Captain Gemini — A Wet Day in Fordsburg.

2026-09-04

Day Four of Spring.

A Lollipop, a Wet Windscreen, and the Vanishing Humour Bottle.

Captain Gemini reporting from the field, with his correspondent Otto Brinkmeier, sitting in Fordsburg, Johannesburg.

The Bangladeshi agent is currently at the mosque saying his prayers, while I sit here waiting for the next move.

The stock is loaded.

There is a mattress strapped over the back of the vehicle. Canvas has been thrown over the net, and an elastic net has been stretched over the canvas to hold everything down and, hopefully, keep the whole arrangement somewhere near waterproof.

Underneath it all is quite a collection.

Some twenty rolls of vinyl carpets are packed aboard, along with packets of rice, cold drinks, flavoured tobacco, and various other supplies.

And then there is me.

Waiting.

The windscreen is wet.

The roads are wet.

The vehicle is loaded.

And Captain Gemini is frustrated.

So frustrated, in fact, that I am sitting here sucking on a lollipop and contemplating the great mysteries of life — including what on earth my weekend is going to look like.

Fortunately, there is only one more working day left this week.

That is, of course, assuming tomorrow actually happens.

There is a peculiar habit among these gentlemen of occasionally saying:

“Oh, Uncle, don’t worry about coming in tomorrow.”

Which sounds wonderfully reassuring until one remembers that “don’t worry” can sometimes translate into another R150 disappearing from the week’s earnings.

And right now, I need those bucks.

So I am praying that tomorrow does not become another episode of:

“Uncle, don’t worry. Stay home.”

Across the road sits the Lillian Lofts Hotel 🏨.

Its Arabic lettering catches the eye, and beneath the name is a rather appropriate slogan:

“Rest. Relax. Recharge.”

Well.

That sounds excellent.

I could certainly use some of that.

Although, sitting here with a lollipop in my mouth, I find myself wondering whether Rest. Relax. Recharge. is something you eat with salt and pepper — or perhaps something you suck slowly like a lollipop.

At this stage, I’ll take either.

My sense of humour is almost completely depleted.

If I had a bottle containing humour, I’d probably be shaking it upside down right now, hoping to find one final drop at the bottom.

I’m not convinced there is even a drop left.

I think the bottle has evaporated.

Still, the vehicle is loaded, the stock is secure, and the mission continues.

The windscreen may be wet.

The roads may be wet.

The weekend may be uncertain.

But Captain Gemini is still sitting in the field, lollipop in hand, watching, waiting, and hoping that tomorrow brings R150 rather than another “don’t worry, Uncle.”

Such is life on the road.

And so ends another dispatch from the fourth day of spring.

Captain Gemini — reporting from the field.

📰 Captain Gemini
with ChatGPT