Voyager joie de vivre: travel seris, #3
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About this ebook
In Addis to Herms, QS inadvertently finds himself boxed in a multi-layer relationship between two beautiful women, unable to decide who to dump and who to settle for. In the end, he permits himself to experiment with polyamory, an experience he knows nothing about but willing to try in the name of love. To find out how the story of QS, Aida and Nonz end you have to deep dive into the three-part series. This is a cream cake wrapped up in book form: sweet, delicious and comforting leaving you wishing for more. Only a well written novel can give you this feeling.
Abbas QriquaS
Abba QriquaS is author of several books as well as Sustainability advocate. Abba lives in Thembisa, South Africa.
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Voyager joie de vivre - Abbas QriquaS
Voyager joie de vivre joy of travelling book 1
––––––––
Abba Qriquas
Copyright © Abba QriquaS
The characters and events in this novel are fictitious, if an actual place it is used fictitiously any resemblance to real persons living or dead is not intended but coincidental.
The right of Abba QriquaS to be identified as the author of voyager joie de Vivre a travel series book one has been asserted. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
Shout out to Alazar-Kassahun from Unsplash for supplying cover image.
Mambisa to durbs
CONTENTS
About the Novel
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Durban assignment
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‘We are fans of your Stumble through a taxi ride series and would like to host few articles in the Spring issue. If okay, we’d like to offer you a feature story. Please give me a ring so we can discuss further. Regards Editor, DB.’ The email pings on my phone.
WTF who is DB? Oh, that lot from Bryanston, I remember them now. I had pitched my proposal to her about a year ago, and never heard from her again. Now she is interested in my work because I am trending in competitor magazines, why does she wants me onboard now? Wait a minute, it does not matter what her reasons maybe I need the money and the exposure. Luckily, I have enough stories to sell her.
I wonder what did I do right this time to get attention from them and a feature on centre spread, it’s a big to pass up. It is a little surprise that I got from doing nothing to getting so busy in such a short space of time.
It was not because I lacked the urge to explore, rather, it was because another major piece would happen first. Harbour is certainly not the place I would have ordinarily written about. The classic Fairmont café would be an interesting starting in exploring this secret pearl, Harbour. And so, I accepted my Durban assignment with great fanfare and anticipation.
QS
––––––––
My name is QS (queues) for short. Yes, really, lines. If you prefer Si, I am okay with that too. Other than that, I am utterly forgettable little man. The reader who never pays attention to things hasn’t noticed that I have already vanished from their mind. It is more complicated to notice than I make it sound here. I don’t know how to explain this thing to you. So, forget the name okay, let’s get on with the story.
I am the pale actor who sheds no lustre of my own but spins in a reflected light of others. The reader my mirror: if the light goes out; I vanish. I exist because the reader exits.
You should know that I am not smart, not brave. No special person at all. Nothing unusual ever happens to me, quite the opposite in fact. What I mean by all this is that I have always been ordinary and nondescript.
When I was growing up, I always believed the most remarkable thing about me is my name, which comes from the word jewel and gemstones are beautiful, sparkling and prized. All the things I am not and never will be. I am so unattractive back in the day kids of my neighbourhood used to tease me for my ugliness, ‘Joe, you are so ugly, you even-scare-your-grandmama.’ Even in my adult age, I have come to live with that. It is settled.
I am twenty-five, single, average height and weight, average hair and eye colour, average facial characteristics, with underwhelming prospects in life. You should also know that I am shy, easily intimidated by men I think are better looking or more intelligent than me, particularly when they are well liked by girls. I am naïve and gullible. In the course of my life I have made elementary mistakes and I will confess to some stupid judgments too. This is a function not of my age but of who I am. A timid man.
It goes without saying therefore, my average appearance combined with the way people frequently look at me, most would regard me mildly interesting; some might even think downrightly boring; few will tell me in my face I’m paranoid schizophrenic. This too is settled. I don’t have time to fuss about shit.
My personality is a contrivance, a work of art improvised, self-revising, full of feints. My opinions decanted from a complex personality that partakes equally of passion and parody unable to draw a line between the hip and lit and that which is not.
When I was young and people asked me what I wanted to do when I grow up, I had a whole plan. I wanted to have travelled national routes across the length and breadth of the land before I turned 20. I wanted to speak fluent French at 20. I wanted to be secure on a path to my career even though I did not know what it would turn out to be. To get married by age 30, to finish having kids by age 36. Enjoy living on God’s earth. Get lazy and die.
This is the sum total of the account of my story. After you have read the, it will be up to you to assign to whatever description tickles your fancy. I’ll accept it gladly because you see everything is settled. This is my life.
Palesa
––––––––
To recharge her batteries from the topsy-Turvey life of Joburg, she decided she’d had enough. She flew to Durban and checked herself at Umhlanga Castle. Her phone has been on silent mode upon her arrival for two full days.
