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| Henry |
After a good night’s sleep, Rab had the bit between her teeth and her
shopping list in hand. It was an eclectic list, from toothpaste and cough
mixture through underpants for me to gold earrings for her. The latter items
because they are cheaper here – the former because they are unobtainable in
Australia. The cough mixture in particular is a bit of an oddity – it is Wood’s
Peppermint Cure. The kind of medicament that our parents and grandparents might
have used – and in packaging they might even have recognised because it hasn’t
changed over the years. It is made in Indonesia now, of all places, but
presumably doesn’t meet the high requirements of the Australian equivalent of
the FDA. We’ve used it all our married lives and always stock up on it when we
can.
Our pal Lorna joined us and our first stop was at Lola and Rick’s place
to pick up the two cases of sparkling wine which will form the basic entrance
level for drinks at the party on Wednesday. Our intention was to drop the wine,
which we had pre-ordered from the vineyard Bovlei and which they had delivered
last week, at the restaurant for chilling. They claimed to open at 16h00 on
their answer machine, so the day was planned to end up there at about that
time. Alas! Like many aspects of life on the coast and in SAfrica, they were
working on African time, which often has nothing of the urgency of the Mexican
manana and there was no sign of them at 16h30 when we called in. They eventually
made a call to my brother Pad, who has organised the party. That came through
at about 18h00 apologising for the absence. Why they didn’t call me is a bit of
a mystery, but I called them and they swore by all that was holy they’d be
there tomorrow afternoon, so we’ll try again then, failing which…. Not warm
bubbly!! I guess we’ll have to distribute the bottles amongst friends to put in
their fridges and to bring to the party.
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| Ron and Kath Herbert with Kathleen Flemmer |
First port of call was to my sister in Kommetjie to drop off a couple of small gifts, notably an enlargement of a photo of our parents taken soon after they were married after Dad had joined up in 1941. None of us had seen this shot before a second cousin sent it through to Steve so it was a lovely surprise for her. Her fellow seems a nice enough cove and we hope they are going to be happy together. His house is on the hillside above the little village of Kommetjie with a wonderful view of the ocean and mountains. He was a surfer in his youth and now works as a journalist and publicity man for surfers and surfing events.
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| View across the bay from Kommetjie |
Next stop was the local mall, a favourite haunt in days gone by. It is
looking somewhat run down now and although alterations and renovations are
underway, several shops were empty, awaiting tenants. It had a feel of a place that might not recover from whatever
was ailing it now, although of course inevitably we were mentally comparing it
to the malls in Australia,
which by and large are very well maintained. We had a good lunch at the Mugg
& Bean where the standards are still high and where the iced coffee is
still simply the best.
I tried to send a package of books to our friend Maureen in Durban from
the local post office but the shamefaced young lady behind the counter said
they couldn’t do anything but sell stamps because the system was down with no
idea when it would be revived. I was able to buy stamps for the postcards
requested by the grandgirls – a giraffe for Carrie and lions for Steph. Only
problem was we couldn’t find a post box until a kindly passerby told us it was
out the front of the mall. I also tried to change some of the miscellaneous
currency notes I had brought – US dollars, pounds sterling and euros – only to
find that there are still complex rules in this regard with standards that are
all too much for me to deal with. The problems arose because I had no entry
stamp in my Australian passport as we entered the country on our South African
passports. I was therefore regarded as a resident rather than a tourist for the
regulatory purposes.
Rab had a good time with what Matt refers to as mammoth shopping. In his
mind’s eye he sees Rab (and his wife Dani) as two mammoths wandering through
the shops, picking up an item and examining it thoroughly only to drop it back
in its place and move on. They usually have no intention of actually buying
anything. The pleasure is in the looking. Rab has wandered over many kilometres
over the years in bazaars and malls and
markets with very few purchases to show for her dedication to shopping.
Having exhausted the riches of the mall – and having purchased many of
the items on the list – we moved on to Fish Hoek (literally Fish Corner) where
I lived when I was six or seven years of age. Dad was entitled to buy a house
as a Returned Serviceman in the scheme which was just starting to develop Fish
Hoek. We lived at 48 Second
Crescent and our house backed on to the bush and
white sand dunes that are a feature of this part of the world. Today the house,
still there, seems almost in the centre of the village. I wonder if there is
any genetic trace of the white rabbits which I kept and which escaped from
their pen, leading to an explosion of white rabbits in the bush for many years.
The main target this afternoon was AP Jones, a gentleperson’s
establishment catering to the rather elderly population of the village. It is a
prime spot for retirement and a survey would without doubt demonstrate an
average age in the 70s, I think, with the range spreading way beyond that. Unfortunately
their annual sale started on Janaury 29, so there was very little to scavenge
from the carcass of goods that were available then. The main target was a
Pringle shirt for me, but Alas! although they had size 2XL and 3XL, which the
salesman tried to insist was just my size, my dress advisor would not agree and
even I could see that the shirts hung off me like a carnival tent. There was
one Xl, but unfortunately colour and pattern were not acceptable.
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| Hard at work - slaving over a hot Weber |
And so we went on our way, and having missed Carla, we popped into
Woolworths to get some meat, wine and salad for the braai we planned for this
evening, picking up charcoal at the service station on the way – and not
forgetting the matches! Lorna spent the evening with us and I cooked some
delicious lamb chops and a bit of wors (sausage). We sat outside in the cool
evening breeze as the sun set – what more could anyone want? Good friends, a
nice bit of meat and a couple of glasses bottles of wine. No wonder we slept so well.
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| Lorna and Rab |
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