TO TOWN : CHIP HUNTING March 13/14

Those Florentines are delicious

I woke a little peckish after the small meal last night and have to confess to having a couple of the delicious Florentine Biscuits Lola supplies in the guest rooms. They are so very good to eat, but virtually every ingredient is on a diet ‘no-no’ list.

Rab had a plan for today – to go into the City to see what changes there have been in the past years; to see if we could find a buyer for my Mont Blanc pen and to see if she could track down a pair of shoes she had seen and admired on Lorna’s daughter’s feet. I had intended giving the pen to Steve for his 65 birthday last year together with my MB roller ball pen and my MB highlighter and the bottle of MB ink, so he would be set up – he had mentioned in the past that he would like to have a Mont Blanc since both of his brothers had them. I even had the pen refurbished as the ink cylinder had deteriorated over the years.  I could not get it to him though as sending an item that valuable – the total value being well over A$1,000 – through the post being a bit dodgy to say the least. Unfortunately my gift was pre-empted when his wife’s family all chipped in and bought him a Mont Blanc after he had completed the research into their family and had published a book about it. So I gave him the ‘minor’ items and we thought we might be able to sell the pen and get some contribution to our holiday fund. Enquiring at a pen shop we found the retail price was about R8,500 for this model and the suggestion that an antique dealer in town might give us a good deal. We would then hunt down the shoes – and perhaps pay for them with part of the proceeds?

The razor wire is a later addition

But first I had to get my swim in. Another beautiful day with the sun shining brightly, although ominously for me the forecast was for temperatures in the 30s again. I had a look at our old house which has certainly been maintained in good condition. They’ve removed the huge bougainvillea hedge and replaced that with security fencing which may be more effective (although working your way through a bougainvillea four feet thick and nine feet high is pretty difficult to do!) but is certainly not so attractive. Gone too is the magnificent fig tree in the back yard which fed me and many birds every year about this time. We had an agreement, the birds and I. They could have all the figs at the top of the tree which I couldn’t reach and I wouldn’t chase them, provided they left me the ones I could reach. Worked like a charm every year. The beautiful Zimbabwe creeper we had grown over the back veranda was also gone, replaced by a utilitarian blind. We had many a party under the  shade of that creeper so it was sad to see that gone too. My leadlight  windows were all still in place though so at least those seem to have been appreciated.

On my way back I took a couple of shots of road and other warning signs, at least one of which you don’t see in other countries. The one “Riders” amused me. It is in an area where many people go to ride their horses, but why the horse with no rider then? Is the sign to warn us about runaway horses that have thrown their riders? Apparently not because it specifically says “Riders” – so maybe we are being warned to look out for riders who have been thrown. Lying on the side of the road perhaps or staggering across it? 

 

The multiple negatives on the signs from St James are also a cause for some reflection since they are slightly different in what they are banning in the same area – and why does St James beach apparently ban both cocktails and wine drinking with their two liquor signs? Given the high gun ownership in SAfrica, the fine differentiation between banning automatics on the walkway and revolvers on the beach leads me to wonder if rifles are ok in this area, since they are specifically banned on Hout Bay beach, although there is no mention there of handguns. Very confusing for us law abiding citizens.

A great breakfast with Lola’s guests – we always say she provides a five star meal and service for a three star price in their lovely old dining room with the doors wide open to her beautiful garden. What a way to start the day – and then we were off again on our travels, just behind the morning rush hour.

Outlook from breakfast room at The Stables

It was interesting to see how the road system has been improved – one of the side effects of hosting the Soccer World Cup – and how much building there has been higher up the mountain slopes. (This is something we saw all around the Peninsula. I guess it is inevitable since (a) there is not so much flat land and (b) people like views, but it is hardly surprising that there is pressure on the poor baboons who come wandering into and through houses in search of the easy pickings in our kitchens. They make an awful mess and although they are protected species, many are shot out of hand and quietly buried. Many people support this attitude. Efforts are made to keep them out of urban areas with baboon guards who walk with the troops during the day guiding them out of trouble, but funding is difficult to find for this worthwhile cause. 

Eric and his troop

We took our son Matt and his wife Dani on a Baboon Walk  when they visited us when we were living here. It is an amazing experience to meet a troop of these beautiful creatures and walk among them. I am not sure if the tourist venture ever got off the ground fully – no doubt they would have had significant problems in getting liability insurance!

