On Saturday morning, I woke up pretty confused. We had some of the old winter ‘flu lurking around the house, so it was an early evening. As a result, I woke up in the early morning hours and trolled around on my phone until the sun came out. We had no juice in the house, and the kids needed some, so my youngest and I headed out to check the waves and grab some juice.
The waves were small but ok, a few people were out, and the sun glared into our eyes from the east.
It was only when we went over the final Cape St Francis speed bump that it dawned on me that the timing of our morning was a little bit out. Not many shops are open in St Francis at 06:15 in the morning, but I had already promised my daughter a treat at the St Francis Bakery, and there was still the issue with juice.
We hooked a right into Tarragona, heading for Bruce’s carpark to check the swell direction – there is a cool, elevated view of the swell lines, and you can roughly ascertain where the swell is coming from.
It was tiny (from the west), and we headed towards the village en route to Anne’s. As we passed the church, a taxi came tearing up the hill so fast that I literally jumped in my seat with fright and swore loudly in front of my daughter, who, I fear, might or might not have heard me swear before. I was totally not expecting an early morning drama.
Slightly Foggy
I was still slightly foggy from sleep, so I viewed the world from a very slow perspective, but this wide-eyed dude appeared to have been clocking about 110 up that hill as he screamed past me. Probably less, but fast enough to be totally dangerous.
There are a couple of bumps and stop streets and gutters in that section, and there was no way he would negotiate them at that speed, but I faded around the corner and lost him in the rearview mirror, so I have no idea what happened next.
“That’s not going to end well,” I said aloud.
Then, a sudden wave of anger.
What if I had been pulling out of Harbour Road, and he came up the hill at that speed and didn’t stop in time?
What if he connected with my car, with my daughter inside?
Also, what the hell was the insane rush at 06:20 on a Saturday morning?
Was he still on from the jol? Was he still dopped up?
Do people have the knowledge that they can drive like this in the village with impunity?
If so, what gives them this sense of impunity?
What To Do?
What do I do as a resident, father and local?
Go to Facebook and rant, as many people do in St Francis? It doesn’t help in any way, and it’s childish.
Go to the police station? That’s not going to work.
Do I phone Calibre and say that a taxi is going too fast up a hill, and I’m very, very upset about it?
At least they will be sympathetic, but there’s no crime committed, no charge to be laid. No, just an indignant, slightly podgy resident with a history of mood instability as a sole witness to a car speeding.
Do I turn around, follow him, with my 12-year-old daughter in the car, and try to find the taxi to get the registration to give to security to run the plates? For what?
There is no Traffic Police Unit in our area. They come once a year to Cape St Francis, hide around the corner and issue fines to every single person who goes through that three-way stop street until they have reached their targets, then they go home.
Granted, they do have a presence in St Francis Bay over the week of New Year and around the bigger events, but that’s about it.
It’s pretty disorderly out there, readers, if we must be honest. Please be careful on our roads.
In closing, by the time I had calmed down and worked through my wave of anger, the shops had opened. My daughter got her treat from the bakery, I got my Caffè americano, and we got some juice. We headed home slowly, enjoying the rest of the early morning vibes.
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