The day, hour by hour
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Morning
Nothing before ten
They have flown overnight. Breakfast happens when it happens, in the garden, with the sea below.
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Late morning
Quad bikes into the hills
Up behind Hermanus on farm tracks, with instructors. Younger children ride with a parent or an instructor; older ones have their own machine after a lesson on the flat. Helmets, goggles, and a great deal of dust.
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Midday
The mountain braai
At the top, a fire already going, meat on the grid, cold drinks in a bath of ice, and the whole of Walker Bay laid out below. There is no table and no waiter. Everybody helps.
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Afternoon
Down to the beach
Slowly, the long way off the mountain, and then straight down to Grotto Beach — two and a half kilometres of white sand, Blue Flag, lifeguarded, and shallow for a long way out. Boards and wetsuits, and an instructor for anyone who wants to stand up properly, but mostly it is boogie boards and being knocked over by the sea. Parents sit on the sand with something cold and watch.
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Before dinner
Their own tasting
While the adults taste wine from the valley behind the house, the children are given their own: four glasses, four juices, and somebody keeping a straight face while they describe the nose. They take it extremely seriously, and nobody is left watching.
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Until the sun goes
Nobody calls time
They come out of the water when the light does. Sandy, salty, wrung out, and already arguing about tomorrow.
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Evening
A fire already going
The braai is lit before they walk back through the gate, so there is no waiting and nothing to cook. Food off the coals, eaten outside with wet hair, and marshmallows afterwards.