The city had not changed too much. I thought it a little cleaner, Rab thought it a bit more run down. That probably reflects our divergent attitudes to Africa. I still miss it, while enjoying my life in Australia; Rab simply prefers Australia. We duly found a parking place in Long Street where the antique arcade was said to be located and paid the parking guard the requisite fee of R5 (60 cents) for the half hour parking. These guards are essential because the City of Cape Town introduced a meter system that requires motorists to have a pre-paid device with which to pay for parking. This to stop the meters being robbed on a regular basis. Of course visitors to Cape Town and even residents who do not visit the city often do not want to spend R60 on a pre-loaded card when they are only parked for an hour or so. So step in the guards, who (allegedly) buy the cards and then on-sell the time to people like us. The system seems to  work quite well, although it is not too hard to think of flaws that might favour the income of the guard over the City.

Pedestrian Mall off Long Street

The arcade was full of interesting shops with many items that were quite fascinating and we were directed to the man who bought pens – but not my pen. He wouldn’t make an offer, but it became clear from our (brief) exchange that he was thinking of a figure of about R500 (A$60) a quarter of what the refurbishment of the pen had cost me and a fraction of the cost of a new pen. We bade him good day and went and had a cold drink at a nearby café as the heat was building and I was feeling a bit crook.

On we went in pursuit of the shoes however and our memories of the road system returned so that we found our way to the shop quite easily. It was one of the simplest Rab’s Hunts of all times. The shop had the shoes in stock; the shoes were the right size; there was a wide selection; the price was right. There was no need and no excuse to look further or to leave the shop saying we’d be back after we’d thought about it. The deed was done and so was I, but the shopping wasn’t. As we drove home, Table Mountain had an excellent Table Cloth – this occurs when a south-easter creates a layer of cloud on top of the mountain. It means that visitors can’t go up the mountain as the cable car service is suspended, but it looks pretty.

Table Mountain with table cloth

Fortunately, we headed for The Stables and had a light lunch with Lola and Rick as we were going out to dinner that night. I had a shower to cool me down and a good sleep. I seem to collapse pretty suddenly in this heat – not completely physically all fall down, but just suddenly weary and tired in limb, longing for somewhere to lie down. Perhaps all those inhabitants of tropical and hot countries have the same problem which is why one sees them lying in any piece of shade at all times of the day?

Refreshed by my snooze we went off to pick up Lorna White since she and sister Liz had offered to shout us a meal in exchange for the braai a couple of nights back. On the way to see her, we popped in to see the widow of an old colleague who now lives on the same floor of the block of units where Lorna lives. She gave us a very warm welcome, but we couldn’t stay too long as we had to pick up Liz. I know we all have different ideas of establishing routes when we drive, but I have to say (here where Lorna cannot give me a clip over the ear) that the way she directed me was one that was about the most complex anyone could have chosen. I went my own route when we took Liz home and reckon I got there in half the time!! We went to a restaurant that used to be owned by Dr Christiaan Barnard the renowned heart surgeon who did the world’s first heart transplant. Of course he has been long gone and the restaurant has changed hands since then, but the quality of food has been maintained. I had a wonderful grilled sole – I had forgotten just how good they can be here, caught in the cold waters of the West Coast – while the others had equally good food. It was another lovely evening with old friends. Liz has a number of health problems and we wonder at times if we will see her again; Lorna, although the older sister seems to just go in forever.

CHIP HUNTING Wednesday March 14

OMG, the new Hunt started today. Barbecue kettles having been dismissed, shoes and other sundry purchases having been made, a new target was required and it was packing materials for the animal menagerie to make their voyage home safe.

Actually on reflection, the Hunt didn’t start today, it started yesterday afternoon after my nap and before we went out that night as I scoured the Internet for  packaging materials. What we had in mind was polystyrene chips or beads to pack around the beasts. Or perhaps foam chips. Lorna Rayment said she had seen these for sale, but couldn’t remember where, but assured us they were easy to find. So we started off by going to PostNet a local courier like FedEx – no dice. Try the Post Office – not us. And so it went all visits came up with nothing. That was when we hit the Net. Very little dice there either, but we  finally found a place – 30 km from The Stables – where they said they would sell us polystyrene beads.

