This is an Afrikaans blog. It would be written in Afrikaans if I could type in that language but rest assured I am thinking in it. If you were watching me you'd see me typing slower. The click/clack of my brain as it turns to translate a thought into English, into Afrikaans and back in to English again is exhausting.
If I were still at the dinner table at Stellenbosch's Greek Kitchen the florid rather than fetid would tipple from my tongue. If I were with my fabulous friends Wilhelm Retief and Johan Grobler and their fabulous friends my tongue would be as agile as a cunning linguist. Now, with the harsh afternoon light not tempered by excellent red wines (The KWV Merlot ably described in both languages as "glad" - left my tongue smooth and my heart happy). Delicious food included Moussaka (v.good), Cape Salmon (outstanding), Greek Lamb (tasty but dry). Although I was the only native English speaker, the company was exceptional.
I was already impressed with myself. I arrived late for dinner as I had to take a brief from a Californian client which due to the time change couldn't happen during my office hours. I felt very grand sitting in Dorp Street Stellenbosch saying phrases like: aerial shots, media fly in, international awards, rather more loudly than I had to. As a boy a friend and I would have these highfalutin conversations on the train home from school which we made up just to impress, so we thought, fellow passengers. My conversation was, at the very least, genuine.
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