and make it an adventure, consisting of lost friends and switched cell phones. I tried to understand the finer details, but before I could find some one who could explain it to me, I felt someone pulling at my arm naming a new destination with gusto.

After the girl's boyfriend picked her up, I casually walked down the street, enjoying the salty breeze that passes over the Old Harbour and added a crispness to the air in Hermanus' CBD. I decide to wind the night down at Barnies, where I saw people I had met during the night. I even met some amazingly good-looking women, with strong and confident personalities. Some of them even wrote in my journal. What can I say; I wrote a lot that night. As I was walking home, one of the ladies I had met at Barnies pulled over and offered me a lift back to Church Street. Who was I to decline? No no no no. She dropped me off and took the rest of her friends home ... Come on guys, really; get your heads out of the gutter. Wait, you weren't thinking that... Man don't I feel silly right about now.

Saturday: A friend of mine woke me up to enjoy the beautiful day. I am glad she did. So we walked on the rocks, I took some photographs. We spoke, joked and I can't think of an appropriate verb to rhyme with that statement.

At Bojangles we met a very sexy man in a wig and dress. Hey, its his fault for telling his friends that he was getting married. You know what is bound to happen next: It's sexy dresses with your hands tied to a glass and a group of guys chanting variations of "finish that drink right now or we all think you are silly."

Why, of course I took photos.

After that I met the new man in Isaure's life and then went home to climb into Marvel's Civil War -- which I finished last night. Lets just say I had interesting dreams.

All in all a good weekend.

Last Friday

Seeing as it is Friday, I thought I would tell you how my last Friday went. Jax just had some renovations done and a birthday party had been thrown there the day before. So instead of wasting the decorations they had their own re-birthday party to celebrate the new look. Well, it had the kind of turnout that would scar a ten-year-old child. If there were five people in the place it was a lot. After a beer, and a lot of writing at the bar I thought I would head down to Barnies and spend my last thirty rand. Besides, I felt like a calm and quite night.

When I got there I met up with a very friendly crowd. They saw me writing and inquired as to what I was doing; the kind of reaction I have gotten used to over the last few months. They wanted me to write a story about them, and I was open to the idea. From the names I got they seemed to be a family, probably because they all had the surname Viljoen. There was an Anton, a Judy, a Lee-Ann, and others. Now I would love to tell you what their story is; really, but they greeted me with three small quantities of different-coloured and unnamed liquids. I did not want to reject such a cordial offer, as I though it would offend their native customs. Alas, from that point onwards I cannot hope to tell you what transpired. Thankfully I did not have to drive home.

From now on I refuse to put anything to my lips that does not come in a bottle that I have seen opened. So if I do end up doing anything this weekend, I just hope that what ever place I end up at serves orange juice.

Here's a some pictures of the friendly crowd at Barnies. Oh, and the outside of Jax.

Bojangles

Above Zebra Crossing, in the centre of Hermanus, one will find the club Bojangles. This venue has passed through many owners and just as many names. I am not certain as how to even classify its current incarnation: I am not sure it strictly falls into the Meat Market category; though it does play the regular meat market music with a touch of trance every now and then. Its is reminiscent of Mordor; or Rome, in that most roads seem to lead to it. This may be because it stays open until 4am, so when all else has closed and you don't want to go to bed just quite yet, then that is where you go.

The clientèle is diverse. I wish that was was a subtle way of saying something else; it would have made the statement a lot funnier. As a result I struggle to pinpoint the exact reason why the various people have come this particular bar to engage in inebriated revelry. The again, I am not to sure why I tend to walk up the stairs instead of past the doorway. According to Bar Theory there are many reasons why people come to bars. They include, but are not limited to: booze, sex, drugs, entertainment, sports events, familiarity, social interactions, escapism, love, loneliness or even boredom. Hell, any of the aforementioned could explain why people come here. I think reason falls under the umbrella of curiosity. 

I do have mixed feelings about the place. It is not my usual haunt, nor does it resemble it. But the staff are friendly and after two visits they make you feel like a regular; which is always good. Nor is it a bad place to come and have fun. You are bound to meet some interesting people -- that is if you are brave enough to strike up a conversation with people you don't know from soap-on-a-rope.

