I was not born in a #manger.
Now that we've established I'm not the next best thing to buttered toast, I would like to visit my murky past to trace the beginnings of my love for travel. It began, not when I as a 4.5 yr-old surreptitiously helped myself to my late father's only means of transport (his bicycle).
It began in the 9th month of 1980 when I set off with a friend to buy my first car - second-hand in Cape Town (#designcapital2014). We left Stellenbosch on the predecessor to #Metrorail one afternoon after work and got to the dealer's premises just before 17:00.
I found out that the advertised Sunbeam was not the open top sports car I had imagined but another, best described as a bun delivery vehicle. But I came to buy a car and I was captivated by a metallic brown #Ford Granada 2.5 V6. No amount dissuasion by the salesman had any impact once my beady eyes were fixed upon this prize of a beast. At this point I must confess publically, (I was #Catholic at the time, so I confessed to the parish priest as well!) I neither possessed a driver's licence nor have I had any driving lessons. None of these impediments stopped the salesman from taking my money and handing me the keys to the beast!
I figured out how to drive by watching other drivers closely and with this second-hand knowledge, I got into my second-hand car and was out of the dealer's yard in the proverbial second (more like quite a few minutes). At the first set of traffic lights, all conspired against innocent me when the lights turned red. Like any self-respecting and seasoned driver, I stopped behind the white line - yeah, brownie points :-)
Unfortunately, the advent of the green light befuddled the synchro between my left and right feet and I stalled. Trying to start the beast proved impossible, so my friend and I pushed the car to the nearest row of houses in Cape Town (closer to #Woodstock). There a friendly Capetonian (yes, they existed even then) suggested that the brushes on the alternator were #kaput. He offered to have the alternator brushes replaced the next day and suggested I leave the keys with him.
I KNOW!! You're thinking I was stupid to even consider doing this!!
Long story short, I did. And the next day, I collected a purring beast with the help of a mechanic work buddy. I got this buddy to drive the beast to #Stellenbosch after a night where my #Superman juices subsided to their lowest levels in a while.
Thanks be to God who keeps us safe when we are desperate!
Now that we've established I'm not the next best thing to buttered toast, I would like to visit my murky past to trace the beginnings of my love for travel. It began, not when I as a 4.5 yr-old surreptitiously helped myself to my late father's only means of transport (his bicycle).
It began in the 9th month of 1980 when I set off with a friend to buy my first car - second-hand in Cape Town (#designcapital2014). We left Stellenbosch on the predecessor to #Metrorail one afternoon after work and got to the dealer's premises just before 17:00.
I found out that the advertised Sunbeam was not the open top sports car I had imagined but another, best described as a bun delivery vehicle. But I came to buy a car and I was captivated by a metallic brown #Ford Granada 2.5 V6. No amount dissuasion by the salesman had any impact once my beady eyes were fixed upon this prize of a beast. At this point I must confess publically, (I was #Catholic at the time, so I confessed to the parish priest as well!) I neither possessed a driver's licence nor have I had any driving lessons. None of these impediments stopped the salesman from taking my money and handing me the keys to the beast!
I figured out how to drive by watching other drivers closely and with this second-hand knowledge, I got into my second-hand car and was out of the dealer's yard in the proverbial second (more like quite a few minutes). At the first set of traffic lights, all conspired against innocent me when the lights turned red. Like any self-respecting and seasoned driver, I stopped behind the white line - yeah, brownie points :-)
Unfortunately, the advent of the green light befuddled the synchro between my left and right feet and I stalled. Trying to start the beast proved impossible, so my friend and I pushed the car to the nearest row of houses in Cape Town (closer to #Woodstock). There a friendly Capetonian (yes, they existed even then) suggested that the brushes on the alternator were #kaput. He offered to have the alternator brushes replaced the next day and suggested I leave the keys with him.
I KNOW!! You're thinking I was stupid to even consider doing this!!
Long story short, I did. And the next day, I collected a purring beast with the help of a mechanic work buddy. I got this buddy to drive the beast to #Stellenbosch after a night where my #Superman juices subsided to their lowest levels in a while.
Thanks be to God who keeps us safe when we are desperate!
Lovely blog! Keep me posted on next instalments.
ReplyDeleteThanks, trying to create #thebuzz
ReplyDeleteYou are a good orator and now you proved to be a good writer as well. I like your blog!
ReplyDeleteFF: Thanks. Personally I think I'm ok at public speaking but I always hated writing at school - my thoughts ran way ahead of my handspeed, with sometimes nonsensical consequences, sometimes disastrous effects.
ReplyDelete