I was summoned at the weekend by The Oyster Box’s Head Honcho to discuss his proposal for my weekend residency at the newly revamped colonial-style hotel, a veritable institution among old Natal hostelries.
Over the finest cream tea to be had anywhere, our residency agreement was speedily finalised. I mean, am I the biggest fan of the Oyster Box or what? I was hugely relieved to note that the recent refurbishment of this grand old lady of South African hotels has not in the slightest bit diminished her haughty yet laidback seaside grandeur.
When Head Honcho put on the table a kind offer for me to stay as their guest (any weekend I like) in a suite which, I imagine, very few other than Nelson Mandela get to see the inside of, it was a firm gentlemen’s handshake, smiles all-round and a stiff gin and tonic and salted peanuts were waiting four-poster-side before Alfred had even dropped off my Vuittons.
Coolness. I was left to wander around the old girl, a hotel where my parents used to take me as a snotty-nosed sapling for a Coke Float and Chocnut Sundae way back in the day. So I swooned over the way Red Carnation Hotels have expertly blended in the new with the old, maintaining the dignity and character of Old Lady Oyster Box, and wielded the Canon 50D with no little relish.
OK. So I got a tad fixated on the old lighthouse, an Umhlanga icon situated directly in front of the hotel and a humungous source of wonderment to me as a child. This is how it all turned out…
I'm fine with that. The view from where I scoffed my cream scones on the Indian Ocean-adoring verandah. The view from the newly-named Hatman Suite which larges it up on the top floor is not too shabby either...
Post-cream tea deliciousness, I was tempted to plunge into my new rimpool but decided not to disturb the reflection of my lighthouse and spoil it for the other patrons. That's how I roll. Decorously.
So I got creative instead and paid homage (that's ho-marge, as in French) to My Lighthouse with some crafty compositionness. Hope you like this...
And, not being one to leave it there, I thought I'd capture another angle, knowing all the while that these vignettes (vin-yets in the French) from my new weekend residence might serve to cheer all of you up this Monday... anything for my Hatpeople.
Cool. I’ll leave it there. Perhaps, if you all behave really well, I’ll release i-marges of the Oyster Box’s magnificent new decor d’ interieur, pardon my Franglais, in a later post. Let’s just say that I’m not at all displeased with the totally sick suite Head Honcho has thrown my way. Catch you in the Lighthouse Bar on Friday evening, Honch. I trust you’ll have those G&Ts lined up on that bar of great splendidness. There’s a good chap!
* Please feel free to help yourself to more info on the sumptuousness of the new Oyster Box by checking in here and/or here. Tell them Fred sent you.
And now, for no reason at all other than to pay homage to the sumptuous weather which we on KwaZulu-Natal’s sub-tropical coastline enjoy all-year-round and thus seriously piss off our friends in Cape Town who continue to be deservedly punished by winter’s woes, I bring you some jolly japery from the weekend.
The Heartman, my boy who will be trundling down to Cape Town on AmaOneTyre soon enough to raise awareness of landmines and timed to arrive in Slaapstad in time for their statutory three weeks of sunshine, and I did our training rides in scorching 34deg heat before falling into the local lagoon to retrieve our legendary coolness.
La Mercy Lagoon, a short beachwalk from our residential arrangements at the Bush Palace, presented a scene of quite stunning kiffness and, after parking the 36-incher unicycle on the golden sands, we plunged into the cool waters of our lekker laguna. A Fish Eagle swooped and crooned overhead and soon we had the Canon 50D out… to capture some aquatic moves we’ve been working on.
You are now invited to assess our progress…
All is sereneness as Goose the Bull Mastiff detects a hat and hand emerging from the azure waters of La Mercy Lagoon...
No, it's not some aquatic Guy Fawkes display but The Heartman in the second phase of something I think he calls "The Bionic Goat", for reasons which initially eluded me...
Aah, now it's all making perfect sense! Heartman introduces "The Bionic Goat" manoeuvre into your lives... Pics: Hatman
There. Aren’t you relieved that you didn’t miss this? I understand. So, be sure to tell all of your friends about this. They will thank you for it. And, of course, you will all sink into a blissful state of epic gratefulness to me for bringing this into your lives. But, wait. There’s more. I was then coerced into coming up with something for Heartman to snap in “continuous shooting mode”.
Stop whatever you’re thinking about being distracted by because the following frames depict such grace, such raw athleticism and power that you will likely be rendered agog by the witnessing of it. Breathe, relax and simply embrace the beautifulnesses of my body in aquatic motion…
My babies, you are now enraptured by the first phase of my "Human Whale in Backward Breech Mode" display. Wait, it gets even better...
Yes, you have now slipped into a state of extreme swoonfulness. Perfectly normal. You will come out of it once this gem of balleticness is over. Hang in there...
Hyperventilation can be assuaged by breathing into a small paper bag. Try it! Good. It's OK. What you are feeling is what many go through when exposed to athletic prowess on an epic scale. Tear your eyes away, breathe smoothly into that bag and your heart rate should normalise... Pics: Heartman
You see? There was no need to panic, was there? No call for Netcare 911, hey? There are some things in life that just need to be embraced. Let yourself go, as David Bowie says. Right. You can now go back to doing whatever it was you were tackling before I enhanced your Monday with this sumptuous piece of aquatic art which, if I may, I shall entitle “Goat Lagoon”. Like that other nifty knees-up I penned and choreographed which I called “Swan Lake”, but only far better, n’cest pas?