Beach boxes at St James

But before we set off to collect our beads, I had my daily dip down at St James. Another crisp day  and warm water – up to 21.5°C. sitting in the sun, soaking in the views, the ambiance. Then back to The Stables for another tasty breakfast – I was persuaded to have a little smoked salmon with my scrambled egg, having had a serving of fruit salad. We really are back to our Australian fruit bat habits of eating pretty substantial quantities of fruit every day.

Lorna duly turned up and we were off on our quest. Never averse to telling me where I was going wrong from the time we worked together more than forty years ago, she was now quite happy to tell me that the route I had chosen to the factory was the wrong one.  Although she accepted it was a more direct route than she was suggesting, she warned me that it was very dangerous; that cars had been stoned there. Under  cross-examination, it became clear that the alleged stonings had occurred some years earlier and late at night. I pointed out that we’d be there in full daylight and considered that to be safe – if only because we would see the stones coming at us. We saw no stoners with stones although there was evidence of stoners in some of the areas we passed through since the graffiti could only have been done by someone as high as a kite.

Guided by the faithful iPad we reached our destination to find it the most safety conscious and bureaucratic organization ever seen. For starters we had to reverse the cars down the narrow drive and into a vacant bay – this made evacuation quicker said the gate guard  politely when I queried his order. Getting in the office door required a vetting by mirror from the pleasant lady behind the reception desk to whom Rab had spoken, who directed me to step across the three foot walkway to the other counter to place my order. The clerk there telephoned her to ensure that I was a genuine customer – at least I think that was why he did so – and then offered me an order of very small very light polystyrene pellets. I asked him if that was all he had to offer because I was concerned about the way these very light items blow about and are impossible to control. He said that was all they sold and solemnly and at great length made up the order which he then took to the receptionist, indicating that I should pay her.

I took the two steps across the walkway to her desk and having ascertained the cost – not disclosed to me by the clerk – I offered her the cash. No cash accepted: only credit cards. So…laboriously entering data into her credit card machine which took ages to go through, I finally had a receipt which I stepped across the walkway to give to the clerk. He studied this closely and called the factory to get my order. While I waited, Rab came through the security at the door – she and Lorna were cooking in the car despite being parked in the shade as the temperature soared. I think she may have believed it was my incompetence or garrulousness which was holding up the works.

While I was waiting for the order to be delivered, the receptionist who had clearly heard the interchange between me and the clerk and who had spoken to Rab and who knew what we wanted the packing for asked why I was taking the pellets, which were so small and light. She thought that the chips would be a better buy. Biting my tongue I said I thought the pellets were all that was available. “Oh, no!  The chips could be purchased as well, but they were the equivalent of A$4.25 more expensive.” JMJ!!

So back we went through the security dance of cancelling everything and starting again to Rab’s chagrin. The factory hand finally delivered a plastic bag of chips which were just what we wanted in  size but not in quantity. I offered to pay full price for half the bag, but no! I had to take it all. It barely fitted into the car boot. 

Thank goodness for air-conditioning. As we drove off, I felt quite bad, but within a few kilometers with the aircon on full blast and lowest temperature setting I started to feel somewhat human again. BUT…..this feeling of well being slipped a little as I realized that in the time I had been away, Rab and Lorna had decided that since we were so far over this side of the city we should go to Canal Walk (or Anal Walk as I thought of it). It is  a massive shopping complex jammed full of goods that, whilst ideal for mammoth shopping, were not likely to be purchased.  Lorna had not done much shopping with Rab, at least shopping of this type, and at the end of the day felt she might not ever do it again. She also said she couldn’t understand how anyone with bad knees could keep up that pace.

I actually did OK in the end because I got a pair of swimming trunks to replace my old ones which had given up the ghost after about 20 years and there were plenty of benches in the air-conditioned mall with some WiFi accessible. So I hunkered down and read my  mail on my iPad, had a look at the Australian papers, arranged my pictures etc quite happily while Rab dragged a reluctant Lorna into all manner of shops. 

Lunch with Lorna

We met back at the Mugg and Bean as agreed and had a very pleasant lunch. The quality of food in SAfrica has improved markedly, I think (Rab’s not so sure) and, apart from Mugg and Bean, most servings are still a reasonable size and are not approaching the gargantuan servings  we get in the USA and in parts of Australia.

