Sunday





The Kops’ get up. Kate says she can’t possibly go to the gym today because all her sports bras are in the wash. Rob says the sports bras are a wasted cause anyway as Kates’ norgs cant possibly go any further south than they are. As always, Kate mentally stores Robs’ comments for future use, to be brought up when Rob really wants something, like his back scratched, or to be allowed to play golf.



They get in the car and head towards a town called Tongaat. Rob has arranged to look at a car as a possible ‘runaround’. It’s a yellow VW beach buggy that they found on gumtree.com and while the cool factor for this car is undoubtedly high, Kate doesn’t want her kids bouncing out onto the road because it’s a bit too beach buggy-ish. She imagines she’ll feel like something from a Scooby Doo cartoon in it.



Tongaat is a couple of miles away from Balitto and has a high Indian population with quite a few poor blacks. It reminds Kate of Tooting, and despite the ramshackle shops and tatty looking buggers on the streets she likes it. The man with the car is a skinny Indian called Mr Arbee who is very softly spoken and smiley. Kate thinks he has a kind of benevolent Ghandi look about him, with his calf length baggy trousers and sandals. What a sweet little man she thinks. Rob thinks he looks like an Al Quaeda operative..



Mr Arbee is very honest and says that there’s a few things that need doing to the car before it’ll pass its ‘Roadworthy’ or MOT, but says he’ll sort that out for us if we decide to take it. The Kops’ pile in for a test drive and head off down the road. The sun is shining and the sky is blue. They are whizzing through beautiful green tropical countryside. What a fabulous car thinks Kate.



Hmmm. There are no seatbelts in the buggy. Mason is on Kate’s lap in the front seat and Charlie is grizzling in the back because there’s no room for his ever lengthening storky legs. Kate says that there’s not supposed to be that much room, and in a few years time he’ll be glad to drive around looking all tanned and blond and buff, with a legion of hot chicks hanging out of the back. Charlie stops grizzling. Kate starts grizzling because she’s got a wet bum from the seat. (the car has no rag top) and says that will have to be sorted as she cant be sitting around in wet knickers every time she pops out to the shops.

Rob attempts to shut her up by turning into a leafy lane, and telling her to have a drive.

Kate hops into the drivers seat and as she puts the gear into reverse, feels an ominous clunk. She can’t get the car to reverse, it’ll only go into first. Shit, she thinks, I’ve broken the bloody car. Robs lips go all thin and folded up and he gives her his ‘This has happened because you are a female and therefore incompetent’ look. Kate returns this with a counter-look that would send the testicles of normal men scuttling back up inside their body cavities. Rob, however, is now immune to this form of attack and grunts at her to let him drive. Right, like he’ll be able to make it go, thinks Kate.



Rob can’t make it go, well he can, but the car won’t get out of first gear as they crawl back along the road, the engine screaming in pain. “THERE’S A KAFFIR TAXI BEHIND US!” screams Charlie. Kate tells him not to use that word but goes pale as she looks behind her and sees about six of them lined up behind them. She can see the guy in the front one bouncing up and down, eyes rolling. Arms are waving around out of the windows, making what Kate assumes are rude Zulu gestures. These bloody taxis engender the same kind of response in a human being as a great white shark might do if it came up behind you when snorkelling. They have the same capacity to cause death and destruction.



Kate hears Rob cursing and turns around. Up ahead is a police roadblock and they are waved at to stop and pull over. Kate feels relieved. She would rather face a nice friendly policeman than deal with the nasty mini vans behind them. Rob stops the car and a fat, sweaty looking black policeman approaches them. His uniform looks like it could do with a boilwash and Kate certainly feels none of the usual stirrings of lust that the sight of a man in uniform usually creates in her. Mason’s eyes are bulging out of his head with glee and delight. A real live policeman!! Perhaps this one will take him for a nice ride in his car like the ones in England did when Daddy totalled the Ford Focus!!



The policeman starts berating Rob for driving a car without a tax disc and license plate and seatbelts. He asks Rob questions then when Rob tries to answer he cuts him off with more shouting. Kate is horrified! What a rude little man! Kate hopes his wife knows how to deal with him! There’s no Please Sir/Madam like you’d get from a nice English traffic cop, thinks Kate wistfully, and the English ones look sooo much nicer in their uniforms, especially the ones on motorbikes with their long leather boots….Her reverie is interrupted by Rob shouting; ‘IF YOU’LL JUST LET ME GET A WORD IN EDGEWAYS, OKE!!’ Kate feels a bit guilty, it’s usually her job to get cross with ignorant people and shout at them, should she start getting stroppy with this revolting perspiring creature? She remembers watching movies about people getting locked up in foreign jails and never being seen again and decides to keep her trap shut.



Rob produces his UK driving license. The fat policeman looks confused. He marches off to his car with the license telling Rob he’s giving him a ticket. Rob repeats his story of giving the car a test drive and the policeman tells him to give the ticket to the owner.



Rob stands there rolling his eyes at me and the kids. The policeman is rustling around with bits of paper on his bonnet looking at us now and again. Charlie is trembling in the back seat. Mason says he doesn’t like the beach buggy and wants a poo. The policeman finishes his rustling, comes over and hands Rob his license back and says he’s letting him off with a warning. ‘But don’t let mee see thees cah on thee road ehgen…. thees theeng, she ees naht roadwortheee!’



As they crawl back to Mr Arbee in first gear, Kate asks what that was all about. Rob says one of two things; either the cop was confused by Rob’s UK license and was too lazy to deal with the hassle of finding out how to issue a ticket with it, or he had no intention of giving us a ticket and was waiting for a bribe. Rob says it was probably the latter. Kate’s mouth hangs open in indignation. Unattractive, poorly dressed and corrupt! Kate doesn’t think much of the SA police force so far! They don’t buy the car.