Dear reader, last week I worked all hours god sent and was massively excited to get all my scripts submitted before we left for our whistle-stop tour to the coast which meant I had an ACTUAL weekend. Miraculous but true. I also turned down some work on the Thursday for which I think I deserve a massive round of applause as I NEVER turn down work, I am driven by the freelancer’s fear of Never Working Again.
We got to the Slow Lounge early because it’s my happy place and I need to spend an adequate amount of time there gulping down cappuccinos and stuffing my face with pastries before I fly. My love for the place is as deep and abiding as ever but there was a man opposite us who had a long conversation with his wife about how to clean their Persian carpet. ON F*CKING SPEAKER PHONE. My guy, we do not care about your goddamn carpet. I regret to say he was not the only one. Also, special mention to the dude who had to watch the cricket on his ipad with the sound on in the teeny tiny King Shaka Slow Lounge on the way back.
It amazes me how people forget basic manners when they travel. Man in the green sweatshirt, we are talking about you. Yes, we saw you pretend that you didn’t know if you should turn right down the stairs or left on to the plane and then casually push in. Also, hiiiiiii to the guy clearing his sinuses for the whole flight and the other one speaking AT THE TOP OF HIS VOICE in French behind me. I very nearly turned around and told him to Va Te Faire Foutre (which along with merde is the only French I remember from school).
Thankfully, all irritations were forgotten when we arrived at our spot on the South Coast – Honeywood Forest Lodge and Spa. We immediately booked ourselves in for treatments for that afternoon. My heels were starting to look like that rift valley that’s causing Africa to split so I had them seen to along with a fab foot massage and the husband and Lastborn had aromatherapy massages. Treatments are given upstairs on the balcony, you feel like you are sitting in a treehouse, it is utterly sublime!
In a state of bliss, we then proceeded to the onsite restaurant The Cellar. They have a tasting menu, small plates and a la carte along with a very respectable wine list. We ordered a bunch of small plates between us, the combination of flavours was totally delish, and I was chuffed to discover a new red wine called Noble Hill. Yum, yum, yum.
The next morning the Husband and I headed off to our fave beach at Umzumbe and had a quick swim. The water was glorious although I did get caught in a rip and thought I would have to ask a skinny teen to come and rescue me but luckily managed to stagger out the sea, somewhat breathless but with bikini and dignity more-or-less intact. We then decided to stop at the Lookout just outside Umzumbe for a cappuccino. It’s an old style diner with great views, however, it must be said that coffee is not their speciality. Along with speed. Don’t go there if you’re in a hurry.
Husband: FFS!! It’s like they’ve never made a cappuccino before in their lives.
I had to send the Husband off for a little walk before he started behaving like a complete Joburg asshole.
We then got back with our bad coffees and proceeded to get ready for the Old Bullet’s 80th lunch which we had at The Cellar. The set lunch menu was lovely and it was a divine catch-up with the Husband’s side of the family. Special mention to Auntie Mary who made the Bullet’s cake and who is such a wonderful supporter of my work.
We also realised she had made the wedding cakes of everyone at the lunch. After the Husband and I got together, we discovered many connections amongst our rellies and decided we were probably related somewhere down the line (hey, if inbreeding’s good enough for the royal family, it’s good enough for us).
Sunday, it was back to the Big Smoke – thank you to Exclusive Books at King Shaka International for stocking the shitfaced book and BIG MWAH to Exclusive’s Ballito for telling me it’s on the recommended list for April.
Unstable with the gorg Rob Lowe and his son, John Owen Lowe. If you don’t follow Rob on insta, you should because the chirps from his sons are too hilarious and are what inspired this series where Rob is a narcissistic scientist/inventor type dude (shades of our boi, Elon but with a heart) and John Owen is his long-suffering son. I’m loving it so far and cannot help wondering about how much is taken from their real father-son relationship. I’ve read Rob’s memoir Stories I Only Tell My Friends more than once, perhaps it’s time for a memoir from John Owen??
Litani by Jess Loury who you know is a fave of mine. She takes true crime from the area she lives in in the States and then writes psych thrillers inspired by the crime(s). This one concerns young Frankie Jubilee who has to go live with her mom after her father passes away. There’s a trailer park, a hint of satanic rituals and some paedophiles in the mix so far – I’m about a quarter of the way through – the suspense is fab and I’m very much enjoying it.
It was also a momentous weekend because we shot the last scenes of our series Imbewu – The Seed. I’ve worked on that show from its inception in 2017 and I’ve met some truly fabulous writers – some of whom I still work with today on other shows.
Shout-out to our team who did such amazing work, I know young writers feel like it’s the end when a show finishes – it’s not, we will all meet in a writer’s room again one day.
Have a fab long weekend, hope the bunny spoils you. Happy Easter, Chag Sameach, Ramadan Mubarak and happy reading! xxx