Notes from Africa. Part 13. Mtwalume day 1.

I woke this morning to find the sun shining, the sky is blue and there are wispy clouds stretched out across Indian Ocean.



Steve is taking Tamlyn to visit her Grandparents and Reg and I are off to the pub for a few cold beers.

Reg drives us to the Mtwalume social club and as we park up outside I get to see Mtwalume in all its glory. It really is amazing. The clear blue waters of the sea and the golden light shining off the sand makes rainbows appear in the spray from the surf. I watch as the breakers roll towards the beach from far out at sea. They begin as a small swell on the surface, rise gently, turn into barrels and roll onto the beach. There is a small railroad that runs along the side of the beach and for a second my mind flashes to a place in Scotland that I know. If it wasn't for the fact that I am aware I'm in Africa I could mistake this place for there. Or at least that is what my memory causes me to think. Perhaps I am seeing things through rose colored glasses.



Reg rings the bell to get access to the club and we walk up the stairs and into the bar. Reg is well known here and judging by the welcome he receives from the people in the bar he is also well loved. Reg introduces me to the people who are sitting at the bar. They are all very friendly and ask me various questions, how I'm enjoying Africa, if I like the weather, where in Scotland I'm from, how long I'm here for and other questions along the lines of general chit chat. My ear is captured by another question as Reg asks me what I want to drink. I tell Reg that the round is on me and I reach into my pocket for my wallet. Reg tells me that the drinks are on him and tells me to put my wallet away. I ask him for a rum and coke and thank him as it is placed in front of me.

I salute Reg with my glass as someone at the bar asks me if I have tried biltong. I turn to see that the person who asked the question is an attractive blonde who is roughly the same age as I am. I smile, pick up my glass and walk over to get a better conversation with her.

We chat for a while about Scotland and Africa and I make a comment that until just now I hadn't really seen the true beauty of Africa. She laughs and flicks her hair. I look into her eyes, smile and arch one of my eyebrows. She senses the meaning behind my statement and the accompanying look and her pupils widen for a split second. The Douglas charm has struck again.

She asks me if I have tried South African cider and I look to see that she has a bottle of it in front of her. I tell her I have been sticking to drinking rum and Coke but I'll try the cider if she recommends it. Just as I offer to buy her a bottle of cider Reg shouts me from the other end of the bar and she says that she'd love to have one but thinks Reg wants to play a game of pool. I ask her if she's sure she wouldn't like a drink but she refuses, thanks me and tells me that she has some things she needs to do but she'll maybe see me later. I grab my rum, smile at her and walk over to find Reg with a pool cue in his hand and a smile on his face.

I spot that Reg's beer is halfway down the glass and I ask the barmaid for another rum and Coke and another draft for Reg. "OK Ross." Says the barmaid. I like this place. It feels to me that I have found the "Cheers" bar of my dreams. The theme tune to "Cheers" begins to play on the jukebox in my head but I shake it off, hit A12 and it is replaced with a different tune. "That's better, now I don't have that playing in my head I can concentrate." I think to myself and pay for the drinks that are on the bar waiting for me.

I turn around and see Reg waiting with his cue in his hand. "Mugs away." He says. Just like my dad does. It's spooky. I'm struck by how much Reg is like my dad, not only in looks but in mannerisms, and I immediately know that this game is going to be fun. I figure my gameplan as I would if I was playing my dad and decide that I should lose the first two racks and then beat him senseless in the following games.

After the first two racks Reg is strutting about the club with his arms in the air. He's singing "Easy! Easy!" and making remarks along the lines of "Where's the challenge?" "Let me know if you want a handicap" and "I'll go easy on you this frame." There are others that would not be amiss coming from my dad if it was him I was playing in the lounge at my work and not Reg in a club in South Africa.

I rack the balls and chalk my cue. Reg reminds me that I am two racks down. I place the white ball and take aim at the group of balls at the other end of the table. My arm draws back and I give the cue ball the hardest whack I can muster. The pack scatters and bounces off of the rails, balls kiss and clash and three balls fall into pockets.

I look towards Reg and smile as I say "That's me on solids then Reg. Looks like this could be the comeback." Reg, just like my dad would, makes a joke and tells me that the game isn't over until the 8 ball goes down. I grin as I look up at him from the table, my cue lining up my next shot. I set up my shot, hit the cue ball and it careers onto the object ball and begins to spin backwards towards where I wanted it to be. The object ball drops into the pocket and I'm in a perfect position to clear the rest of the balls.

I pot the next three balls in succession and Reg asks sarcastically if he get to have a shot. I roll my object ball over the pocket, stand up and say "OK." Reg misses and I clear my last remaining ball and the 8 ball. 2-1. I win the next frame. 2-2. I blister through the final game and win it. 2-3. I savor the 8 as it drops into the pocket, leaving Reg with three balls still on the table, and shake hands with Reg.

He shakes my hand and says "beginners luck." Just like my dad would.

Chuck, Husband to Henley the barmaid, appears like a well built Hawkeye from M*A*S*H with a putter and a golf ball and announces that he is "Playing through." I laugh as he putts towards the pooltable. He tells me he wants to see the golfing skills of a Scotsman as he knows that we invented the game.

A game of doubles is suggested by Reg and we pair off. Reg and I versus Chuck and Henley. We play from one end of the bar to the other. The holes are a table leg and the leg of the pool table. Chuck is as a nice guy, always making jokes and laughing uproariously. At times he'd be laughing so hard at the joke he was attempting to tell he wouldn't finish it, leaving me to laugh at him laughing. We swapped jokes with each other and played on.

Eighteen "holes" later we are tied at nine each and a playoff hole is decided on to break the deadlock. I line up my ball and swing the club. Just as contact is made the bell for the door of the club goes off and I lose concentration and slice the ball underneath a table. Henley opens the door. Reg berates me for getting stuck behind a tree, as we have decided that tables and other hazards are immovable and should therefore be referred to as trees, just as Steve walks into the bar.

The game is abandoned as Chuck and Henley haven't seen Steve in a long time and we all retire to the 19th for another drink. Steve, Reg, Chuck, Henley and I are the only people left in the bar and we sit at the bar and chat for a couple of hours then we head back to the house for dinner.

We have a lovely dinner while sitting on the porch. Rums are had and stories are told. Later, after Reg and Eleanor have gone to bed, Steve and I sit on the porch drinking rum and talking. The milky way is laid out before my eyes and I stare in amazement as my entire field of vision is swamped by the twinkling lights above me. For a second I see Gods view of the Galaxy and I am lifted by a desire to leap into the stars and be a part of them.

Steve and I sit and we both tell small parts of each of our lives and our philosophy is shared. At about 3 or 4am it is decided that we should get some sleep. I take on more look at the stars and head for my bed.