The ORIGIN of my love affair

origin1I long to feel… to taste… to see. Not a man, simply Herbal ib. An infusion of raspberry, hibiscus, and mint. (And other stuff I can’t remember now)

Very upset, that is how you can describe my demeanor for the past three weeks. Endless sleepless nights, teary mornings and dismal late afternoons consistent of running the holy bejesus out of my poor body, as a method of extracting thoughts that would help me make sense of my life.

My solace… tea. No not just tea tea, herbal ib infusion. In my mother’s home, as in many of my friend’s homes, tea is undoubtedly always the answer (Until lunch time at least, because that is when I turn to Whiskey). Since I can remember, the phrase that was the starting point to each and every “life crisis solution” was: “Kom ons maak vir jou n bietjie tee.” (translated as, “Lets make you a cup of tea” for our non afrikaans speaking folk)

But I have not always enjoyed the loving aegis, characterised by Herbal ib. I found this special, hot (in colour) dark pink tea a mere month and a half ago at a place called The Origin, a local coffee house and barista training centre in the heart of the Waterkant, the artistic quarter of Cape town, otherwise known as home, to many of my coffee aficionado friends.

At first I marveled at the fact that the same group of people come to the same cafe everyday, and sit there for the better part of the day, working, arguing, taking bets and scrutinizing unsuspecting newcomers. To an extent it is a bit of a meat market really, and as with all meat markets, there are some interesting cuts… lets leave it at that.

I have lived in the mother city for seven years, and thought that I had seen and found it all, so my introduction to the Origin was a supervenient gem in the crown of a cape so familiar to me.

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For the love of bread

olympia-breadI have recently become a regular attendee of what we like to call “Olympia Sundays”. Usually, well more often than not, we make it in time to eat breakfast. Yesterday we made it in time for lunch.

For those poor souls who have no idea what I’m talking about, Olympia Cafe is a Bakery/Cafe/Place to sit and watch people in Kalk Bay in Cape town. It gives you the feeling that you have walked into an old time haze, it  is addictive. The smell of the coffee and the warm fresh bread baking in the conundrum of a kitchen stashed somewhere in the back.

It’s that smell that makes you miss someone you don’t even know. Add to that two glasses of their house wine and you are set for deposit in the memory bank.

If one plans to attend an “Olympia Sunday”, one should plan on making a day of it. The small space gets snug at best and for a  half hour at least it becomes simply incommodious, that makes the service a tad slow, but what’s the rush right? It is Sunday after all.

The food, charming, enchanting, ambrosial even. And then I haven’t even gotten to the bread. Just the bread alone is cause to celebrate. Who ever thought that bread could make anyone so happy, the faint smell of almonds and vanilla seems to stick to your hands, and even with the deepest breath you can’t breathe in deeply enough to satisfy your greed.

Plates of olive oil and balsamic vinegar are shared by friends, ponds of pure yum. My one friend actually commented that this bread could very possibly be better than sex, I think she might very possibly be right.

As if the day could not get any better, it ended on the beach, with the last light of the day whispering away over the horizon. Tanned warm bodies lying in the sand, laughing and pouring over the day and the food and the excellent beach bat tournament played. I love Cape Town!

The J&B MET 2009

The Best Met

The Best Met

Wearing a hot pink Marion and Lindy dress teamed with patent leather black heels, I felt just not shiny enough for this years J&B met.

If I had to spin round and around on the day, it would have felt like I was in a glittered snow Globe. Glitz and Jewels were the order of the day at this years met. Not having a date this year, I was mostly walking about, betting and drinking (God it sounds more like a western than anything else).

Until I discovered the J&B hospitality tent that is. And that, is where the party started! Like a cool oasis it was glittering in the distance, a 7ft disco ball at the entrance, any place that has a 7 ft disco ball at the entrance is bound to be promising.

The only slight, teensy tiny problem was the huge ginormous bouncer (reminiscent of Chocolate from Moulin Rouge) standing next to 7ft disco ball, almost making the disco ball look of normal size. Being the daring dame that I am, I was not deterred, no I didn’t have the golden ticket, but I would have been damned to miss out on the real party. So I decided to try my luck. I marched up to the entrance and tried to walk in as if I had already been there and I “lost” my glittery hospital bangle.

Chocolate was wise to my deception though, and I was denied access. Boo!

But still my dutch courage and shameful desire to eat free sushi was not dampened, and the old people who leave the party early became my next victims. But that didn’t really go down too well, the opening phrase “You guys are going home now right?” was not the best pitch.

Eventually by some shining miracle my crafty friends managed to smuggle out two bracelets in the underwear of a very hot, paid stranger’s underwear, yes I would like to thank my friends, not only for the entrance but for the method of delivery.

We were finally in and ready to party, the tent didn’t stop spurting out best surprise after best surprise! From my foot massage on entry (my feet love you J&B) while being fed strawberry pavlova, to the “whatever you want to drink” on tap, to a Sisley Facial and rubbing shoulders with some seriously sexy people! It was the best met of my life!

I lost almost all my cash on the horses, but seeing as I found the free sushi,pizza, drinks, massages and um… entertainment, it was just all good! Just a tiny mention to the Good hope FM hospitality area, who took in tired strangers with open arms, and gave them water, biltong, cup cakes and grapetiser, you guys rock!

The night drew to a close at the races, with myself and a friend manning the concierge booth with headsets on, if you are one of the unfortunate strangers who fell for the “You can pay us for your parking here” bit, we really are sorry. Just know your money went to a good cause, helping hard working barmen at Chevele, where we went to continue our debaucherous party.

Party crashers

Party crashers

Ah… I love the met, I’m already planning my outfit for next year.