Leisure bays…

CHRIS BENNETT indulges in a little light blessing counting.

LEISURE is the main industry of most of the hardworking people of the lower South Coast of this lovely province. It is also the main preoccupation, along with sport, of those of us who rejoice in, or maybe regret, having seen out our three score years and ten.

Periodically it is my lot to go to Port Shepstone, a confused stepchild if ever there was one, and I have a preferred method of getting there by car.

Taking the old main road, in the middle of a weekday, out-of-season or in, is one of those pleasures in life that never ceases to surprise me.

I have just returned from a couple of weeks in Kalk Bay and Sea Point, two of Cape Town’s charming suburbs, of which there be many.

It is a funny thing; whenever I spend time in that enchanting part of the world, to some the most enchanting in the world, I wonder why I don’t live there. Once I get home I cease to wonder and am mildly glad I don’t.

It all has something to do with that milestone (kilometres don’t have stones; they have pegs) three score years and ten.

To digress for a moment, the word score in this sense has a lovely woolly origin. The word was first used to mark a stick. Centuries ago the all-important shepherds of mediaeval England would count their sheep (England was then the world’s principle supplier of wool) in groups of twenty, marking each group with a notch on the stick. Hence three score is sixty. Most other meanings of the word also go back to marking a stick according to the SOED.

There is something most agreeable about the lack of need to rush anything on the South Coast. Some call it South Coast fever, which I find a rather distasteful and silly expression which is nonetheless graphic. Life here tends to be carried on at a gentle pace.

The meandering road from Ramsgate to Izotsha winds its pretty way through the valleys and hills of rural KwaZulu-Natal in a bucolic feast of streams and cane and bananas. It is remarkably beautiful and worth the effort; but you will need patience.

The speed of the traffic, such as it is, on this road is determined by the road itself. You can’t go fast because there are too many twists, turns and blind corners and rises.

For some that would mean eye-watering frustration; for the others it means a silent, relaxing toll-free drive through the sheer beauty of our rural farmlands. Take your choice.

I usually turn seawards at the school in Izotsha, relishing the moment when the delightful little Lutheran church, albeit a bit incongruous these days, comes into view.

I can’t decide whether or not there is any real financial saving in taking this route, and if there is it is likely to be negligible, but the other rewards are worth the time, should you have time. And remember, time is not used, it is made. Those of us who are retired from the slings and arrows of the desktop computer make quite a lot of our time.

Recently in this column I referred to advice given to me by my father a very long time ago, which, if you will forgive me, I shall repeat. You should, he told me, find yourself so busy with other interests by the time you retire that your job has become a hindrance.

Cape Town will always be my favourite place to visit; and like most places that are worth visiting they are just that: worth visiting.