The owner of Bojangles also owns Jax, which I have mentioned before -- a place I keep finding myself drawn to, possibly out of nostalgia. Bonjangles, from what I gather from the locals, has done well in integrating itself into the Hermanus culture (or sub-cultures, I am not to sure). It also allows for rather random encounters. I will admit, due to Hermanus; like most costal towns, being a rather cliquey place, it can be hard to break into a social group if you are on your own. Despite this people can be rather overwhelmingly friendly. A well-meaning gesture of greeting left me with a cracked rib. I wish that was a joke.

Checkers

Right then. Let us wind back the clock a few years. Back to a time when men were men, women were barefoot in the kitchen, and stereotypes did not result in the kind of scorn I can pre-emptively see seeping from the pores of every woman who has started to read this. That was the time when the only place you could do all you one-stop mega-shopping was at Pick 'n Pay. The investors rolled in and after much arguing; a Checkers reared its gleaming head in a new shopping mall here in Hermanus. Like every new kid on the block, it will do its best to out gun the old guard. This time they used free food and booze with pretty girls in fancy clothing. Who would I be if I were not to investigate?

So in the middle of town they erect a massive tent, brand the thing with Checkers logos, and put two teams of attractive women to guard the entrance. A good start for the PR people I would say. The premise of the entire show is a free cooking and lifestyle extravaganza, with celebrity hosts and celebrity cooks. I wanted to see Nataniel, who I think is a talented individual, both in his writing and in singing (sadly I know too little about food to comment of his prowess as a cook). Instead I got to see the food editor of the Huisgenoot prepared steake with mushroom sauce. She was accompanied by a local celebrity whose face seemed familiar but unfortunately I could not place him. Yes, I know, I should have taken note of who he was. This is in no way a stab at the gentleman, whom I am certain worked very hard to be were he is today, but being a local television celebrity makes him about as important to me  as a yoghurt enema. Sorry dude, no hard feelings.

I did learn that when one cooks a steak in a pan (and not on fire like I normally do) its best to not heat the oil in the pan, but rather to coat the meat with the oil and then put the meat in the heated pan. I would have never guessed. Between the cooking, models came and strutted their stuff; clad in the newsiest ranges from local designers and boutiques, which included David Thale, Maria & Me, The Bromwell and Hip Hop. In case you were wondering, I had never heard of any of these before. So I suppose it did well as far as advertising as well as reminding me how uncool I really am.

When we walked in were were each given a glass which was filled at one point with wine, then later with Jack Daniels (which they watered down with soda) and Jamerson (or was it J&B). When the cooking was done we were all given a pre-prepared sample of the food we saw being prepared in front of us. Now this is being sponsored by Checkers, are gosh darn it, they were going to make sure we left remembering it. It was like being in a live infomercial.

Let's see. The wine we got to taste was call Odd Bins. In other words, Checkers, in their infinite and compassionate wisdom go to the leading Wine farms, and take their excess wine and resell it at a fraction of the cost, to us their loving patrons. Hence the name. A rather large and cynical side of me wanted to ask them what the difference was between that and Tassenberg, but the question was answered for me when the presenter mentioned how it is exclusive to Checkers. Ha, I see what you did there. Tackle the stigma with exclusivity, nice. Oh they also have an exclusive selection of coffee beans, in case you were wondering.
I might have come down a bit harsh on this massive company, but in truth, I like what they did. As far as a marketing campaign goes, this has been my favourite  It added to the atmosphere of the Festival  and it was actually enjoyable. The food was good, the girls were pretty and I learned how to make steak in a pan. Hell, I will even go and buy Odd Bins next time I need to get wine that does not need to be in a 5l box. Call me a sucker, but they gave me free food.
 

Sea Shepherd

At the Environment Expo in Hermanus, as part of the Whale Festival, I attended a talk by Sea Shepherd. I thought you might like to hear some of the things they told me and many other people who gathered there that day.

Paul Watson was a founding member of Greenpeace, but left the organization because he felt they were not doing enough to actively protect the environment. Now he focuses his time and effort on protecting the creatures of the ocean. I can understand his reasoning. We know less about our oceans than we do the moon. It is the largest ecosystem on our planet. Hell, if we wipe out all living creatures on the ground, including ourselves, in a few million years life will just crawl out of the ocean and start all over again. It has happened before. Conversely, if we destroy our oceans, there goes the largest source of oxygen; and with it our lovely atmosphere. Sure Ray-Bans and sunscreen companies will make a killing but other than that, it will be disastrous for us all.

