Log> The day in numbers

My first day in Cape Town. After 20 hours on a bus, it's far but worth it. Today, I read out my favorite passage in Hamlet (from Act 2, Scene 2) to a girl from a book she'd found under her bed the day before. The book is Tragedies I, and the volume is over 130 years old - based on the inscription, a gift from a father to a son on June 10th in the latter part of the 19th century. And the coffeeshop I had breakfast in only played songs I've given 5 stars in my own iTunes Library. Scrambled catharsis on toast, please.

I haven't updated in a while because I was in Port St. Johns on the Wild Coast, the hippiest place I've been to in a long while - just a truck-load of love, really. Like many there, I ended up staying a bit longer than I intended and it was the best of times. I even got out to the waves, only to fall off my board on the reefs cutting my toes. That meant I had to spend a day being pampered in a hammock overhanging a ravine of monkeys with views out to the surf.

Right now I'm reading Justin Cartwright's Not Yet Home, a travelogue of South Africa in the years 1994-1996; and listening to Black Uhuru (Guess who's coming to dinner? -Natty Dreadlock).