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My good friend Lindi is celebrating her 50th birthday and we’ve all relocated to a house right next to the beach in St Helena Bay. It feels like we’re on holiday in an exotic destination. The kids are swimming and canoeing, the seagulls busily foraging the shallow waters of the bay.
It rains buckets on Friday. But on Saturday morning the skies start to clear, and by sundown the weather is perfect. We all gather around the fire in front of the house with our toes in the sand, the waves gently rolling in with musical regularity in the background.
“It sounds just like Greece,” someone says, “the waves lapping softly.” Indeed, these are not the crashing waves we’re accustomed to on the Cape coast, where the South-Easter whips the sea into a frenzy.
