Summers in the Cape Winelands can be hot, really hot. It is hell if you are not on holiday. For some reason, the weather is always pleasant when you are covered in SP50 and wearing sandals and a sunhat. Sun-deprived tourists flock to Cape Town and the Winelands during summer. What is not to enjoy: cloudless skies, blue mountains, first-rate beaches and more wine estates you can visit in a single holiday break. Yes, I live in a beautiful corner of the world.
If it were not for the Protestant Ethic, we would have institutionalised siestas.
A few weeks ago I had an inspired idea. I would combine my (new) exercise routine with a few hours of work at a local coffee shop; my goal, two to three hours of work before most people even drive to work. To ease into what could potentially be a very good and productive habit, I decided to commit to two mornings a week.
They say start small, master easy targets and build from there. Check, and check again. My targeted coffee shop was a ridiculously easy walk/cycle ‘up the road’ – an idiomatic expression at best – and opened every morning at 6, including Mondays.
Just showing up is also a good start
I had visions of cycling effortlessly to the coffee shop, messenger bag slung over the shoulder. The idea was very aspirational, but in my defence, I used to be reasonably active and fit, but that was all BC (Before Covid).
The first alarm bells rang the moment I climbed onto the bike. Bicycle seats are not comfortable. Comfort only kicks in after numbness; and that is when you are cycling fit. Then there was the hill – the ‘up the road’ part of getting to the coffee shop – easy to drive but why deceptively tough to cycle? I am embarrassed to confess that I almost ran out of gears, but at least I did not get off to push my bike. Bonus: no eyewitnesses.
The logistics of getting to the coffee shop almost shattered my self-confidence. Since I live in the old part of the city, the main road is narrow. No cycling lane. I was terrified every time a car passed me and wobbled precariously every time a vehicle passed. It invariably happened when I was in dangerous proximity to a lamp pole. Like a nervous horse, I started to shy at lamp poles even if there were no cars about.
The second embarrassment was to navigate the coffee shop’s verandah. It was packed with lean cyclists kitted out in serious gear. Looking more like a lifestyle advertisement, none of them looked as if they had broken out in a sweat all morning. Me, I looked as if I had climbed off an exercise bike in a sauna. Feeling a little self-conscious and decidedly not lean, I tethered my bike to bicycle stand’s frame. Above my bike, the cyclists’ skinny, feather-weight bikes dangled like mobiles in the morning breeze.
Inside the coffee shop, it felt more like familiar territory. The place was full. I was clearly not the first freelance contract worker to come up with the idea of starting the day at 6:30. I cracked open my laptop and thought, showing up is also a good start.