Saturday, March 28, 2009

Dullstroom Inn

I'm having breakfast and ice cold Pilsner Urquell draught for lunch at the Dullstroom Inn established way back in 1912. It's just across from the tranquil tree-filled church square that's well off the tourist beaten track of the main throughroad between Belfast and Mashishing.

The magnificent maples on the square are old and moody, almost melancholic. They're drawing me in and affecting my mood: the town's spirit is also drawing upon mine; it's mingling with my being like it always does when I visit here. I'm at home here. Personally, it's a pity for me that the place is so popular...

The leaves, which are turning, are rustling in the autumn wind and whispering of the mist and cold still to come. But for today it's a scorching hot day reminiscent of the height of summer and I'm basking, baking in the sun.

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