Have you been through Cape Town airport recently? It's the closest thing to pure, unadulterated chaos I have ever seen. When I arrived at my hotel on the Cape Town foreshore I looked across the city to see the astonishing Green Point stadium, which looks so light and beautiful that you half expect it to lift off and float away. It is jaw-droppingly gorgeous.
During that short stay, I was the guest of a generous host, who invited me to dine at Sol Kerzner's One&Only hotel at the Waterfront. That, too, was breathtaking. The height of the reception rooms, the meticulous classical styling that is opulent but not vulgar, and the view from the windows to a spectacular garden are the kinds of things you usually only see in Hollywood movies.
We dined at Nobu, the Japanese restaurant in the hotel, and once again it was a rare experience. Its design is classic-Japanese-meets-Art-Deco, but it is the volume of space that dazzles. The food is some of the subtlest, most elegant, cooking I have ever tasted. It comes at a price, but if you want a meal served with delicacy and precision, Nobu is where you will find it.
All that beauty and elegance dulled the sense of disorder I had felt when I arrived at Cape Town airport, where everything was covered with grime and you had to walk up makeshift ramps to the roar of machines, with the suffocating dust and exhaust fumes of a construction site. As I walked out of the arrivals hall, I thought: "I wonder if these guys will be ready for 2010."
A day later, I went back to the airport to go home - and I drove straight into chaos. For the past few years, there has been a lengthy detour for anyone who is returning a hired car. After once getting lost and ending up in a wilderness of empty containers, I eventually worked out the route, which was okay.
But now it's all changed - again. I don't know whether it's the signage that sends you in the wrong direction, or your own genuine misgivings about the jagged, rutted, rock-strewn path to which the sign is pointing. Can it actually be called a road? It was a Kafkaesque moment, not only in terms of spatial confusion but also of pure panic because it became clear to me that I was going to miss my flight.
After driving what seemed to be half way down the West Coast and back, I finally found the hired-car lot and hurried as quickly as my luggage allowed, fully expecting to have missed my flight and swearing an oath that next time I would allow two hours to get from the Cape Town city bowl to the airport.
I raced into the departures terminal and headed for the SAA check-in, where I was met with a sight I only expect to see again on Judgment Day, when the Doomsday angels will pass judgment on the quick and the dead - or, in that airport situation, the early and the late.
Rows upon rows of irritable passengers stood in inadequate air-conditioning, moving as slowly and irritably as politicians who are being forced to say how much they paid for that new car.
Eventually I got onto a plane and that was fine. SAA is good at its job - certainly no worse than others - and we were soon back in Jo'burg. But I must tell you that I left Cape Town airport with a deep sense of foreboding. I cannot see how that unholy scramble of confusion and irritation, makeshift loos and temporary detours can be ready for next year's World Cup.
In just six weeks, we will be in 2010. The summer holidays are starting and the airport is going to be filled to capacity with holiday-makers. To manage that rush, and to turn the existing chaos I saw at the airport into a sleek, easy-to-navigate, air-conditioned building with good signage and lavatories that don't look like death camps is going to take an effort that would make Hercules blanch.
I hope Ma Zille puts on some gumboots, a hard-hat and carries a sjambok for her next visit to the airport because someone needs to wake up.
And it didn't end there. My destination, OR Tambo International, looks lovely, but have you parked in the spanking new phase two parking garage?
If you haven't yet, take some form of camera with you because if you don't actually take a photograph of your car, including the colour-coded pillars, the alphabetised zone and the numerical location of the parking bay, you may never see it again.
I spent half as much time looking for my car as it took me to fly from Cape Town. If I - a Jo'burger born and bred, who has been using this airport for decades - can be totally stymied by parkade two, Lord help the foreigners when they start arriving for the soccer. I'm guessing that much more than just soccer balls will get a booting.
Collecting
Forget stamps and art. According to Forbes magazine, the latest collecting trend among the world's super-rich is to accumulate (and drink) rare, unusual and very old whiskies. It is the most surprising trend of the 21st century and a social phenomenon in the world's most influential boardrooms. A bottle of 1926 Macallan whisky now costs $38000 (about R290000) but, if you are economising, a bottle of Chivas Regal 50-year-old Royal Salute is a snip at $10000 (about R76000). No wonder whiskey has become the politician's bribe of choice.
Skating
If you are in Jo'burg for December and you need some escapist fun, Cinderella on Ice is a high-camp treat. It's decked out in gorgeous costumes and uses classical ballet choreography, but it remains pretty much in the domain of pantomime because everyone is on skates, zipping around this huge ice-rink doing leaps and pirouettes that no ballet dancer can match. It sounds like kitsch on a stick but, believe me, the final effect is dazzling. Visit www.montecasinotheatre.co.za for information.
Giving
As we head towards Christmas, US toy companies are saying Hannah Montana merchandise is already the year's top-seller. Beyond the DVDs, the hottest girlie accessory is the Miley Cyrus Yearbook 2010, with a new poster and a calendar listing her concerts. For more, go to www.hannahmontanazone.com.
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SA Granny