Back to The Stables for a cooling shower and a rest – and then on to brother Pad for an evening meal – just the three brothers and wives. Pad is an excellent cook, specializing in vegetarian and seafood so we knew that we were in for a good meal. His calamari in a chili tomato sauce was excellent. It was a quiet night in the end as I think we were all a bit tired – and of course Pad and Ronel, being the only workers amongst us, had to work the next day. Lorna had donated a bottle of wine from the Herbert vineyard in Portland, Australia, which she had bought on her trip here, but we didn’t drink that, leaving it for our next dinner when we thought it would be more suitable.

And so to bed.

LAST BRAAI: THE STABLES March 11/12 2012

Golden web  spider at home

I couldn’t go for a walk or a swim today. 35,000 cyclists were taking part in one of the largest cycling events in the world around the Peninsula and all roads to Kalk Bay were sealed off until after noon. The race is a challenging one over undulating countryside with some steep mountain climbs and is a little over 100 kilometres. First riders are away from the city centre at 06h30 and we heard the helicopter filming the overhead shots shortly after that as the route brings the cyclists down the freeway which is not far from the cottage. One of the natural hazards the riders often have to face is very stiff winds, but today it was still, but very hot – about 35°C (95°F) – and more than one hundred cyclists were hospitalised as a result. Madness I reckon.

Virtually trapped in the cottage, with only a golden web spider (and Rab) for company, I spent the morning catching up this blog, having fallen some days behind, swimming and relaxing as the temperature rose. There was no air-conditioning – just a ceiling fan, so I was not too comfortable. My heart problems and the associated medications mean, as my cardiologist says, that my internal thermostat does not work  too well. As the heat goes up I become enervated – I feel like those bunnies in the  Duracell advertisement as they gradually run out of power. I seem to sweat less too, so that a cooling breeze or a fan merely means circulating warm air over me, not allowing the cooling factor of condensation.

I had to venture out into the sweltering day after twelve when the roads were open again to get some rolls for the braai this evening – sadly the last here at the cottage as we are moving out tomorrow. I also had to  collect, hopefully, the beaded figures from Terence. There were no kornspitz rolls – our favourites – as the flour hadn’t arrived, so it was said. Terence was as good as his word however and we now have two reindeer and two matching angels to give the grandgirls for their Christmas tree.

Sue

Sue and Mike came around at fourish and we settled down to a good chat and an even better meal. It was kassler and wors again after the success of Friday’s meal and we had a good selection of wine from our foray into the country with Sue and Mike earlier in the week. A quite three bottle evening and early to bed after another swim.

A nice restful day, thanks to the riders.

 

MOVING TO THE STABLES Monday March 12

We moved today from the cottage to The Stables, the lovely B ‘n’ B run by our old friends Lola and Rick Bartlett  but before I started packing for the move I got my morning swim in.

As I drove off soon after 06h30 I passed dozens of smartly dressed women and men walking down the roads in the area. They had all got off the bus that stopped at the end of Strawberry Lane and were walking to the houses where they worked as housekeepers and gardeners. It often takes an hour or more to get from the areas where most of them live, so it makes for a long day for them. It is always a bit of a shock for us to realize that most of our contemporaries still have servants. It is many years since we had home-help!

Guinea making a run

As I headed down towards Muizenberg and Kalk Bay, I spotted a flock of guinea fowl feeding on the side of the road.  It is not unusual to spot these birds and I wonder how they survive in suburban areas where there is still so much poverty. Surely they would provide a reasonable meal for someone who may otherwise scavenge food from the trash cans of restaurants? Yet these people and the birds survive side by side. Maybe they are more difficult to catch than I might imagine.

Roadside vendors abound down here. They seem to have stopped selling plastic hangars – well we haven’t seen those in evidence – but black plastic rubbish bags are common lines, as are all manner of small craft items and licence disc holders, but also larger items – bean bag seats, cane furniture and so on. You can even get a new silencer fitted right there. I think the prize for the most unusual item is grass – not to smoke, but to lay down in the garden or yard. There is one spot where rolls of turf are readily available. The fact that the site is very close to a golf course always gets me wondering where the supplies come from – and another stray thought is – how do the purchasers move a reasonable quantity – it isn’t lightweight material.

Early morning at Dalebrook

The water was delightful as the tide was coming in and breaking over the pool wall sending up walls of spray. I managed to get one half decent shot of a couple of little brothers enjoying the game of balancing as the waves swept in.

