Cape Crusader

THE CAPE CRUSADER Issue 4: “Our House, is a very, very, very, nice house with…”

I’m sure you’re all thinking by now how irritating it is to hear about my adventures in the sun but I’m afraid you’re going to have to endure another set of crazy tales of misadventure and cultural oddities. Firstly I want to wish you all a merry Christmas and a happy new year from the sunny side of the world. You probably won’t be surprised to hear I’m not missing the cold weather and long nights? However, I am missing the mulled wine and mince pies. Mostly it’s been a quiet month but there have been some notable exceptions.

I moved into my new house at the start of this month, a lovely Victorian villa near the centre of CT. Work’s about a 5min downhill ride and I barely have to push a peddle, quite a change from the vomit inducing ride I was having to do before. The way home is slightly more arduous. Imagine Hampstead Hill but 10x worse. Basically I haven’t managed to cycle all the way home yet. There’s a good reason why bicycle development led to gears, my 19th century bike seems to go like a rocket on the downhill and feels like a skip on the up. Fortunately all my flatmates drive so I’ve managed to get quite a few lifts about the place. Clifton beach is about a 5min drive away and on a Monday night my flatmate Kat goes down there to perform fire Poi. She’s a bit of a hippy at heart but somehow ended up working for the man and hates it with a passion. Her boyfriend Dane spends a lot of time round at the house, he’s a creative director and a really safe guy. I’ll be spending Christmas Eve and Day with his family. I’m also living with a guy called Tamo. He comes from a small town in the Winelands called Franschoek and pretty much personifies the term ‘only gay in the village’. He’s a real drama queen and can be quite tiresome at times. The rest of the time he’s a riot. Basically his father is Achim Von Arnin, who if any of you are into your wine? Donald? Produces one of the best wines in South Africa. My favourite is a fantastic blend of Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, very summery. Unfortunately Tamo’s father is a bit of an old boy and doesn’t really accept that his son is a raving homosexual. When I visited their farm I was approached with caution and almost immediately asked to test my skills on the tennis court. Achim proceeded to smack balls at me as hard as an old codger like him could muster. With a return rate of close to zero he wasn’t too impressed so I starting ranting on about fictional girlfriends and conquests which seem to make him relax a little. We then had a wine tasting session that involved a fair few bottles of wine, a sabre and a strange looking hat from France? No idea about the relevance of the hat, Donald, maybe you could assist with that one. I also live with a polish girl called Paulina. I didn’t really know her before I moved in but I have to say now that she’s got to be one of the most laid back girls I’ve ever met. She’s so laid back she’s virtually horizontal. Basically when she hasn’t got a huge reefer hanging from her mouth she’s loafing around the house in the skimpiest underwear you could imagine. When it’s both at once I can barely control myself. If that wasn’t good enough, all her friends are Eastern European models and frequently visit the house in various states of undress. When I get back to the UK I think we definitely need to arrange a ‘golfing holiday’ to Lithuania. My other housemate is Lane AKA the artist in residence. She’s currently studying fine arts at Cape Town University and in my opinion is very talented. When we moved into the house I spent half a day putting up her canvases. We transformed the house into a gallery and all the walls are covered with her amazing artworks. She also works as a club promoter which get me into most of the hip and happening events for free, man I landed on my feet with these housemates. Also it’s great to live with someone who’s so enthusiastic about art and we find it very easy to while away a few hours talking about artists that we love. She’s even encouraged me to start working on 3d projects again, mainly sculpture and ceramic design, which I hope to get produced through an artist co-operative that exists in Cape Town. All in all I’ve really enjoyed living with these guys so far, they’re a good bunch of people. We’ve had so many laughs together that I’ve virtually erased from my memory the time I spent living with a Christian accountant and a girl with constant pmt.

I’ve been quite skint this month so the nights out have been few and far between. Thankfully Tamo provides the house with enough free wine to sink a fleet. We’ve already sunk a few cruisers and destroyers and in the new years we’re on the hunt for an aircraft carrier. Dane works at a local bar called Saints where I can pull into pretty much any time of the day and be force-fed dangerous concoctions in the name of science. Last weekend I went to the Mother City Queer Project in a rather fetching pair of pink rubber hot pants. I should of packed my own because this pair was a little itchy? Anyway, I got absolutely wasted on rum and tequila and was chased round the club by a bisexual who was certain he’d met me in London 5 years ago. Those days are a little hazy, Mark, Reggie, perhaps you could refresh my memory? When I first arrived I met an Afrikaans girl called Vida from the northern suburbs. She’s a hoot and loves ripping the shit out of me for being English. She invited me to a house party held for a friend’s birthday. Basically it was mayhem, I swiftly dispensed of a bottle of rum and ended up dancing on tables with two of the biggest women I’ve ever seen. Thank god the table was made of hardwood, nothing else would have survived the mauling. At points I was a little lost in conversation; they mostly speak Afrikaans in the northern suburbs which sounds like a very coarse version of Dutch. When they did speak in English it was to insult me. The Afrikaans have an amazing sense of humour and love ripping into each other which Reminded me of Stortford a little bit. I had a very messy but fun evening and eventually took an extremely dangerous taxi ride home at breakneck speeds. I was feeling the force of about 3g’s at one point and almost repeated the infamous Athens incident. Not sure if that would have gone down too well considering this taxi driver was a man mountain and probably could have cracked my head open between his little finger and his thumb. We’ve entertained at home at least once a week with Braii’s (bbqs), stir fries and my legendry Thai curry. Some of the dinner parties have gotten a little rowdy, particularly when the Eastern Europeans start re-enacting the bikini shoots they’ve just completed. Every man in the building seems to loose all sense of decency, it just cannot be helped. I think the Streets came up with the perfect phrase for this kind of blatantly brazen behaviour: “your fit but my god don’t you know it”.

On a more serious note, Chris told me about Himesh’s sad news. To all of you who know him, look after the boy and make sure he’s OK; he’s one in a million.

Until the next issue, peace and love everyone

Alex

posted by Cape Cornetto @ 3:30 PM