What a Maroon

One would almost think I’d engineered this. Poor Bruce n Heather!

The heavens came down, collapsed the bridge they’d specially had built to let me gain access to their back yard. And so there I was, marooned. Trapped in comfort after Natal’s second big rains in just over a month. The Soutar’s kind offer of a place to stay had turned into captivity. I was forced to stay and drink all their wine. And whisky and sherry. And eat their good food. It was hell.

The rains did eventually stop – after 328mm in just 32 hours!

The workmen started to build a second bridge, more solid than the first, starting from the bottom of the trench and filling it with sandbags.

Then they added thick steel sheets over the sandbags . .

. . and my new bridge was done! I could drive my car again after using ride hail cabs, using their son’s car, and bumming lifts from Bruce. They too, were free at last!


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