For the last thirty days (Tuesdays excepted) I’ve been like a boat without a rudder. Fred Astaire without Ginger Rogers. Laurel without Hardy. Napoleon without Joséphine. Morecambe without Wise (for non UK readers they were a famous double comedy act ). Debbie without Dallas. Think I’ve started to lose the thread but I think you get the idea of the condition I found myself in.
What could cause such a state of mind you’re thinking. Did the rainwater collection tank under the house run dry? Did Rose see sense and leave me? No, nothing as trivial as that! Estel’s Dine By the Sea has been shut so that the owners and staff could all take a well earned break (now that little comment has got to be worth a couple of extra rashers of bacon).
I found other places to have breakfast during the closure. Obviously I did. I mean it’s not like were not spoilt for choice here and they’re all very good in their own way but…
I’ve still been enjoying my early morning “me time” out on the veranda -yep, the western, lagoon facing one on the first floor – with a mug (or two) of black, sugarless, coffee, the iPad and Ziggy but it just wasn’t the same. Something was missing.
They say (well I’m pretty certain someone did) that the older you get the quicker time passes. And it does, I’m sure it does. The two week holiday that’s over before you know it. You know the feeling. But this thirty day abstinence has dragged to the extent that it’s seemed like an eternity (OK I may be over-egging it a bit but I want you to understand and feel the graveness of the situation. Are you feeling it? Good, I’ll continue then).
This morning though I got my equilibrium back. Estel’s reopened and in honour of this momentous occasion I needed something special to wear. No not a tuxedo but something far more classy and fitting, my honorary Estel’s ‘T’ shirt. The decision made itself!
Awarded to me for outstanding loyalty! Jealous? You should be!
I was tempted, sorely tempted to be there when the doors opened at 06.00 hours but I showed amazing levels of self control and didn’t set off from home until 06.30 hours. Impressed? Of course you are.
As I pulled in to my usual parking spot in Buccaneer Street I saw what I had been waiting for. I should add that my ambitions, wants and needs are so much less than they used to be. But I’m happy with this.
I strode purposely across the road, entered Estel’s and found myself a table (very easy to do at that time of the morning) and reacquainted myself with familiar sights.
But something was different. What was it? And then it “hit” me. They’d freshened up the murals above the northern and southern beachfront entrances.
Southern entrance. I’ve only described it as an entrance because once you’re there you (well I can’t speak for you ,so me) don’t want to leave!
Check out the new artwork on the toilet doors too.
Neat eh. No excuse for being confused now!
I’d only been sitting there a few minutes when my mug (the third of the morning) of caffeine arrived.
“Thanks Sam. I’ve missed you”.
And then it arrived.
“Come to Daddy!”
Sam meanwhile assumed photographer duties for some backpackers that were heading off to Mexico.
What about Charles, you’re thinking. Don’t worry he was inside.
“Not considering price increases Charles, are you?”
I’ve not been sitting around waiting for Estel’s to reopen and I’ve got quite a lot to tell you about in future editions but for today I’m just so pleased that the boys are back in town.
The headline for today’s (long awaited) edition is based on the single released in 1976 by Thin Lizzy which reached number eight in the UK Singles Chart and number twelve in the US Billboard Hot 100.