Reviews #1

Introducing a new weekly phenomenon that will change your life for the better

Welcome to the first ever “Reviews” - a weekly article in which I review pretty much anything that can be reviewed. This really is everything once you start thinking about it, except maybe other people’s children. The cover image was created by one of my dearest, @jeanelle_vdm on Instagram and I could not recommend her brilliant eye more. Instead of my initial idea to spend one week’s reviews solely on books and the next on say, tanning salons (I don’t do that, my Germanic dermatologist would kill me), each weeks reviews will feature an assortment of things. Now take my soft hand and walk with me, I will tell you what is going to happen: I will spend a single day or weekend in which I undertake activities, events, classes, (near-death) experiences etc. that I will then review. I will try to keep these as universal and international as possible (with some being unavoidably Capetownian), but most in-person activities will be London or UK based. Becoming a paid subscriber will give you access to a large part of the list, and enable me to afford to attend The Ballet so that I may review the ways in which it felt like bone broth for the soul, or just made me feel overweight. I will try to review that which I mainly feel positive about, as being nasty about things is just too easy or bad karma. Obviously this will be unavoidable at times but I am not going to ruin people’s businesses - or lives, anymore. Sometimes, I will find a way to cheat and be tempted to pretend that all the activities I reviewed came from a single day when that would have been physically impossible (like this one), or when I just can’t be bothered by 5pm. On those rare occasions, I will be honest because I am a human and that is all we have going for us.

After a bit of time, I will accept recommendations from you (the readers) for things that I should go out and do. I will be Marina Abramovic and you will be holding the knife. When that time comes, I will clearly highlight what I will and will not do, for instance: no swingers parties as I am monogamous and no zoos because I have a heart in my chest. We clutch at these screens so that we may escape into their warm, tight hole and leave the world’s cold shoulder behind. As a result, much of these reviews will feature things that Don’t Matter. Like restaurants and parks and furniture shops and shampoos and certain books. Please do not take this to mean that I am a bored, banal, over-privileged, dilettante (I am only one of these). The books that are published on paper in my name will deal with the things that Matter and the words that I write inside this white screen will deal with the things that Tickle You Pink. For now. More things to know: I will, as always, record myself reading this newsletter for the sight-impaired and (I suspect more often) the lazy. And lastly, all sticky cards on the table: this weekly exercise is for me as much as it is for you - after the past few years’ being affected by a spot of anxiety driven agoraphobia, I am now inventing a way to force myself to go and do things. At its worst - I avoided all activities that required me to walk alone in the dark, or avoided leaving the house unless it was rush hour or noon, or spent the whole week ruminating about how I was going to get from A to B next week without being murdered or worse. I am still dusting off some of this madness. I am still thanking some of this madness for trying to keep me safe. But now, it is time for Exposure Therapy. So, let my soft hand go and wave me into the cold, dark night - so that I may review the ways in which it makes my metacarpals and my teeth ache. I truly, sincerely, thoroughly, hope that you enjoy.

Sessa - Herne Hill

Category: restaurant Rating: 8/10 Attended: Friday evening Attire: puffer jacket, jeans, pink lipstick Cost: £55 each Vibe: cozy, romantic, unpretentious My mood: sober, hungry

Sessa feels like your friend’s mum (who wears Blundstones and has a lurcher)’s kitchen. It is painted a gorgeous yellow colour and the font looks like it was chosen by someone who knows how to make the eye tell the brain to tell the heart to say: Yes. It is new and far better than its extremely overpriced neighbours (Llewelyns). I do not know why it is called ‘Sessa’ but I long to know (a quick Google suggested Shakespearean for ‘cease’). The menu is chalk on a blackboard on the wall, so that only those with 20/20 vision or an iPhone camera know what to order. This menu option is still the best because A. The Olympia Cafe in Kalk Bay has always done it. B. It is kind to the Lord’s paper. C. It does not spread Covid. D. It is not tacky and hideous and boring. E. It is not a QR code which are a CRIME against humanity. The crowd at Sessa (we were early as I am not drinking alcohol at the moment) was mainly white and English as to be expected from Herne Hill and also from this country. It was made up of a lot of couples who probably wear corduroy trousers, Anthropology majors and people that are probably very earnest about getting someone’s pronouns right (good). No one was particularly attractive, no one was terribly unattractive, even though everyone was eating beans. Actually, the chefs in the open plan kitchen all looked vaguely like blonde me’s which was nice and slightly surprising for a Friday night; I kept wondering, ‘where is their Chef Daddy?’ Like how the pilot is always a balding old man and you think, ‘thank God’ - but not too old that there is a risk of him keeling over, face-to-motherboard and expiring mid-air.

