Bad Saturday

Ah, Easter. One of the few holidays on which we don't publish, so it's a long weekend for me. But there'll be no taking it easy come midnight or so Friday, when merry crews will clash bits of metal and drag stuff across the road as they erect the bandstand and deploy the drinks tables and roadblock barrels for the Two Oceans marathon. This is called an "ultra" because the runners cover 56km between the Atlantic and the Indian, near which the Congregation resides. The route passes along the road below my house as it heads towards the ocean. Once the construction crews and marshals have wound up their metal bashing, around 4 or so, there's a quick sleep break for me (if I'm not pumping adrenalin). Then the real din begins at around 7, as the panting hordes are greeted along the way with very loud rock bands, cheerleaders, bellowing, clapping supporters --- most of whom seem to locate themselves near my house. This goes on until about 9 or 10, until the stragglers pass by, egged on by pissed diehards. It's a great Cape tradition. But in my house we call it a fucking nightmare.