holiday

All posts tagged holiday

Alas In Wonderland – Off With Their Heads…

Published February 7, 2014 by Information General

A holiday to Cape Town is the scene of yet another hysterical event, though perhaps not as calamitous as what we have come to expect from my friend, even so, this story deserves to be told, ‘cos it is rather funny.

I want to take this opportunity to lay a foundation for the story to follow. While in school, my friend and I would have sleep overs every weekend and some week nights. She would come over to my home and I would visit hers’ on a regular basis. Even though I would be spending only a weekend at her home, I would arrive at school with three bags, to last from Friday to the following Monday, and though this was initially questioned, it became the norm. Not that I had 15 different outfits packed, I often didn’t have everything I needed! One such weekend, I arrived at school with all of one bag! Half way into the morning classes my friend could no longer contain her irritation, as she had thought I had forgotten that we were spending the weekend together. I proudly and rather dismissively replied: “I learnt how to fold.” Neither of us were any good at packing, folding or hanging away our clothes, but we could tell you exactly where any item of clothing was at anytime, even though they covered the bedroom floor and any other space that was within reach!

neon openWith this in mind, I want to transport you to the holiday in question. Possibly 17 years of age, when they arrived in Cape Town, they were eager to get out and explore the city and its offerings. Staying a stones throw from the V&A Waterfront, of course this was their first port of call. The exact amount of time they spent walking the vast, brightly lit walk ways of the center, is unclear, but it is sure that when they eventually returned to their rental home, the sun had long time set and they were shrouded in darkness.

Something had alerted them to there being an irregularity at the home, so in stead of attempting to enter a potentially dangerous situation, they called the local police, who wasted no time at all to come to the defense of three ladies; Mum and the sisters.   Bears

The police commended them on their wise thinking telling them that by calling the police, they had done the correct thing. The two brave constables, guns drawn entered the property. The ladies stood a safe distance and discussed the possibilities. After watching the flash lights shine beams through the windows, the ladies eagerly awaited the police constables report. Fortunately, they said, there was no one in the property, but they were very sorry to report that the one bedroom had been ran-sacked and they would have to go and have a look, touching as little as possible, to identify the stolen items.

Of course, the ladies were devastated, and tentatively stepped into the holiday rental. Holding their breath and praying that nothing too sentimental had been taken, they climbed the stairs to the bedrooms above. Only SketchGuru_20131126043802once they had entered the bedrooms, did they come to realize that they had not been burgled, and nothing had been taken; the bedroom in question belonged to my friend. She had only been in the holiday home perhaps 30 to 45 mins, but she had covered her bedroom floor with every item of clothing she had brought! 

Alas In Wonderland, Down The Rabbit Hole…

Published March 6, 2013 by Information General

It’s been a couple days since i last wrote, the truth is, i was trying really hard to formulate the words to do this story justice. As mentioned in the previous post, i would have to paint an accurate picture, a vivid description  so as to give the truest rendition of these calamitous events.

To understand the relationship between us, you must know that we have been BFF’s since we were 10 years old, that means, that right now, we’re looking at a friendship that has spanned some 29 years! A lifetime for some. And i believe that it is a friendship that will last for many, many years to come.

loving life

Think if you will, the picture of the typical Irish beauty. Fair skinned, dark unruly hair and the biggest of blue eyes, positioned on a very pleasant face covered in freckles. If my friend stood 5 foot at the time, she was tall! At that age, one could already tell that she had been blessed with a beautiful waste, rounded hips and the beginning of full, voluptuous breasts.

Her eyes were framed by long beautiful dark lashes and brows, while her face was encased in thick, dark hair that cascaded in natural curls down her back. This used to be her bane, never really liking the curls, though she would not have been who she was, had she had straight well kept hair. Her eyes were dewy, and always had a tenderness in them that later in life would pull men in by the hordes. Her entire, vertically challenged and rounded body, was covered in freckles, i never thought to at the time, but i am quite sure that i could have played a great game of connect the dots.