You can do the maths of the sheer volume I managed to ingest in order to reach the cost recorded above

As you can see, a few things required asking the waitress (who had cool piercings and eyeliner and so must be the person behind this nice handwriting), “what is that?”. An atmosphere which encourages such conversations - “it is Perello olives, anchovies and chilli on a skewer” - rather than the shameful introverted Googling under the table of the words “monza di pozza’ (I did both) - is always a good one. We ordered everything on the menu except a few things. The boys were beside themselves about the brown crab welsh rarebit which was unbelievable and also tasted a bit like marmite. I was beside myself about the free Focaccia not only because it was free but also because it was perfect. We did not order the Jerusalem fartichokes and beans for the obvious reason, though it looked delicious. We got cheese for dessert because we are adults and only now am I regretting it, though we were very full by the time we finished our 19 courses and 1 entire baguette each. The non-alcoholic cocktails were unsurprisingly too sweet because most recovering alcoholics like to replace booze with sugar. I often prefer alcohol to sugar, though, so sadly walked home with a headache from the cherry and pineapple cordials festering in my gut. Other than that, Sessa is charming and you should go there. The breakfast is also good.

Unihertz Jelly Star

Category: tech (cellphone) Rating: 7/10 Interacted: Saturday evening Attire: Issey Miyake and Docs Cost: £180 Vibe: adorable, ridiculous, surprising My mood: sleepy, silly

At a friend’s 30th in a cocktail bar in Bristol, I met a mutual friend and had a fascinating discussion about what to do when you are attacked by a shark. This is one of my favourite conversations as it gives me the opportunity to tell tourists who I would rather didn’t visit, all about how terrible our Great White Sharks are. It also gives me the chance to show off my incredible knowledge, as I was doing in that instance, about how to fight a shark: grab its eye socket and punch it in the nose. My new friend then performed the method he believed would be more effective, miming gently pushing the shark’s head to one side and in turn being weightlessly drifted in the opposite direction, away from it. Later on, I was talking to someone else and glimpsed something bright nearby, glowing from my shark sweeping friend’s hand and I immediately approached it, asking genuinely, “excuse me, what is that?” to which he responded simply, “it’s my phone”. The thing was barely the size of an old Nokia and he had GOOGLE MAPS open on the tiny screen! “But what is it??” I asked. “It is the Unihertz Jelly Star”, he said with a straight face.

To get an idea of size, I unfortunately didn’t photograph the one I met and so had to steal this from the internet.

So, obviously I am unable to fully review the Unihertz Jelly Star like someone who personally owns one might. But, I was allowed to have a little play around on my friends’ phone like when you are babysitting a toddler and they keep whining, “do you have any games on your phone?” until you realise it is time to go back on birth control. I discovered that this - the tiniest smartphone ever made - has Netflix! and all the Apps that a normal phone has. It has a camera which works, though apparently has a bit of a yellow hue. It has Spotify which is loud enough in earphones or if you put the phone inside a tiny cup or a tiny bowl. It is also jelly-like. I am not sure what they’ve made it out of but it’s sort of round and squishy and translucent and lovely to hold. I’m sure it is lovely to have in one’s pocket too, unlike its Big, Hard, Rectangular cousin. I would imagine someone with bad eyesight might want to avoid them. More things I know about the Unihertz Jelly Star: it was made by Germans. It is always a conversation starter which can get tiring. It is always a conversation starter which can be life-saving. It comes in different colours. It is exactly like a normal smartphone, it is just teeny-tiny. ADORABLE! but completely and utterly: why have humans done this? One tends toward the answer: ‘why not.’

Copia Eco Cabins - Botriver

Category: accommodation Rating: 7.2/10 Attended: Tuesday overnight Attire: tracksuit, bikini, pajamas Cost: £50 each Vibe: simple, outdoors, private My mood: relieved

A few years ago, I surprised my gorgeous English boyfriend with a trip to Waterval, an eco cabin on a hill overlooking some mountains near Botriver. The cabin had a Braai, a wood-fired Jacuzzi, a fireplace and everything else you might need for survival. We quickly came up with a pre-historic-gruff-voiced chant: “man. make. fire” because my boyfriend spent the next 12 hours tending fire while I chopped things for the Poitjie and flounced around naked, enjoying the lack of neighbours. We didn’t know each other well then, and we had a happy time. Him: amazed and invigorated by the bafflingly beautiful natural world of my home country, and me: excited about the marrow bones in the Poitjiekos. Almost three years later, we returned to Waterval not even on purpose but because it was the only available cabin on short notice (we desperately needed a night away from my family). The only day that rained for the 2 months I was at home, it was still beautiful to sit in the jacuzzi overlooking the green with a glass of champagne but for a few reasons it was not as perfect as it had been the first time.