Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Tell it to the Marines

Two weeks ago I was lucky enough to win tickets to the farewell of the yachts taking part in the Volvo Ocean Race. The Fashionista & I donned our finest, and headed to the V&A Waterfront, where we vowed, as soon as we saw all the trim and tanned young sailors, to take a serious interest in this sport.

As luck would have it I received a phone call on Monday from Pretoria friend inviting us to dinner...on his friend's yacht. They were down in Cape Town for business, and wanted us to join them to go sailing the following day, and also go on a helicopter trip. All of this sounded too good to be true, until he asked for our address so he could send his driver to pick us up...then we started doing the happy-dance. When our driver arrived and poured us Mo√ęt for the road, we were giggling like 16 year-olds.
After falling about like three sheets to the wind later that night, The Captain insisted that we stay over, promising us new clothes the next day. This part was crucial, as I managed to spill ALL the Jagermeister on my white linen jacket, and The Fashionista "lost" her ballet pumps...