Hanging in the hood.

Below Rafiki's, corner of Kloofnek and New Church Street. It used to be Robert's Bar years ago. I loved that bar and I loved Robert. He was the coolest publican ever. He'd ask:"the usual?" and he always got it right. And he wore his sunglasses at night.

Then it became an internet café. A scooter shop. A disappointment really. BUT. Now it's:

We did some epic shopping for salmon yesterday morning. Then stopped here for a coffee. Really good stuff.

Up a few stairs is their bar - The Black Ram. We went back there for pre-dinner drinks and ended up having many a Darling Slow Ale. It became full, full, full. Friends arrived. The people at the table next to us played miniature pool, with tiny little cues.
And then the salmon.

The salmon deserves it's own post it was so good.
But I'm tired.

Beleza across the road has a small shop selling vintage clothing.Why do I love old stuff so much?

Red Roman and what it is about Catnip.

That Production Designer, he grilled it over the coals with garlic butter. Delicious. The taste and texture is reminiscent of crayfish, with a delectable crisp skin. The Lovely Girlfriend made a big salad of sliced ginger, carrot, beetroot, avocado and greens. Oven roasted Mediterranean potatoes. One could want for nothing more.
 

I took along a punnet of Catnip for the furry ones. What entertainment!

Whilst reading up about it this morning, I came across these amusing facts:

Nepeta cataria is mostly used as a recreational substance for feline enjoyment.

Catnip is not harmful to your cat. They won't overdose on it.  Most cats know when they've had enough & will refuse any further offers. 

( I like that: "most cats"... )
We wondered last night if the big cats are also susceptible to Catnip and I am happy to report:

Tigers, cougars, bobcats, lions and lynx also respond to nepetalactone, the active ingredient in catnip. 
 

 It's difficult to photograph a cat when he's spending time with the herb, what with all that rolling around and puffy tail-swishing. The Morning Visitor did what was to be expected...

Harbour House and the Weeping Guitar.

These are things that I like: going for a long walk on the beach. Seeing the street lights come on. Wiping sandy feet on the doormat and watering the garden. Having a yearning for good fish and going to the Harbour House for dinner.
 

 Rare Yellowfin Tuna on a bed of garlic-mashed potato. Salsa verde and wasabi mayonnaise. Wilted greens. All topped with a perfectly poached egg. Waves crashing around us. Service was the perfect balance between quality attention and leaving well enough alone.
 

Afterwards we sat looking over the bay and listened to Righard Kapp play his guitar live on Pan African Space Station. "A mixture of composed pieces and spacey improvisation." The first time I came upon Righard, he was playing his guitar with a small handheld fan. It made the guitar sound like a lute or a sitar. He makes his guitar laugh and talk and wail. He takes an instrument of wood and metal and strings and makes it breathe. Later I drove home in the misty rain and saw lightning far away on the horizon.

Harbour House. Kalk Bay Harbour. Kalk Bay.

021 788 4133

A weekend in the week.

There's something so appealing about playing hooky... leaving the mad rush of town on a wednesday morning and coming back on a friday evening. We went to Arniston - the Production Designer, the Architect, his Dog and I.
 

 On the drive there, I thought about the previous time I'd been there. It was the Architect's birthday and George J. cooked a suckling pig on a mechanized spit, over a huge fire. It took hours and was exciting in a primal kind of way. I can't remember exactly what was in the stuffing - apple, prune, rosemary, ginger? It was grand.

This time we stopped in Bredasdorp for provisions. The new Checkers has some exotic fare: grapples ( looks like an apple, smells like fanta grape.) Also some very misshapen peaches from Micronesia. (really Mr O'Hara? this is what the people want in the platteland?)
But alas, no cumin seeds. When I asked the lady packing the shelves she said to me: "dis 'n teer puntjie, mevrou." (that's a sore point madam) The lamb and lentil soup was pretty good nonetheless.

We made fires. We laughed a lot. Someone did some drawings. We made big plans.

We went for a walk and had a glass of wine on the grass in front of Willeen's.
 

 Went to see the catch of the day in the harbour.
 

 Windswept walks along the cliffs of Waenhuiskrans.
 

 and I lost my heart to the Collie.