How to tell if you’re a true Ballito local

OK, so I’ve only been here about six months and I know many long-time-locals will be slightly off-put by my audacity in writing an article describing “when you know you’re a Ballito local”, but for the first time last week I nearly had an an aneurysm while waiting for a GP car to figure out how traffic circles work – and I think that’s a good first step.

So how do you know when you’re a true local of the beautiful Dolphin Coast?

Holiday season isn’t as fun for you as for the rest of South Africa

Holiday time is when the rest of the country descends on the coast – shops have more customers, accommodation is fully booked and restaurants do booming business; but in many ways it’s not all puppies and sunshine for locals.

Housewives stock up their pantries and freezers to the brim so they can avoid the shops as much as possible, because everyone knows the prices go up in December and who wants to fight with the ‘vallies’ (now lovingly known as Gauties) over the last bread roll anyway.

School holidays are a time when many locals decide on their own little getaway – as far from the beach as we possibly can! We literally head for the hills, migrating inland for a little relaxation among the mountains as far away from the tourist influx as we can get.

In fact, unless you have a reason to go there the beach tends to lose much of its appeal for people living alongside it year round (though the beauty of the seaside does tend to sneak up on you every so often and leave you gobsmacked that you don’t appreciate it more often!)

Locals are used to having the beach to themselves and do not care much for sharing it.

One of the main reasons that holiday season doesn’t ‘do it’ for us is because it means the imminent arrival of cars with GP number plates and drivers who look like they’ve never seen a corner in their lives.

I have yet to meet the local who doesn’t complain about holidaymakers clogging up traffic circles and either driving along over the white line because they’re terrified by narrow, winding coastal roads or – worse, trundling along at 40km/h like they are going on a Sunday drive every day of the week

Be honest – haven’t you ever found yourself just slightly suspicious of anyone sporting anything other than a good old NT number plate?

Almost worse than the cars is when they start walking around town in pasty bodies (soon to be lobster pink) that weren’t meant for so little clothing! But hey – you don’t know them, so they don’t really care (*shudders*).

The weather here isn’t the weather there, whether you like it or not

Those of us who have acclimatised to the hot and humid coastal conditions experience the weather a little differently from our fellow Safricans – as you’d know if you’ve ever seen the holidaymakers in their bikinis on the beach when the rest of us are locked indoors because it’s too cold!

Let’s just get this straight once and for all – a drop in temperature below 25 degrees is most definitely a chilly day!

And water falling from the sky? A clear sign from the weather gods that they want you to stay indoors, cancel all your plans, forget that you have friends and just wait it out.

The plakkies test

With this is mind, one of the best ways to tell if you’re a real local is to see if you have more pairs of slops, plakkies and sandals than items of warm clothing in your wardrobe – a test I doubt I’ll ever pass given my aversion to open-toed shoes.

Also, after the drought that ravaged KZN the levels of Hazelmere Dam seem to be tied directly into whether we have a good day or – if the dam has fallen – just another damn day…

It must be all the salt in the air

In fact, the salt in the air must have some strange effect on locals – because we’re different in many ways, for instance many Ballito residents drive around with either a roof rack or a bicycle rack on their vehicles: for that surfboard and bicycle that we’re definitely going to buy next month, or the month after that – this year for certain (what month is it again?)

Coming as I originally do from a small town in Limpopo, if you wanted to get somewhere – it took some getting to. Whereas for many who live along the Dolphin Coast driving to Durban – or anywhere further than 20km – seems unnecessary unless something life-changing is happening (like spending three days at Kingsmead waiting for the ground to dry out so you can watch some test cricket!)

Another thing unique to coastal yokels is the knowledge of how to remove – or protect anything from – rust. Whether it’s my car, my bike, my patio furniture or anything else – I guarantee you there are at least three different ways to de-rust something, often without spending a cent!

I’m still waiting for this one to kick and the symptoms to show – but I’m sure that soon enough I’m also going to start regaling people with stories that start: “You know – this all used to be sugar cane…”

The laid back attitude

One of the truest reflections of a laid back coastal attitude is that we’ve all come to know that anything social worth socialising over only gets planned the day-of, everyone shows up an hour late – and nobody cares.

Community vibes

You will know you are a local when you start to care. Unlike the in big city, you actually know your neighbours (or at least some of them) and if not physically then at least virtually, via a Whatsapp or Facebook group.

Dolphin Coasters love to rally behind causes and help people in trouble. Whenever there is a call to action on one of these groups, or through your community newspaper, you will never fail to see the locals reach deep into their pockets and come to the aid of their neighbours.

And of course – the final and best way to tell you’re a local is when your petrol attendant or greengrocer’s name is Rasta!