I live in an especially beautiful part of the world. Subtropical. Coastal. Rural. Forest. Windy roads – (un)sealed. Offroad. Great motorcycling country. And the weekends remind me of Northern Germany (the Niederlaenders and local petrol-heads would head for us – we had the only hill(s) and windy roads for a couple of hundred kilometrers). Groups of ego-ridden dick-heads riding like they stole it. Probably been watching that “world-end clock” counting down to 2027 …
You learn to stay home weekends.
We have a local cafe. Perched out over the harbour. On piles. Like a wharf. Has a balcony out back. Open. Above the water. Non-Smoking. Top spot for a cone or two. Was sitting there the other day. Primed. Contemplating. As you do. Been coming here for decades. Family have been living in the area for much much longer. Generations.
I then rode along the beach. The same beach my family have been using for hundreds of years. West Coast. Full geomorphing powers of tide and weather. Got a feed of mussels from the same rocks used by the same families for generations. Got water and brewed a coffee from the same spring used for generations. Came back thru the harbour mouth using the same wave-cut rock-bench that has been there for god only knows how long.
Makes you think. If you can – that is.
thexscafe 
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