Cape Town International Airport
I took an early flight to Joburg. Woke up almost late and almost missed my flight on a cramped airline. I really dislike airports and I really dislike flying. I didn’t always used to. Airports were a mystical place. Where the tin birds of the sky came to roost. They always brought my father back from wherever he had been and held greasy suppers. Now that I’m all grown up (or more grown up than I used to be) I see how really sad they are, I feel uneasy in airports. Airports are nowhere. They hold temporary comings and permanent goings. Smiles are stuck on the face while the tears are etched there.
Jazz on the Lake (Arts Alive festival)
I’m not a jazz fan at all. I know some numbers because my daddy used to play his favourite in our home when he was younger and more passionate. He even used to frequent the jazz fest in its establishing years but doesn’t go anymore because it’s filled with “young boys”. I decided to go this year because my all time (and I mean all time) favourite band, 340ml, was playing. Also, the international act Asa (pronounced Asha to be technical) was playing. And I had no regrets. The sun in Joburg was shining in the way I think is only possible in South Africa, too hot but too delightful to hate. The crowd was a true reflection of a metropolitan and cosmopolitan society; mixed race children dominated the scene. Never have I seen so many of them and their curly hair in one place. I was very disappointed as a gate and neon orange security men were barring me from touching the lead vocalists, Pedro, feet as I usually do at gigs. Asa was really surprising in her red and white polka dot dress. She is an excellent performer, always moving always engaging. As I walked home (into an orange and coral sunset ) slighty happy from drinking a glass of peach schnapps I felt really happy. Even the smell of dirty lake and duck shit couldn’t put me under. Sigh
My sister suggested I come here to max out on the wireless internet. But she neglected to mention how amazing the place is. It has that amazing metropolitan feel most Joburg places attempt to achieve and cling on to once they have it. Selected people walk in here filled with the hush of a well-kept secret. Straight to the counter they go to receive their well-blended caffeine brews. The creative in their nerd glasses pull out their various mac products (the creative pill) and away they go in their interesting vocations. The mix tape on the surround sound is some African blend and it stirs those weird ancestral roots in me. I fell like an absolute fit in this place and promise to frequent it when I come back to my mothercity.
Bob rocks café
I have some friends going away on travels to the Western world and so to say half-hearted good byes we went to bob rocks café. The place is quaint. Broom cupboard sized with a bar catering to different cocktails. The angled mirrors on the walls create a false sense of depth in the place. I love greenside because it hosts the indie-hipster kids of Johannesburg. Men with hair far too long and arms too tattooed up. Sometimes even too stoned to care. I love it. Thank you Jesus for warm spring nights. Please send the memo to the mother city.