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...

The next morning we cruised around Cape Point to Clifton, and returned to dock around 3pm. At this stage we were on our beam's ends: seasick, still in last night's clothes (I'm pimping a touristy "African Fish Eagle" t-shirt after the Jagermeister debacle) and downright miserable. I aked the driver to take us home, and The Captain again put his foot down, insisting we stay for dinner, and that he'll book us into the Cape Grace to shower and then we can go shopping.
Sidebar: I'm glad we had the opportunity to spend 30 minutes in the Cape Grace. Kinda disappointed.

After the most-expensive-shower-we'll-ever-have, we were in ship-shape and Bristol fashion. We enjoyed sushi at Sevruga where The Captain announced to everyone that tonight will be a very special night. Through some underground trading with the waiter, he managed to conjure up a tiny ring with which he "proposed" to me, on his knees, drawing attention from the whole restaurant. Not being taken aback I of course said yes, and immediately began discussing "custody" of the yacht.

Both The Fashionista and I was spoiled with attention, and returned home feeling like we've been on holiday.

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