Happiness is rarely what you think it is
I recently did a road trip with two cousins, one from upcountry and the other visiting from New Zealand. It was late-winter, a little rainy, with some snow on the mountains. We had driven through the Little Karoo and turned towards the coast. Unhappy with our accommodation, we headed towards the next town, a popular sea resort.
The town was empty and accommodation was easy to find. Keen to have an early supper, we dumped our bags and walked through the rain to the first restaurant that looked feasible (and open).
It was only when the waiter asked us if we had any trouble on the roads, not the usual banter with waiters, we realised something could be afoot. Curious, we took out our phones and were met with an avalanche of news about passes that had been closed, roads washed away and stranded travellers. We had literally surfed the crest of a mega storm for days.
The road we travelled hours earlier was closed and only open to emergency vehicles. Mountain passes were closed, roads had washed away.
‘There was a lot of bad weather. You were lucky to get this far.’
We stared blankly at the waiter and then at each other.
The waiter hovered patiently while we checked weather reports.
Good grief.
‘Well,’ said the waiter, ‘Can I bring you a little happiness?’
‘Of course!’ we chorused. ‘Nothing less would do!’
When the wine arrived, we realised that ‘happiness’ was in fact a bottle of sparkling wine (pink) with the inspired label of ‘Happiness’!
Evidently, happiness can be bottled. Happiness is also shareable.
We had one of the most memorable evenings in an empty restaurant during an epic winter storm.
It never occurred to us to worry about getting home. If all the mountain passes were closed, we had no way of getting home, but for now, we had a place to eat and a place to sleep. Tomorrow would take care of itself.
The sky had cleared by the time we walked home and the sky full of stars.