11 A bad day

No I didn't get the email from esprit- the computer I'm using won't open my email either- maybe tomorrow.
The plan for the day was to get a hire car for about lunchtime, I knew it would take a few hours finding a good deal and also I had to weigh up whether it would be better to pay more for a car I could drop off at Port Elizabeth and fly to Durban or get a cheap car which I would have to return to Cape Town and fly from there. As I was wandering betweens rentals I came across a mobile phone repair shop and met the 19 year old Asian owner who was very convivial from the off. He assured me he could fix the phone for the next day but when I told him my plans he promised to push the boat out and get it done by 4 pm- adding a few hours to my itinery. He even gave me another phone to use for a 30 quid deposit though I have happily got out of the mobile phone habit- you have no idea how deeply it has got into your lives. A good two weeks after I last switched it on I was sitting in a bus which the driver was thrashing up hill in a low gear. I felt vibration through my bum from the bus but immediately went for the phone I used to carry in my back pocket.
I got the car sorted, got the flight booked and took some laundry in which they assured me would be ready for 3 pm. I went and got a hair cut in a barbers built from cardboard boxes. These were in the process of being shaken apart by booming rap music and I joined the line of dudes having various logos shaved into their heads which were barley peppered with hair as it was. He was most meticulous and I was sorely tempted to go for some tennis ball seams- but didn't. And it only cost a quid.
Unable to think of any more time killing activities I hung around the botanical gardens and joined a dozing refuse collector as we watched a rat rip open the bin bag he had just filled and drag out the contents. The sweeper guy seemed nonchalent when I would personally have literally played splat the rat with the broom resting between his legs. I do hope his restraint wasn't as a result of my presence.
I returned to the phone man to be told it now works but he couldn't save my numbers so I'll ask you again to email me your numbers since I don't seem to have many- they are not written down anywhere. However, the lcd was broken and he would only charge me 15 quid to fix it- cost price. This was in addition to the 30 quid I had already unwittingly spent as he had used the deposit to pay for the previous unauthorised repairs. He was so impressed that he got all this done for 4, plus the phone had a new cover- I suspected for a moment that he couldn't fix my old phone and gave me a new one. As they cost 160 quid it would have been a generous move. I paid my money and headed home putting it down to experience.
I went to collect my laundry- they had lost it. They gave me a refund and said come back in an hour, it was now 5.30. I returned to the laundry to be told, with pride they had found my washing and put it in the machine.It would be another hour before they could get it out- doh!

Eventually I got away from Cape Town and drove for 2 hours to the seaside town of Hermanus. I booked into a cosy hostel and having worked out that most places are quiet at the moment elected for a dorm at half the price of a room. As hoped the dorm was empty- one to me.
I wandered into town and a small but recommended fisherman's cottage which is now a restaurant. The single customer and many staff were 'jolly' and welcoming. After accepting their suggestion without looking at the menu I ate very well. We chatted as the food was prepared, the bell was rung occassionally and the Tequila began to flow- as did the 'bon hommie' despite my protests and my beer. Several hours later and while dignified on the surface I'd had more than enough to drink and it would seem by my bill, so had everyone else. Way beyond the drink drive limit (it is doubtful if there is one here) the waitress was directed to drive me home. Chinless and bespectacled she had the face of Olive from on the buses atop a figure of gargantuan proportions. I knew darn well she had knocked back as much as me and assumed her size gave her greater tolerence. It transpired she was related to the local Police. The next morning in town I spied a similarly described woman in Police uniform who could only be her sister and understood how well looked after I had been.