Around six, the sun does something here that nobody has ever properly described.

So we stopped trying, and started pouring sundowners instead.

Barefoot on warm stone. Still wet from the sea.

Someone's cousin arriving with more ice.

Nobody's in a hurry. Nobody's counting.

The braai will be ready when it's ready.

There's a right-hander down the way so good that a film crew called it perfect in 1966 and went home happy.

It's still there. So is the light.

Come as you are. Bring whoever.

Stay for the light.