THE YEAR THAT WAS AND . . . . The Year We’ll Pretend We’re Ready For
A nother year has meandered past in Greyton, proving once again that while the world melts, wars, burns, shouts, collapses, rebrands, re- boots, issues tariffs or false hysteria, our village continues its preferred pastime: remaining serenely unbothered. Take the Springboks. They did it again, sending the planet into spirals of emo- tion. Ireland wept softly into their pints, France complained with great elegance, England pretended to be fine, and here in Greyton someone rang a celebratory bell at Fiore. A few residents draped their dogs in green-and-gold jerseys, and everyone agreed that it was simply mar- vellous that the Boks have a scrum three times more powerful than anyone else, before returning to the far more pressing matter of which café’s almond croissant is worth the drama. Meanwhile, South Africa at large offered its usual mixed bag of national entertain- ment. Politics resembled a long-running improv show in which the performers have only two instructions: Don’t make sense. Don’t make eye contact. Economically, the Rand attempted a bungee jump without a rope, and the GNU ricocheted from one drama to another, before discovering the greatest personal economic growth is A humorous retrospective & speculative forecast from the village that panics only about water pressure and bad planning proposals. MIKE ASH
Culturally, the village thrived. Shops opened, closed, and reopened three months later with a new name, new décor, and the exact same carrot cake. Art exhibitions multiplied; gardens erupted into competitive splendour; local and national musicians carried us through emotional peaks; and the popular beer and wine events ensured no one suffered the catastrophe of a dry weekend. Tourists continued their weekly migration, arriving in convoys of bakkies that cause mild phil- osophical crises at the four-way stop. And now, 2026 looms. What can we expect? Globally: elections, meltdowns, diplomat- ic slap-fights, another billionaire launch - ing themselves into space, and probably a new streaming service called “Yet Another Subscription You Don’t Need.” Nationally: political focus on corruption (except in the leadership), promises that may or may not materialise, and the ever-hopeful chance that the Boks will de- liver us from despair once again. Locally? The mountains will remain majestic. The horses, cows and pigs will continue their slow takeover. Someone will start a new venture selling laven- der-infused-fermented-honey-quino- asomething. Someone else will complain that Greyton is “changing too much” while ordering the same salad they’ve eaten for 12 years. And so, Greyton marches into another year, gloriously unchanged, charmingly
inside SAPS and their delinquent bro’s. Greyton’s response? A shrug, a stretch, a sip of flat white, and the sort of philo - sophical calm usually reserved for monks and golden retrievers. Of course, we had our own adventures. The fires returned, as they do, with all the enthusiasm of an uncle who always arrives at the braai uninvited but insists he was “just passing by.” Our volunteer firefighters once again proved them - selves superheroes disguised as ordi- nary people with radios and bakkies. They charged up hills, down kloofs, and into smoky oblivion while the rest of us refreshed WhatsApp groups and offered emotionally supportive muffins and some also kindly offered funding. Then there is the TWK fiasco, Greyton’s least favourite municipal soap opera. Absolutely nobody undestood what was going on, including several people in the TWK. But it gave us all a fresh excuse to complain about rates, fraud, incompe- tence, water pressure, and why potholes in Greyton seem to achieve long-term residency status more reliably than many humans. Some of them are now considered by residents for heritage status.
peculiar, and stubbornly itself. Never still. Always the same. And thank goodness for that.
26
THE GREYTON POST
JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2026
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