A puzzle of nostalgia

Ride a fat bike through the town where you grew up - an abiding landmark in your life - and behold the picture that reveals itself.

- RYNO EKSTEEN

You don't easily forget the place where you first tasted condensed milk from the tin.

I recently rode a fat bike around the Southern Cape town where I'd grown up, and I was pleasantly surprised by how lovely everything still was. The infrastructure is being well maintained. I'm proud of where I come from.

Santie wrote in my matric autograph book: "May all your problems be small ones."

IT'S EASY TO GET TRIPPED UP when you retrace the steps of your youth. "Name, surname, animal, town" may thus be altered to protect some parties from embarrassment, unhappiness or feelings of hurt. Also to protect the man himself, who keeps looking over his shoulder as he rides his bike.

Nostalgia and memory games are like a large jigsaw puzzle full of wheatfields and mountains and blue sky. Many puzzle pieces are similar, or appear the same from a distance.

Those were the days before barcodes and airbags in vehicles.

The village is not much bigger than a postage stamp, yet the locals speak of their city hall. It remains a beautiful building. It's where grand events like wedding receptions were held. Concerts were held in the school hall and bazaars in the church hall.

The neighbouring town had a drive-in, and in between the trailers that preceded the feature film homemade adverts for dried fruit, sheep for slaughter and air compressors would flash across the big screen. Just written on ruled paper and cellotaped to a noticeboard. Everything doesn't always have to be perfect and dolled up. As long as the heart of a message is in the right place. I watched my first movie at the drive-in: e'Lollipop.