Long Street

Red:Writers is one of our excellent groups that meet around the city twice a month. You can find out more about red:writers here. Here is a sample of some of the things they have been up to. Enjoy!

There’s this song that I hear on the radio sometimes, and when I do, I go on a trip in my mind. I know exactly where I’m going to go. It’s a deli on Long Street. Long Street is my favourite street in Cape Town. It’s this eclectic mix of random shops – you can pick up tourist junk, beautiful fabrics, great coffee, old vinyl records, secondhand books, beaded jewellery, and the best milkshakes in town at Mr Pickwicks. And the best thing about Long Street is that it lives up to its name. It’s long. You can spend half the afternoon just strolling up it in the sunshine, checking out all the little side streets, looking at the stuff you’d buy if money wasn’t tight. And then you turn around and do exactly the same down the other side of the street. Maybe if you have time, when you get to the top, you can check out the weird secondhand store on the corner with Kloof Street, or call in to Arnolds Cafe for an ice-cold beer on the front benches. Or maybe sit up on one of the first floor verandas along the side of the street, and sip a cocktail while Table Mountain glows in the sunset and all the world feels as it should be. 

When I hear this song, I remember the deli on Long Street. The lady behind the counter is called Tumega. This song was playing. I liked it, and I was singing along. I didn’t know I was doing it. Neither did she. We laughed when we caught each other’s eye and realised we were both singing a little too loudly. I went there every day for lunch when I worked on Long Street. Tumega and I used to have some laughs. I love hearing that song. When I hear it, I’m standing in the deli, with sunglasses and flipflops and a book for my lunchtime read. When I hear it, I’m laughing with Tumega, before I stroll back to work, ever so slowly, soaking up every minute of being on Long Street. When I hear it, I feel different. Like someone else, in some other place, some other time. Like maybe I was a different person back then. Maybe happier. Maybe a little more sure of myself. Maybe a little closer to what I should be, and a little nearer to understanding what life is all about.  It’s a good song.

Sometimes I try to see Belfast in the same light. It’s easier on sunny days. Something about sunshine – it makes people change. Inhibitions get thrown off for the day – just until the sun goes down. People relax. Sure, life is hectic and work is stressful, but right now, the sun is out. Life can wait. Or maybe, this is life.

I think I might have found my Long Street in Belfast. Those little cobbled streets and alleyways in the Cathedral Quarter do something to me. When I hit them, I want to slow down. I want to take my time walking through them – savour it, soak it up, calm myself, before I hit the mayhem of Royal Avenue. I love that there are places there that no one knows about. Little bars and restaurants, galleries, tucked away, so that only the persistent, the people who really care, will find them. I feel different when I’m there. Maybe a little happier. Maybe a little more sure of myself. Like I’m getting to the heart of the city, and maybe the city is getting to my heart. It’s not Long Street. But that’s ok. It’s Belfast. And it’s a good song.

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