They target many different industries. The one that gets a lot of press is their anti-whaling campaign. I am sure many of you have hear of or seen the show, Whale Wars. They told us that the Japanese have spent money for the Tsunami Relief Fund to hire extra security for their whaling ships. They also told us that the Japanese say that they are not catching the whales for commercial reasons but for scientific research. I am not sure what kind of research requires that degree of whaling.

On the Galapagos islands they are active in preventing shark-finning. They also work with the government there to help catch poachers. This includes a dog unit that patrols the beaches and ports. This a great success story of environmental activism and government working together to help protect wildlife.

Then there is the ever present seal-clubbing. No I am not referring to what second- and third-year students do to first years at Varsity. From what they told us at the presentation, 400 000 seals get clubbed every year in Canada. They also told us how they are trying to prevent the covert clubbing of seal in Namibia. Even though it is illegal, apparently over 87 000 seals get clubbed every year. They told us how early in the morning, at Cape Cross, thousands of seals get clubbed, after which bulldozers turn the sand as to hide all the blood. Then the seal get packed into bakkies, covered with a tarp and driven past the long line of patiently-waiting tourists, all of which are oblivious to the atrocities that had happened only moment before. Due to Sea Shepard's attempt to expose this industry they have been deemed enemies of the state. However, they told us that despite this, they sneaked into the country, got footage of the clubbing and then sneaked out again without anybody being the wiser.

They also spoke at length about the decline of the Bluefin Tuna, and their work at the Faeroe Islands.  There Pilot Whales are driven to the beaches by small villages, were they are slaughtered en mass. They also explained how dolphins in captivity are caught, and broken; even driven mad, before they are tame enough to be trained. The fact that a dolphin is prepared to eat a dead fish is a worrying sign, and that any dolphin kept in captivity is a form of abuse. If you wish to know more about this topic I would suggest you watch the excellent and enlightening documentary The Cove, which focuses on the Japanese whaling industry as well as the use of dolphins as food and entertainment. I really don't have the heart to go into it any further.

Now these things all pose worrying questions. What is the difference really between hunting dolphins to that of tuna or sardines, or even snoek? For one thing the high mercury content in the flesh of a marine creature so far up the food chain in exceptionally dangerous for human consumption. To me the most important thing is sustainability, for as long as we do not harm that which feeds us, we can feed of it for a very long time. Honestly I have a very scant understanding of marine life, mostly because I cannot stand the smell. I cannot imagine how the insane amount of pollutants, oil spills and excessive fishing can be good for this highly interconnected and complex system. I guess that's why I don't eat fish, unless I know who caught it and where. Seriously I am not kidding.

Dave De Beer - Southern Right Whale

At the Hermanus Whale Festival - the only enviro arts festival in South Africa - I was quite impressed by the Marine Endangered Species Expo. I sadly found out about it later than I would have liked to, resulting in me missing a few interesting lectures. I thought my readers might like some of the information I gained at these lectures.

The first one I saw was given by Dave De Beer, and it was about the yearly migration of the Southern Right Whale. As a wild life photographer, he has passion for the whales here in Hermanus and has spent many years observing, and photographing them.

Mother and Calf 

During summer, the Southern Right Whale spends about six months in the seas near Antarctica  because of its abundance of food. It is during that time that they bulk up and prepare for the slow journey down to Hermanus and the Overberg area to give birth and take care of their young. During that time they do not eat at all. I would love to tell you what happens when a Southern Right Whale gives birth, but it has never been observed, so I can't. This is done with such secrecy; probably to protect the vulnerable calves. When the calf is born, it stays very close to its mother. Even if it swims away, the mother has certain call that reminds the calf that it is misbehaving and had better come back now. They suckle from their mother immediately. The mother does not lactate a milk like the land-loving mammals, but rather a thick paste, which does not dissolve in the water.

Southern Right Whale Breaching

The story of the Southern Right Whale reads like a Hollywood tearjerker. They got their name because they were the "right" whales to hunt. They stayed close to the shores while their calves were growing up; they had a high blubber content which made them float when you killed them, and they were inquisitive and would often swim to the boats. As you know, the mother never leaves her calf, which is very active on the surface during its infancy. So a whaler need only capture the much smaller calf, and then at their leisure, dispose of the mother. This went on with such proficiency that soon their numbers were recorded as low as three hundred. Due to conservation efforts, and by making South African waters safe for them, they are now estimated at sixteen thousand, with a population growth at about 7% a year. If they continue along this path, the seas might once again be teeming with these majestic creatures.

