Driving along a Coastal Road

Driving along a coastal road warm memories come flooding in:

I'm a child sitting in the back seat driving along the road to Durban ...the first sight of the sea brings a warm fuzzy feeling as I anticipate the arrival at the Claridges Hotel, it's musty smell mixed with that of polish and inviting aromas as we pass the dining room; the clanging of the lift-gate as it shuts and rattles its way up to our floor." Can we go to the beach now Daddy ...can we...can we?" as we settle our luggage in the room. Then the warmth of his hand as we make our way along the promenade: the smell of candy floss and toffee apples that make my mouth water. The candy striped deck chairs and colourful umbrellas, buckets, spades and sun hats and the fresh salty smell of the sea. Dad and I run to the water’s edge as Mom waves us off content behind her sunglasses and book. Screams of delight all around us; I tentatively dip in toes then bravely enter waist high into the water jumping over the waves as I hold tightly to Dad's hand. Seagulls fly overhead their guttural calls fade in the distance as they swoop down onto the beach then scatter in all directions as a Golden Retriever adds to the fray chasing after a ball. We build sand castles soaking up the warmth of the sun....I squeal as the waves come in....dangerously close!

Now I'm a teenager.... driving along the coastal road to Margate. This is our new favourite holiday destination and my sister and I cannot wait to get there. Thoughts of beach games, volley ball and flying kites; surfers riding the waves and golden life guards in high chairs like deities with dark glasses. Bikinis and lashing of coconut suntan lotion...butterfly stirrings in my tummy elicited by sideways glances. A sea breeze playfully blowing off sun hats and lifting up skirts....and there a wolf whistle...no that’s Dad teasing me again... and my sister (five years younger) mocking me with rolling eyes and pulling funny faces....

I'm a mother now...driving along the coastal road to Salt Rock. My daughters: Candice (3yrs) and Vicki (2 yrs) are in the back seat chattering away excitedly. "Are we there yet....are we nearly there?" Pictures of us all together pass sweetly through my mind: a blanket spread out in a shady spot with food basket, towels and colourful hats, Suntan Lotion Factor 5, and ever present buckets and spades which never go out of fashion...Vic’s (my husband) mom: Olive and dad and Aunt Edna; my mom and Henny (she remarried after Dad’s passing) all take turns with the girls scooping them up, laughing uproariously. Then Vic builds a sand castle with them. I brush aside an errant tear as I see my father smiling... still youthful frozen in time, having passed away when Candice was just 2 months old " Look Dad" I say: "isn't that a picture?" And I sense his pride and pleasure.

I'm a grandmother now....except for Vic’s dad (now 93) the others too have passed on (to who knows where?): my mom and Henny, sister: Michelle, Olive and Edna....

And one day I shall again drive along a coastal road excited by the prospect of playing with my grandson: building sand castles on the beach: reliving all these memories once again....and again...and again...and again.