Two life-changing things happened to me in Dec 2015/ Jan 2016. In December, I got the news that I had passed my Masters, cum laude. On 1 January, my cousin Lauren was killed in a car accident.
Now let me tell you that 'cum laude' does not come cheap. I can tell you that twice over, because I 'cum laude-ed' my undegrad degree too. Yess, yess, that makes me sound terribly clever and it does look good on the CV but the cost... the cost... My undergrad cum kind of just happened. I didn't aim for it. Didn't know the concept even existed. Even if I'd known, I wouldn't have dreamed I could attain it. Having been styled the straight-A student by teachers and family alike, however, I definitely wanted to do well. In fact, my very identity was tied to academic performance. So I didn't get involved in any extra-curricular activities, I didn't party hard, I didn't really 'student' much. I mean I had fun and a great circle of friends, and we did cool things, and I still see those as the best years of my life, but I've always felt a sense of regret that I wasn't a little - or a lot - more irresponsible. That I didn't have more experiences. But those external and internal expectations insisted that I direct most energy to getting good marks.
Now with my Masters, I made the active decision that I wanted to cum the degree. So life stopped. For 4 years. I could have done it in two, but relentless perfectionism, a deep emotional attachment to my research project and a couple of unforeseen circumstances delayed me. So for 4 years, I was plugged in to that Masters, and nothing else. I was teased by my husband and best friend to the extent that there were almost 2 more dead bodies in the Liesbeek. I had to step into a very big job much sooner than was desirable during that same period, so that and the M consumed my every waking minute. So when I graduated, I now had all this free time on my hands, and I was a bit stunned that there was a mountain in front of me, and an ocean just down the road.
About two weeks later, Lauren died. But my god, she had also lived. She had an immensely rich, full life, whilst also being a medical student. I was shamed to think of how comparatively little I had lived when I was a student, and that I had repeated that very cycle with my M. Lauren shocked me back into the world, forcing me to examine what I was doing with every day. And so, I made the active decision to not immediately go on to a PhD, but to LIVE, see, feel, inhale, wonder, bask, revel; to LOVE my poor, long-suffering husband; to REKINDLE neglected friendships, and just generally be present. 2016, though extremely painful, also brought with it immense gratitude for Cape Town and my loved ones, both of which I have been vividly imbibing all year. Please stay tuned while I flood you with photographic evidence. You'll be rewarded with the actual supper club details and restaurant review at the end...
So this year, after a breakfast with dear friend Reto and the husband, we spontaneously took a walk to Bree street, on Open Street day. There were a few restaurants around, and I suddenly decided that we should pick a street in town and work our way through the restaurants from one end to the other over the course of the year, to force ourselves out of the comfy Southern suburbs.
I randomly decided on Loop Street, knowing nothing about any restaurants that might be there. I had no idea what the first restaurant on the street was. On the Friday before Adalbert's birthday, we took his nieces to Long Street for cocktails and then decided to walk to Loop and find our restaurant. Wellllll. We found darkness, warehouses, and almost certainly used condoms and syringes, and above all, no restaurants, for about 3 blocks. Right, so, then, I needed another street. I should have just gone Long Street, right? Easy, low- hanging fruit. But I thought no, I've 'done' long street (read: been to Long Street Cafe as student, Neighbourhood once, and the Grand Daddy in 1925). So I settled back on Bree- unchartered territory.
Reto has christened our little effort the "Bree'de Bunch" (LOL squared). He then decided I should blog about our little journey, hence the reason you are suffering through this. The journey begins thus:
The supper club hostess:
- Cunningly uses Google Maps to find first restaurant: Little Saints (however, looking at the map now, Little Saints is most certainly not the first- it's about smack in the middle... I'm sure I didn't misread the map. It must have moved overnight. Heavenly powers and such.)
- Call Little Saints x 3- no answer
- Mail Little Saints- still nothing- I just checked again.
- Tried next restaurant down- website down
- Try next next restaurant down- phone number does not exist
- Get fed up and randomly select True Italic, which 'struth is actually the very last restaurant on Bree, and was to become the first.
True Italic
In attendance:
Hostess
Husband
Nick
Review
Somewhere on Google it says this is one of the best Italian restaurants in town. Um.
Firstly, they ran out of soft drinks. Yes, soft drinks.
The decor doesn't have a clear target market.
My food could have been a Woolies spag bol ready meal. The company was equally under-whelmed.
The service was.... eventual.
My best part of the evening was waiting for a cappuccino for 20 minutes only to then be told they had run out of milk. [inserts emoticon with eyes but no mouth]. Yes... milk.
So if you're not on a symbolic gustatory journey down Bree Street, rather go to Primi Piatti. To try and be fair, they do apparently change the menu every night, so all 4 of us may just accidentally have arrived on B-sides day...
What's next?
Next up is La Tête. Until then, let's all continue actually living life.