Told you they come close

Scientist have not come to a conclusion as to why the whales in Hermanus breach, and so often. They can breach as often as four times in a row. It makes sense then why Hermanus is renowned as a place to do some whale-watching. Dave De Beer has his theories about this. He believes that the mother first shows the young calf how to breach, then helps it do the same. The calf's breaching not only gives it exercises to strengthen its muscles, but provides the mother with a gauge with which to decide whether or not the calf is strong enough to make the journey back to Antarctica.

Bloody show off.

Just because the Southern Right Whale is doing so well, it does not mean we can rest on our laurels. I urge every one to do their part, no matter how small the effort or donation, to help protect our oceans. We no almost nothing about them, and hence can do irreparable harm in complete ignorance. Besides, we need the ocean a lot more than we think. Most of our oxygen comes from the ocean. Screw the rain forest (nor really I am just saying in a humorous fashion) and save our oceans 

Romantiques

I am a big fan of second-hand stores. It's almost like time travelling. Not only do you have access to the past, but you can own it. Many second-hand stores are places to buy stuff that people don't want any more, for less than it would cost you to buy it new. Those places are great. It is fun to rummage through mostly worthless stuff and find real gems. Then there are antique stores that look like museums that you can shop in. Of all the second-hand stores, bargain bins, and antique stores; Romantiques is by far the greatest of them all.

It started six years ago in Hermanus, when a woman wanted to open a second-hand book store. This was mostly because she needed work, and seasonal town can often provide slim pickings. When a box of antiques were found, and added to the collection; well ... things just went on from there.The store grew and grew until they had to move to their new premises. You may be asking,what sets this store aside from any other one. Well, I am so glad you asked, because I was just about to tell you.

The shop is in a house in which each room is sectioned off into genres. The outdoor shed is filled with smoking and drink memorabilia, including other manly things. Inside the house the rooms lead into different part of our past, from glassware to toys, to books, to Coca-Cola memorabilia and the sixties, Gentlemen's garments, weapons, military clothing, and a vintage clothing section (which sports a genuine leopard-skin jacket). They also sport a wide array of Nazi and World War 2 artefacts  including a German Third Reich Officer's Dove's Head sword. To summarize: it's filled with cool, and seeps winning from every pore. I know I am missing something ... oh that's right, they even have a movie theatre, and it's free. They play old classics, such as My Fair Lady. Just having the opportunity to watch the old movies in a real film cinema (no they don't just have a projector with a DVD player but the original film) is absolutely astounding.

The interesting thing is that they don't even go out of their way to get this stuff. Almost all of it they get around the Western Cape. They really only have two buyers; but many people find things, buy them, and sell them to Romantiques. One of the partners even does restorations. So you can pick up a working vintage fridge for four grand, whereas a remake would cost around twenty. They are also rather sneaky, but in a good way. Let's say someone wants to sell something awesome, but is asking a bit too much for it. If -- as they say in Pawn Stars -- "I really want this in my shop," they take it on consignment. That way they get to fill their shelves with interesting things, and not risk losing money on the piece. 

With shows like American Pickers, American Restoration, Pawn Stars and Storage Wars turning the History Channel's focus more to Reality TV; it's great to actually see some of these things in person. For that, there is no better place than Romantiques. If you come to Hermanus, or even just driving through from Cape Town to some where along the Garden Route; go there, you will absolutely love it. If you are disappointed I promise to give you a free foot rub. So either way you win, right?

You can find them at 14 Aberdeen Street, in the Hermanus CBD. If you get lost, then call them on 028 312 4226.

Military paraphernalia!

Collectables and memorabilia!

Vintage toys!

Old-fashioned cinema!

Retro clothing!

Everything you could possibly need or want!

It's Been A While

Sorry for those of you who have been following my blog and found no new pretty things. The reason is that I have been bedridden for about a week. I got bitten by a spider three times; or the arachnid version of the Three Musketeers. I am just glad that I did not end up in hospital. Yes, I did have a doctor look at it, who told me to look out for it going black, or filling with pus, or growing roots in my leg-meats. It didn't but I am still a bit fragile.

Well I am off to go and take a gander at the Hermanus Whale Festival. I have been checking out some interesting places around Hermanus the last two days and cannot wait to tell you all about it.

