"You maaaaa sint Push!"

So we finally did it!  We rode the train from Kalk Bay to Simon's Town... and yes, it might only be a 16 minute ride each way and not a big deal to the thousands of daily train commuters, but we've been meaning to do it since we moved here (2001) - so this is clearly one of those "Better late than Never" situations.

We were, however, not complete train virgins having taken the train to the recent U2 concert - but that didn't really count.  The train was filled with concert goers (not real commuters) and we didn't even need to buy a ticket - a simple flash of our U2 tickets was enough to hitch a ride right into the city centre. 

So, let me just start by saying, I love Kalk Bay.  If I could I'd spend every weekend browsing in all the old shops marvelling at the junk that's for sale, I would.  The little bric-a-brac-full-of-crap shops fascinate me.  Who in their right mind sells this stuff?  Better yet, who the hell buys this stuff? 

30 yr old car seat anyone?  Just hook on and go!

Browsing in the Kalk Bay shops is not easy to do with ankle biters - so we limited ourselves to two Kalk Bay essentials before our train trip: 1.  Lunch at the Brass Bell (obviously!  No Kalk Bay trip is complete without a meal at "The Bell") and 2. Ice-Cream and the Ice-Cafe. After that it was "All Aboard" for the Beckleys.

Training Wheels

I'm embarrassed to admit that one of the reasons it has taken us 10yrs to do this trip is because we've been too shit scared to ride the train - there I said it!  I've read so many horror stories about muggings and legs getting sliced off that as much as we wanted to do it, we just always had better (safer?) things to do.  But after hearing so many positive train stories from friends who used the train during the world cup and then of course our U2 trip... we figured, we'd give it a try!

Needless to say, I went prepared.  I didn't wear my watch or any other jewellery (I'm not kidding, I even left my wedding ring at home) and just before I got on the train I shoved my cellphone in my bra (Oh yes I did....!).  I also packed a packet of disinfectant wipes and a bottle of waterless hand cleaner (pathetic I know - I'm embarrassed just writing this!)

Naturally it was obvious we knew nothing about the train, it's schedule, which platform to go to or when to get on!  But we finally boarded the train and soon the wheels started turning.

4 Tickets please!

I don't know if there is another railway line in the world that runs so close to the sea... naturally, I speak under correction because let's face it with my "1 stamp passport", I'm no Dora the Explorer. But wow, what a view... there surely can't be many trains that travel so close to lapping waves...

At one stage a group of guys joined our carriage and I was immediately on my guard especially when it sounded like one of the guys was talking smack about another guy's mother.  It turns out the youth was simply telling his buddy he "maaaaasint push".  So no close encounter with gang violence for us today!

So  spectacular views aside our 32 minute journey was pretty uneventful - other than not knowing the time and the occasional Nokia ring tone emanating from my chest area.  I mean it's one thing having a train full of people know you have hidden your cellphone in your bra, it's a whole other story trying to fish the damn thing out your knockers without flashing a boob! 

What I did learn though is that if I want to have a good time I can call Sonny Boy on an 083 number and I now know that Becky J is a slut.   I also know that in a crowded train whether you're getting on or off the number 1 rule to remember is that "You maaaaaaaaaa - sint Push !!"

Kitsch, Kitscher, VIRGINIAN

I grew up in a small mining town in the Free State.  Life was good.  You knew everyone (well at least in my case the English speaking people) because we generally all went to the same school during the week , went to the same Church on Sunday and our parents belonged to either the Rotary Club, local running club or met up at the Country Club (sometimes all three).   

Now I must admit the town I knew 30 years ago is VASTLY different to the town I visited 3 years ago, nevertheless, I am pretty proud to call myself “Virginian” . 

Now the Husband on the other hand, (he from the fashion-forward, happening, bustling metropolis that is East London), calls everything with a Kitschometer reading of 2 or more (out of 100), “Virginian”.  Painted garden gnomes – Virginian.  Crotched Side table doilies – Virginian.  Rooms painted in any colour other than white – Virginian.  Socks and Sandals – most definitely Virginian.  Couples who dress the same – Virginian…….. and this is where it gets tricky. 

For all my loyalty and Virginian pride, nothing can ever justify dressing like your spouse.  In this case, I would most definitely agree with The Husband - There can be nothing more “Virginian” than couples wearing matching clothes.  

For those who know me, I am no Faith Popcorn.  I’ll pick up on a trend 2 years after it has come and gone.  I’m happy to wear my red dress, favourite black slip on (practical) shoes and carry my brown every day handbag.  Fashion and I are not the best of friends.  However, even I know that there will never be a time, occasion, event or situation when it is necessary to match your outfit to your spouses.  EVER!

I think my aversion to the whole “matching outfit” thing stems from my childhood – doesn’t everything!!  While looking through old photos, I realised that my sister and I wore matching clothes from about the age of 2 weeks until about 12! Every now and then my mother would be daring and buy one of us a different colour – but the outfit would still be the same!  She assures me this was what “everyone” did.  But funnily enough in party photos it’s only my sister and I that are dressed the same! 

My sister and I in 1978

Even though my mom says that “everyone” dressed their kids like this, I have a sneaky suspicion that she dressed us the same because she dressed the same as her friends!! She assures me the picture below is not what it seems – her and her friend happened to buy these on a sale and for fun took a pic together…. Ja ja - whatever!!

My mom (in blue) and her friend in 1979 - same outfit, different colour!

Anyway, where I am going with all this is that I have very vivid memories of couples dressing the same when I was growing up – I didn’t like it 30 years ago and I funnily enough like it even less now!  A favourite in Virginia was matching tracksuits!  I mean a tracksuit is not the most flattering item of clothing at the best of times and then wearing one that would be considered “unisex”, just makes it that much more unappealing. 

Which brings me to yet another gripe I have about dressing like your spouse.  In order to look the same, you need to wear a style and colour that suits both parties.  Since no self-respecting guy would wear pale pinks, yellows and lime greens, it generally means that the matching outfit comes in unflattering red, navy blue, dark green and khaki. Finding a style that suits both male and female, once again, means that the fairer sex in the matching pair will get the short end of the stick.  Bulky “parachute material” tracksuits and loose fitting golf-shirts seem to the order of the day with co-ordinating couples. 

Why I raise this topic is that recently when we were on our Cruise, there was a couple that dressed the same EVERYDAY – EVERYDAY!!!!!!  We were on the boat for 5 days – that’s 5 matching outfits!  Unfortunately I didn’t see them at the Captain’s dinner, I wish I had because I don’t know how they pulled off matching formal wear – but I digress……

I would bump into the couple in question every morning at the lift – I guess we were all early risers.  I never got tired of staring at their outfits – I was fascinated!  It never occurred to me though to take a photo!  It was only on the last day when I once again saw them out on the deck that I thought “This would make an excellent blog post!!” – so I frantically tried to take a sneaky pic.  Unfortunately on this particular day the wife was being rebellious and was wearing a little (unflattering) unisex (NAVY) vest thing over her shirt – BUT you can still see what I mean.  

 Exactly the same, just a little bit different!

… and wouldn’t you know it,  the matching GOLF SHIRTS were navy, red and white (and were worn with ta da...... Khaki shorts!!) VIRGINIAN!!