I'm savouring an unanticipated cappuccino at the Zinkwazi shopping centre, which consists - perfectly - of a beach shop/cafe, an outside coffee deck, and of a real estate company or two, I'm not sure.
It been sugar cane, mud huts, verdant rolling hill vistas reminiscent of Alan Paton's Cry the Beloved Country, humidity, and Indian South Africans peppered across the Zululand kingdom of KwaZulu-Natal.
While winter is fast approaching 600 km from here, where I live, there's definitely no sign of it here.
This is a subtropical paradise and I'm heading for a plunge into the warm Indian Ocean straight after this post.
An old, well-lined woman is puffing away on a cigarette at the next table, her back to mine as if she's a pariah. The blue plastic tube of her asthma pump, on the bench next to her, catches my eye. She's literally going up in smoke.
I'm dying to see Lee, when he's finished with work. But now to the beach...
(The 3rd photo is of the sky's reflection in the retina screen of my iPad. Loved it.)
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