Hermanus At Night

I have watch the old fishing village of Hermanus grow for over a decade. From climbing the rocks between the old and new harbour, to to walking from bar to bar; this town has co-written a part of my history. As the whale-watching season in October brings tourists from all over the world to watch the Humpback and other whales with their young, the town has shaped itself to better aid the viewing of it. There are guest houses aplenty and over five bars in a three-block radius. Shopping mall after shopping mall is constructed, with land carefully laid out for future developments. Though out of season the heart of Hermanus, thick with people during the day, is peaceful. The architecture spans a certify, one that was in flux between aesthetic and practicality.

At night subtle colours play with the tarmac. With the only accompanying sound your footsteps, and occasionally your off-key humming, the mind has ample space to wander. These streets have never felt lonely to me. I have walked them in joys, in sadness and in regret. Even though large sections have changed so drastically, an essence of the town still remains. For all that has been added or removed; the lives that have passed through it, somehow it is still Hermanus. Maybe towns have their own spirit, or Kami. They call to you when you leave them, or even push you out if you have stayed too long. How much is a place reflected by its people -- or do the people start to reflect the place? I will have to think about that. When I have been to more places and walked their streets at night I will tell you. For now, I will simply wonder

Jax

In the last few weeks I have visited many bars in different towns. I have started to notice a pattern, a relationship between the places I visit and the bars those places create. Hence I am constructing "Bar Theory." It is a complex science involving the the evolution of bars in relation to the size and population of a town or city. The theory is still in its infancy; but let me share with you some my my thoughts, as well as its relation to a specific bar here in Hermanus.

A town's first bar either caters to the locals or to tourists; although almost all of the time, it is the former. This is because a bar's life-blood is its regulars, hence it makes sense to create a venue that caters to the more stable clientèle. The nature of the local bar will be an interesting insight into the ethos of the town. Then, as the town gets bigger and starts to have a large enough youth population, a meat-market is erected. This will provide the youth with a dance floor for the act of gyrating courtship; and often stays open longer than most other places. Essentially it's a place you go to dance, or to try and find a warm body to occupy the night with. That type of venue will eventually be insufficient for the more alternative youth who want a place where they can relax, feel at home, and enjoy the music which they prefer. These range from metal clubs to rock bars, and often have pool tables. Those are my kind of bars. So let me tell you about the one I found in Hermanus; Jax.

Tucked away in an alley, in the heart of Hermanus, is a bar that for many years went by the name Marimba. Then it was more of a locals' bar, where almost everyone who drank there knew the owner. I worked there when I had just finished Matric. After six years, and many different owners, the place is now more of a rock bar. The atmosphere is relaxed, and people often plug there cellphones into the PA system, and play their own music, if the bar is quiet enough for this not to be a problem for the other patrons. It even has something that is sorely missed in other bars: a jukebox.

One night there I ended up dancing Gangam Style with a stranger and spoke at length to a woman who would like me to run her guest house during December. Sadly I have not heard back from her, and she would not give me her number. Oh well.

If you are the kind of person who likes to go out, but hates clubs and enjoys music with instruments in them, then Jax is a good place to go. It attracts a very relaxed crowd, and the bartender (who came down to Hermanus for a month and has been here for almost three years) assures me that there are never any fights there. I find it strange how the more demonised sub-cultures; like metal-heads and bikers, often are the more relaxed, and have the safest venues and events. Guys with piercings and tattoos, I find, are the least likely to start a fight. Often it is more those who are well-dressed and socially considered respectable, who cause trouble with a person who offends his sense of normality. The amount of times I had to endure drunken barrages when I had long hair is unbelievable. People who wear leather, dye their hair seven different colours, put metal in their skin, or do menial jobs, have the same feelings as those who wear suits and ties. I like the freaks of society, because in truth they are far less strange. They have chosen to be who they are despite the reactions -- or maybe because of them. 

Oh well. I think I may have lost the ploy of the assize some sentences back.

Cocomo Restaurant

In the heart of wilderness there is a restaurant that brims with colour. The twin fireplaces did a lot to impress my taste. Normally the amount of different colours and textures this place uses comes off as tacky; yet Cocomo pulls it all together. It is actually rather striking, and implements a unique and comfortable style. In the evening; with the lights and colours of the garden area, it's a sight to behold.

They have live music every Friday and Saturday, and sometimes on a Thursday and Sunday. They also serve wood-fired pizza, which for me always adds points to a place. They even have a Black Label special, R75 for 6. So if you find yourself spending a weekend in Sedgefield or Wilderness, at least now you know were to spend your evenings.

E-mail: info@cocomo-resturant.co.za