Late one night a taxi driver deposited six gentlemen at Terrylin and sped off into the darkness.
There was a cacophony of blubbering and babbling. I didn't understand a word.
The leader Flavio, could speak a smidgen of English. Marcio had left his carry-bag on the seat at the airport.
All his money, his passport, traveller's cheques, his life, was in that bag, Mario explained excitedly.
Steven 'phoned airport security and was told that they had the bag, intact.
The message was relayed to Flavio, who waving his hands in the air and grinning like a madman informed all and sundry. They whooped and hollered.
And, nearly lifted the garage door off its hinges to push the Renault down the driveway.
While Steven was looking for the car keys, he loses everything, I was frantically attempting to open the gate, with Marcio running in and out.
The next morning Flavio told me that Marcio did not sleep very well as he slept on his carry-bag.
On the other hand Emily arrived as calm as you please.
While in Cape Town she had mislaid her passport.
Emily then had to fly to Johannesburg find accommodation and travel to Pretoria the following morning to apply for a temporary passport.
"Tomorrow is a holiday," I tell her.
"Another one?" she sighs. "So I'll have another day then. And I've just re-arranged my flight schedule!"
We have many public holidays in South Africa. Best to check on the days first.