Serendipity

Several years ago I found myself in a guest house called Serendipity in the Eastern Transvaal town of Sabie (in South Africa). I was alone, on a tedious mission to renew my driver's licence. And despite the name, my lodgings were anything but a welcome surprise to the soul - they were dingy, hollow and somber, with a passé 1960s feel about them. I don't have good memories of the place at all...

So, what's that got to do with anything, anyway, you may ask?

Well, this afternoon, after a decidedly disagreeable day, I once again headed into the bowels of Tana to give extra English lessons ... which, despite my initial misgivings, turned out to be remarkably pleasant and productive. And then, heading home in the evening gloom, windswept and sick of the snarling, fume-belching traffic, I chanced upon a still-open Cookie Shop. Ah, what sweet serendipitous joy - seeing the welcoming beacon of hope, connoisseur of coffeeness and all that's good about bagels, with lights on and doors open ...

I wish there were another like it closer to home. But then, these moments, at the end of a hard day, wouldn't be as special. Or serendipitous, I suppose.

P.S. If you live in the first-world, where you have limitless choice, you may be asking yourself, "Why would anyone get so excited about a coffee shop?" Well, the Cookie Shop is the only one of its kind in a country with restaurants that serve mud-tasting, indescribably-bad, insipid, milkless excuses for coffee. So, it is, indeed, something special, something to write home about ...