A full and deep night of delicious sleep was followed by the most intensely gorgeous Saturday summer morning.
It's summer holiday time in the southern hemisphere; our world grinds closer to a sun-soaked and complete halt with every passing day.
Now, hours later, it's high noon in Long Street: I'm at a bustling, crockery clunking Yours Truly coffee shop savouring a tinny rendition of Rodriguez's Sugar Man: wifi, Rayban aviators, robust ficus in a humongous charcoal-painted pot, beautifully hanging youth, all the languages of Babel (and more).
Also a beautiful ginger - wearing jeans, a faded black tshirt and an exuberant moustache, beard and pony tail: thick.and healthy hair that I want to reach out and touch - orders an americano.
I'm getting ahead of myself though: Breakfast and coffee in Observatory was my first stop,; eggs, bacon, toast and photos.
It turns me on that by merely looking up I can see some, only some (considering that the Khoi San people were here, first, for centuries and obviously never left more than paintings, footprints, relics), of the history of a street and suburb...especially when it can look so horrifyingly 'modern' at street level.
A skater in short shorts and a navy blue vest zooms by in no less than a flash.
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