Sunday we fell out of bed at stupid o'clock (half four am) to go through to Heathrow to collect beloved Elize....we got there at quarter past six, ran into Terminal 1 building (what a huge dump!!) and found that her flight had been delayed by twenty minutes. No probs, we thought, we would have some coffee at Costa's.
Eventually the boards indicated that the plane has landed - 35 mins late. A further 20 mins later, it showed that they were busy going through customs and in baggage...ten minutes later I get a text message from my sister - she had managed to slip past me whilst I had gone back to the table, having been shoved aside my every single dodgy taxi driver, clasping placards with names scrawled across them.
The reunion was tearful. She declined the coffee but demanded to be taken outside so that she can have a cigarette. I stared at her in shock. Erm, smoking...cigarette...crap, I forgot she didn't realise the extent of my asthma which I had been afflicted with because both my parents smoked and for 23 years I had been a passive smoker. Reason number 1 why we tend to keep out of smoky pubs...plus it smells terrible.
So we hover outside for a few minutes whilst she drags on her ciggie. In the end we pile into the car, out of revenge for smoking, I make her sit in the back of the jeep. She doesn't complain. Grin. It took around an hour to get home - seriously good going because there was very little traffic. Once we got home she immediately lit up again, in the diningroom. Mark and I were flabbergasted - she didn't ask. Mark's face went a bit pale in annoyance, I opted out of the room to make breakfast scones.
We chatted stiltedly - how much conversation can you pack in after not seeing a person for five years...and before that, I hardly knew her - she is 53 this year. I am 33. I was a babe in arms when she left the house to marry her lovely hubby - I grew up with her kids, my nephew and niece and we were more like brother and sisters than I was with my OWN sister. It was odd. She was amazed that I was "domesticated" - it made me grin, imagining myself living wild in the forest, eating berries and trapping rabbits. What did she expect? I got the size I am by living off love and fresh air?
We chatted a bit more - discovering that we had little enough in common - her life was her daughter, and her grandkids...yep, my niece is older than 21...not quite sure how much older, and she has 2 kids. So the conversation turned to how cute my niece's kids were. And she told us how hard she worked and what a fantastically lucky person she is, having won a few thousand rand on gambling machines...we are MAKING her buy a euromillions ticket this Friday.
After breakfast her eyes started sagging and we packed her off to bed, whilst sitting downstairs in the dying fumes of cigarette smell and wondered how she could not have asked us if she could smoke...we have a perfectly fine garden to do this in - now the entire house just reeks. And I am gasping like a fish.
We watched a movie whilst she slept...then we slept a bit too. The howling 7 year old next door woke me up though after a half an hour nap by shrieking for AN HOUR - having been locked in her bedroom by her mother. Jeezus, on a smurfing Sunday afternoon!! I was tempted to ring the cops or burn their house down. In the end I made sure I closed all the windows - nice one - too try and drown out some of the noise. I kid you not, this little girl is can take part in an Olympic screaming contest and win, hands down.
I was suicidal.
Dinner, once everyone was awake, took place at Zizzi's in Beckenham. She was amazed at how nice the food was, I grinned smugly. We went for drinks afterwards at The George pub and we purposefully sat outside. Mark got slobbered on quite badly by a large black dog the size of a Grizly bear - its name: Barney. Barney proceeded to sniff out hidden treats in Mark's pockets which he tends to keep for Sparrow.
We walked home, chatting a bit more freely now, feeling more relaxed in one another's company.
This morning we saw Mark off to work, got ready and dragged her HUGEly vast suitcase to the station - how much clothes do you need for a week? Mark and I use a cabin sized suitcase for BOTH of us. Anyway, this we left at the Luggage place at Charing X for the day, whilst we went walking around town.
The one thing I have to say about my sister is: she appreciates beauty. As we were at Charing X I took her to Trafalgar Square and her jaw dropped - she confessed to not realising how pretty London could be. I showed her the secret view; standing behind Nelson's Column, you have a view of Big Ben, Houses of Parliament and Westminster...it was a gorgeous morning.
We hit Covent Garden and suddenly found ourselves arm in arm, strolling around, pointing out people. antiques, shops and what we would love to be able to afford. The odd stiffness from yesterday was gone and together we reminisced about my mom, my sisters, my spoilt bratt brother who at 44 should know how to not behave like a 4 year old, but he doesn't. The antiques market was in full swing in the CG and we oohed and aahed. We went to the traditional toymakers Snooks and she bought tonnes of toys for my great-niece and nephew. I got a smurf for Mark. Those in the know would know how much I love the little blue guys! We found a fantastic jewellery shop, spent about half an hour in there and bought a beatifull fresh pearl bracelet with garnets for my niece - even I was amazed at how cheap it was.
I was planning to show her so much more, but we ambled from one stall to another, she charmed a lovely Scottish chap and we chatted to him for ages, finding out all about his own antique trading days. I fell in love with a tiny Jewish man with fierce eyes and the most beautiful smile. He must have been around a hundred, I think. White bearded and dressed in a suit as old as Noah's Ark he ruled three tables and looked like a true Patriach. We ambled some more, I got bought a lovely charm bracelet, to which I added an articulated silver charm teddy AND - the best thing - a tiny viking complete with articulated legs and arms; when you moved his legs, his arms moved too and he has a shield on one arm and an axe in the other hand = so perfect.
I paid for a lovely lunch and we chatted tonnes. Eventually we made our way back to Charing X, we picked up her left luggage and travelled to London Bridge. I stuck her on the train to Luton for her conference, in the care of a very sweet South African boy, of around nineteen who insisted on helping her with this giant bag - he promised me faithfully to look after her. I happily waved them off and came home where I opened every door, window and crevice I could find in the house, lit two incense sticks and took Sparrow for a walk.
I am happy to report the house once again is ours. She is with us on Friday afternoon and flies off to SA on Saturday evening. She is smitten enough with London, thus far, to promise to come back in February for their annual conference...Mark and I are planning to to book her and her lovely hubby into a hotel as we do not think our lungs are up to two weeks' worth of ciggie smoke....
So, it really does go to show how odd it is meeting up with family after a long while. I am glad she came, I have showed her my stomping ground. London is an amazing city and for a newly made Britisher, I am very proud of my city and my adopted country.
I so swear, guv!