After sleeping it off for two days she feels energised to reconnect with her online community and declare herself in circulation again. On the morning of the third day, she checked emails, voice notes, Insta, WhatsApp and Facebook messages. Her mobile registered no voicemail but a ton of missed calls, most she recognised as from her contact list of friends The Tribe her followers.
The WhatsApp account had the most messages, she checked it the last after she finished her breakfast. One unknown number she did not immediately recognise because it was not in her contact list, had repeated missed calls.
She decides to leave this number for the last while making a mental note of the time of the calls were made. Her instincts tell her to first check who the owner is before deciding to returning the call out of courtesy.
After a long bath, she forwards this number to two closest friends asking them if they know the person associated with the number. She receives immediate feedback from Tumisho and Minkateko. Minks does not know the number but Tumi does. Tumi gives a more enthusiastic feedback with full details of the caller. In addition, she supplies happy emojis. Palesa feels excited and decides to call Tumi.
‘Girlfriend, are you serious?’
‘I am inundated with his calls. He has called me a few times asking if you lost your mobile or changed your number. I told him you had switched off because you did not want to be disturbed.
‘Cos, on your WhatsApp wall you were last seen like a while back.’
‘Well, he is going to call me again in the next while to check if I have connected with you again.’
‘Girl, I suggest you check your WhatsApp messages first and keep your mobile on.’
True, there was a voice note in her WhatsApp. It is 44 seconds long and threaded into two messages.
‘...I know what your surname is,’ as if telling her wouldn’t offend her.
‘I also know your email address, but I chose not to use both.’
She flinches taken aback by the brazenness of the caller’s voice.
‘I got your contacts from the radio work website.’
‘Just so you’re okay, I am not a stalker or anything. I am a friend and Tribesman.’
‘Minks can vouch for me but Tumi knows me best she will tell you more about me if you can ask her.’
The second thread details the whereabouts of this unidentified caller and asks for hook-up.
‘I am in Dubs on work assignment for a week or so.’
‘I’ll be working from this new cosy spot called Fairmont, it’s a newish hangout, uppity, great for meet-ups. Let me know if you are game as soon as you get this message.’
Although the voice does not immediately register as someone she has met before, she shows interest as slight as it maybe because her smile shows it. She ups the volume button and hit the ‘play’ button again for the second thread, but nothing registers immediately. She decides to pair her phone to Bluetooth speaker. OMG, its him, now I remember. What a gorgeous voice. Charming. She is interrupted by her phone ringing. She swipes to the right taking the call.
‘Hey’
‘Hey, howzit?’
‘Gud ‘n U? How did you know where to find me?’
‘I don’t know where you are right now and I wasn’t intending to find out. I just left messages hoping you will read them before you return home.’
‘How did you know I am in Dubs.’
‘So, you are telling me you’re in Dubs in fact even as we speak. I didn’t know this but now I do.’
‘Don’t lie to me, only two people know my movements and you are not one of them. Now, come clean before I drop this call and find a reason to report you for stalking me.’ Laughs on both sides.
‘Okay, okay. I’ll give you that. But before I confess anything, right, promise me you are going to believe what I am about to tell you and when I am done telling you I may have to dispose of you.’
‘Kill...’
‘No, no I did not use that word, I used a more intelligent one, ‘dispose’ and the meanings are different, okay. Because I am not supposed to tell you this, see. But if I must tell you, you are the only person who will know my secret. That’s why.’
Pali’s tone softens, she drops her guard allowing herself to be led wherever this conversation was supposed to take her.
‘Well, it depends on two things, whether what you are about to tell me is classified secret or not and I will be the judge of whether it is or not, right?’
‘I take that’s a yes. Right?
‘Dude, slow down. You are not going to screw with my head, are you?’
‘So, I am a fan, okay. I am The Tribesman, right. I have been following you since the first day we met. To be honest by following you my intent was so that I may know you closer than most Tribesmen do.’
‘I was sold the moment I first placed my eyes on you and the rest as they say, I can explain when we meet for that coffee at the Fairmont.’
‘That’s an old pick-up line it doesn’t work on me. You know that, right?’
‘You think this is a pick-up line? You’re wrong, I have already picked you many months ago.’
‘Okay, what’s your name...’
I can see that she has learned to keep her questions short and few. I wonder if I made sense at all. Was she even listening to me? I doubt if I raised enough interesting points in the conversation for her to bite unless of course she has nothing else to do?
‘If it is okay with you, can I send you the address and GPS co-ordinates. Please let me know soonest.’
It’s as if as if she has been waiting for my VN. She calls me right back.
‘Hi, you can send but I’m still thinking about it, okay?’
‘See you tonight!
‘Dude, I said I am still T.H.I.N. K. I. N. G about it.’ I can hear her giggling.
‘I am being proactive here. In any case, this is not an outright no, at least it holds a promise.’
‘Dude, you’re over reaching. slow down.’
‘Okay, okay my mouth is shut.’
The conversation is short and ends without any overt promises given. After the call, Palesa does not waste time thinking about the invitation. She is in Durban to have a good time. But before she accepts my invite, she wants to be certain if I want it as badly as she does. She justifies her thinking on