It's been a very busy and emotional week, with a special birthday celebration in the house, and the start of our eldest daughter's university career with which to cope. Her growing up and taking her place in the adult world coincides with our letting her go, hence it was a fairly tearful pair who watched her stride off into her new environment, feigning a confidence I'm sure she wasn't feeling.
All things told, we headed off to our now beloved St. James tidal pool for a Friday evening dip to wash away the wear and tear of the week. The water wasn't quite as clean and refreshing as it usually is in the early mornings which we have come to enjoy so much, but we had a quick dip and left feeling a little more refreshed. A large crowd was having a picnic supper on the stairs at the bathing huts, which we presumed to be a family gathering or celebration, and we remarked on what a good idea it was to watch the sun set and share good times together there.
Come Saturday morning, which dawned in a state of Cape perfection, we hotfooted it down to the pool to get a good few laps in before the hordes of day trippers arrived. Having slept in just a little later than usual, we had missed our usual crack of dawn swimming friends, and noted a good few people already paddling, rather than swimming in the pool, as we looked down from Main Road. I did mention in my original blog entry (St James - my personal epiphany 21.1.12) when we first discovered the delights of St James, how spotlessly clean the beach and pool were, and marvelled at the fact that municipal cleaners were at work well before our arrival at 6 am each morning. Last weekend, one of the cleaners whom we have come to know, approached us to ask if we knew of any odd jobs he could do, as his weekend cleaning contract was coming to an end. We have his number and are on the lookout for him, a hardworking husband of an unemployed aircraft construction worker and proud father of a two year old son. However, the alarm bells which should have started ringing in my head missed the signal. Who, in his place, would be cleaning the beach?
Nobody, as it transpires. We were assailed with the smell of fly infested excrement in the subway, and looked in horror at the state of the beach. Litter EVERYWHERE, but most noticeably, on the ground all around the plentiful, large green rubbish bins. This had all happened overnight, as we had left the pool at 8 pm the previous evening. It defies any sense of logic, civic pride or social mores or laws, that people could defile such a beautiful place. That they could not take their sweet wrappers, chip packets, cigarette stompies, beer caps, plastic bottles, watermelon skins and other unmentionable debris and place it in the bins provided leaves me shuddering with rage and disbelief. It also pains me that this is what faced Mark and his colleagues at 5 am every morning, yet they did the job willingly and smilingly to earn honest wages, and are now unemployed.
Our swim was short and less than sweet, and St James is badly tainted for us. I'm afraid there won't be a photo in the blog today, as my heart is heavy and it will take me quite some time to get the images of this morning's subway and beach out of my head. I do know that I won't be going back for a while, but that I will be talking to anybody who will answer their telephone at South Peninsula Municipality first thing on Monday morning!
Signed: A Sad Suzy Q
Ps. Further to my recent blog entry on Dog Owners (13.10.12) please read the latest on this sorry saga. Let's hope that tomorrow will herald a better day...
Rottweiler that attacked girl put down - Cape Argus | IOL.co.za
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