The boys are back. We unfortunately had to leave our beautiful hotel in Cape Town today to drive the hour and a half to Hermanus. We experienced one of the moments of realization that I’m sure that all new parents / dog owners have about 4 weeks in. Initially, we all think, “wow, that’s a cute baby/dog/whatever! It’d be great to have one!” Then, after a couple of weeks, the cuteness fades, and you think, “maybe the kennel will take it back,” or “maybe I can put this baby back wherever-it-came-from-which-I-refuse-to-believe.” In our drive, our cute, cuddly Steve hit this point too.
Being informed that the trip would now take 3 hours due to African road closures, nobody was in a great mood. Luckily, we all started to nod off and take a bit of a rest in the car. Stevo, apparently lonely, would randomly say things like “woah!” waking us up, then “there’s a cow.” Yes, my sweet baby, that is a cow; now let me sleep. If his South African accent weren’t so silky smooth, tinkling the listener’s ear with every note, we would have killed him.
Eventually, we arrived at our hotel, the wonderful Birkenhead House, and were immediately blown away by the beach views and the fact that the porter didn’t even try to get a tip. Good call on his part because the boys would have paid that lucky fella with a warm high-five and a congratulations. Upon entering our suite, we were struck by a few facets of the unit. The heated floors and inviting décor make for a comfortable stay, while the sporadically-placed rose petals and bottles of champagne ensure that a group of three brothers feel uncomfortable. We are most certainly in the honeymoon suite. Luckily, you catch flies with honey, but you catch more honies when you’re fly, and I mooned the house next door, so we completed the idea of a honey-moon.
Side Note: There were even rose petals in the toilet. IN the toilet. Why would you need that? Guys don’t care what a bathroom smells like, and girls don’t use toilets. Their exuberance is obnoxious.
Unfortunately, I must tell our sweet stalkers that we will not be diving with sharks tomorrow. I know that you all tried to kill me by hitting me with a car and by making Josef so ugly, and you all thought that the sharks would finish us off. Luckily for us, there is a huge storm currently blowing massive swells inland and shaking our windows. In a weird way, we’re kinda into it. Our travel agency was happy to redirect our funds from the activity to a more soothing afternoon of massages. I plan ahead, and I kept my loin cloth / hairnet from the past massage to be eco friendly. I hope they don’t mind that I’ve been wearing it under my clothes for the past two sweaty weeks. As they say, flavor is character, and every character has a story to tell. Do they say that? I guess they do now.
Finally, our evening of dominos by the fireplace, drinks, and a great meal surrounded by patrons of the other 10 rooms gave us a true feel for the purpose of this establishment. After soiling rose petals, it was clear that this hotel is made for romantic getaways, but the clientele is a bit older as well. From our estimates, the average age is around 45 or 50 and almost all are couples. This is fine, as we assumed they wouldn’t bother us, but we rapidly saw that this is the geographical location where couples begin to realize they hate each other. No joke, we’ve been here for 10 hours, and we’ve seen 4 couples fighting. Sir, I get it, I don’t like you or your wife, but please excuse yourselves out of our lives. We bypassed the whale watching tour for a reason.
With drooping eyelids and no risk of losing appendages,
Hans, “There’s no chance I’m going on that shark boat,” Josef “I guess I’ll go if the weather isn’t TOO bad,” and Christian “What type of massages should we get instead?” Braunfisch