Ghungroo - The Siren Call of Lovers (#1 - Completed)

Chapter 43 - Love Is More Than A Four Letter Word

Chapter 43

"Where are we?"

I look at the dashboard and see that it is 5.30 in the afternoon. Riaan has nudged me awake. It takes me a few seconds to re-orient myself into wakefulness.

We must be in Mossel Bay. I sit up and see that we are outside a hotel.

"Is this where your meeting is?" I ask. The reason for our trip comes back to me.

"No, my meeting is in the morning. This is where we will spend the night."

Oh.

I thought we were coming for the meeting and driving straight back to Cape Town. I didn't see Riaan pack any luggage except for grabbing a laptop bag on his way out.

I guess it made sense to rest. A five hour trip on the road is tiring.

A valet opens my door and I get out. The hotel is set against the large expanse of the Indian Ocean and the Outeniqua Mountains.

There's a raw beauty to Mossel Bay. It is a small habour town and most everything revolves around the sea that boarders it. There is a sense of old-fashioned living here with its Maritime museum, the old Cape St Blaize Lighthouse constructed in the 18th century and the famous Post Office Tree.

The Post Office Tree is over 500 years old. History books have it written down that the famous Milkwood tree served as the first post office in Southern Africa. It is rumoured that in 1500, a sailor left a letter in the tree, tucked away safely in a shoe. It still stands today as a landmark to this legacy.

I love stories steeped in history. I'm still amazed that I remember it.

The white-washed walls of old sea-beaten houses are a typical sight here, where farming and living off the land is a way of life.

It was only in the early 80's and 90's that gas to oil offshore rigs were established here, boosting the economy of this small forgotten town.

Rahul came here often for work and worked mainly on the off-shore rigs which were several kilometers into the sea.

I love his stories of the fitness tests he has to under-go twice a year and I find the bits about being tested for drugs and alcohol before boarding a rig fascinating. If he had to fail any of these tests he would not be allowed onto the rigs.

In fact, he took them so seriously that he abstained from all alcohol a week before one of his trips. I guess it's a big responsibility extracting volatile gasses from deep within the sea bed. And the only reason I know all of this is because Rahul is in the profession.

I've only been to Mossel Bay once before with a few arty, road-tripping friends as an undergraduate. We had done the cave tour at Pinnacle Point. I remember it being really informative. We even got to view artifacts and tools used in the Middle Stone Age that were found in this very cave.

We go straight to the reception desk. Riaan checks in and a bellboy shows us to our room. Is 'bellboy' an appropriate word to use these days? The use of the term 'boy' on a fully grown man cannot be acceptable. The only reason it pops to mind now is because of my love of old black and white movies where bellhops and bellboys are common in such an old-world setting.

As we take the lift up I search hard for the modern equivalent for bellboy. The bellboy/bellhop/attendant-guy pushes a key into the elevator control pad. Like magic a number 3 appears on the digital controlface.

Ah, the 3rd floor is restricted for those that have the key!

But of course, Riaan has a key. As the lift 'pings' to a stop on the 3rd floor and the doors open, the right word comes to me.