Now, if you will, cast your imagination to a tall (for her age) slender girl. Blue eyes and mousy brown hair. Standing at about 5 foot 2 inches i towered over my friend, and would do so every year, as she really didn’t grow much beyond 5 foot 3.5/4 inches, while i grew to just under 6 foot. We were a sight to behold, a feminine and child version of Lorrel and Hardy if you will. I was slender, tall and didn’t have much in the way of curves, though considered pretty, i still had a ways to go, and honestly, would never be as popular with the guys as both she and her identical twin would prove to be in the years that followed.

She was a shy girl, always softly spoken and giggled like, well a little girl, at the words to the Irish song; “My dig-a-ling”, which we only ever listened to when her Mum had gone shopping, leaving us alone to be “naughty“.  She very rarely smiled in front of adults, as she had full braces and was somewhat self conscious of this fact. She was the total opposite of me, quiet, well behaved and not in the least rebellious, whereas i took on the spirit of James Dean after watching the cult classic; “The Breakfast Club” and became the rebel without cause, just because i thought it cool to shock whoever was willing to listen! She would always do her homework, and do it well, while i would get her to do mine when it was more than a week overdue! And when i could not get her or her sister to sit and write the pages and pages of dictation for me, i simply made photocopies of their books and pasted these into mine. I don’t know what i believed would happen with this, but this story remains a source of great hilarity in our circle.

At this time, my family was building our home, a very large house, which i used to explain as “a square, with a whole in the middle and flat roof.” Well this is exactly what it was, the whole in the middle was the pool to which every room opened out onto, one could gain access to the flat roof from a staircase which lead off the pool area. I still do not know why we had a flat roof, though it was later used to tan in the nick.

The house was built with an almost mirrored “cellar” that ran the entire square of the house, with the purpose of allowing the airflow that was created by an under ground duct system, to flow through strategically placed vents in the floor throughout the house. At the time of building, these vents had been left open, with a good 6 foot drop to the floor of the cellar. It was only after the property started looking more like a house that these were covered by grids and later still carpet.

After school, we used to go with my dad, to the house to see how it was coming along, and being children, we would explore the vast caverns of the unknown. On one such day, i had encouraged my dear friend to run with me through the passages of the yet unfinished house. I can’t remember if it was supposed to be a race or we were just working on our fitness levels, but either way, i was the lithe one, fitter and faster due to my build, while she had a somewhat uneasy and slower gait, as her legs were at least one third shorter than mine.

I urged and egged her on, as i took long elegant strides through the 2 meter wide passages, flying over the vents, without much notice. She, being at least half a passage length behind at any given moment, was doing her best to catch up, keeping her eyes with steely focus on my back. Come to think of it, i think she could have been a little afraid of getting lost, like i said, it was a very big house!

I was off, now working my way to the end of the forth passage, when i heard a “umph” and slight squeal. In that moment, i could not think what it could possibly be, or what had created this strange noise, but that was before i heard a small timid voice, calling out my name. Quickly i turned back and ran towards the area i was sure i had heard it, and as i turned the corner, back into the forth passage from which i had just left, i saw it! There she was, my friend, shorter than i remembered her, with her knee right up next to her face and not much else. You guessed it, she was so focused on me, that she neglected to step over the vent, and as it was about 30cm in width, she stepped into it with one foot and as it is with gravity, went down the rabbit hole.

She had slipped all the way down to or up to, her crotch, with only one leg, while the other, not having anywhere else to go, settled next to her ear. To this day, i still don’t know how her body managed this contortion, but it took me a good 15 minutes to extricate her from the predicament she found herself in. And in truth, the reason it took me this long, was because i had no strength left once i could see beyond the tears of laughter rolling down my cheeks. I could see her lone leg, dangling, from a position in the cellar, while i was faced with the vision of her knee and face sharing the same small space above ground. I could hear the strange sound she had made as she went down, and even today, as i write these words, i am laughing at the memory.

laughter