Back to the cottage and we cleared the fridge of all the contents, finishing the fruit and sundry bits of sausage and chops on the “waste not, want not” principle. Then it was down to packing. Rab had packed most of her case while I was away, but it is incredible how much we seem to have accumulated in ‘extras’. Of course we weren’t packing as carefully as we will have to next week, but we landed up with a great number of packages as well as the two suitcases and the animals’ travelling box. The weather was hotting up with a forecast of over 33°C. The work of shifting all the goods got me sweating a bit more than usual so at least I felt a bit cooler in the gentle breeze.

Paying for our stay presented a bit of a problem initially as Judy, our hostess does not accept credit cards and of course we don’t carry large amounts of cash with us in foreign parts. The cost for the ten days we were there was R8,000 (A$1,000 or A$100 a day) which we felt was pretty reasonable, although many of our friends thought we were being somewhat extravagant.  The normal procedure would have meant using a bank transfer but those vultures charge so much for the service that I was reluctant to spend the best part of another day’s rent just to pay for what we had. It was far from clear if PayPal was yet operating in SAfrica which still has very complex foreign exchange regulations. My brother Steve said he thought that there was only one bank which offered the facility, but, as it  turned out, he was not correct. I tried sending A$100 through as a test and Judy received that, so I then sent her the balance. All done in a flash and at no charge. When will the banks get the message? I guess when more people use PayPal more often.

The Stables

Unloading the luggage at The Stables used less effort as Oscar the gardener was on duty and carried the heavier items. He is from Malawi and smiled when I greeted him in his own language – which is about the limit of my knowledge. The pool, which is just outside the door of our room beckoned after we had unpacked and I thought I could have a quick dip before heading back to Kalk Bay for lunch with my brothers. What a shock to the system to find that the water was warmer than I’d run a bath. Rick has  solar heating which he does not turn off even in summer as, it is said, his guests who are mainly British like the warm water. OMG! Not for me. I quickly had a cool shower which was much more refreshing.

Off to Live Bait, one of the eateries in the Kalk Bay Harbour. I was amazed at how much traffic there was and how many cars were parked in the somewhat limited space available when I got there at a little after 12h30. the car guards were stacking the vehicles very tightly and I got a good spot, but was a little late in the end – about seven minutes in all. It says something for my reputation for promptness that the brothers thought something must have happened to me and even called Rab.

View of False Bay from our table

Overlooking the harbour - our house was  above the corner of the building

The restaurants around the harbour have spectacular views and an excellent reputation. On most days you can see the fish that will be served in the restaurants being landed from the fishing boats and that is part of the attraction. People milled around, some of them buying the fresh fish for their own kitchens, others just to see the sights. The seas had calmed down a little so we could have the windows open (at least until someone complained!) and it was very relaxing sitting there with the gentle wash of the waves on the rocks below. The purpose of the meeting was for the boys to get a full briefing on my current health status away from the womenfolk so that we could speak frankly. I always try to spell it out as clearly as I can, but some of the complexities can, at times, create a reaction that I have seen when Steve gets onto his genealogy subject. A somewhat glazed look would probably be the best description.  I had a very good salad as did Steve; I think we both envied Pad his excellent looking fish and chips which was certainly better looking and better value than Doyle’s in Sydney.

Back to The Stables for another shower – it really was a hot day – and a snooze. I’ve found that since my reference to heat being enervating doesn’t always ring a bell, I now use the analogy of the Duracell Bunny. My energy just drains away, leaving me feeling pretty lousy. The hotter it gets the quicker the process.

Fortunately I had enough energy incorporated from my nap to get into the bar where Rick offers drinks to his guests and where most of them gather in a wonderful atmosphere for  a chat before they go about their business for the evening. It is a good way of meeting the other guests and although the session is usually for about an hour, there have been times when that has been extended somewhat, especially when guests have brought in some of the wine they may have purchased when touring the vineyards. This was not one of those sessions however, so they dispersed in an orderly fashion, leaving us chatting with Lo and Rick about the almost half century that Rab has known them – I only met them 45 years ago, so I’m very much a Johnnie Come Lately.

I had assumed we would be going out for a meal and was somewhat taken aback by Rab saying that since I had lunch (she went out to lunch with Lola and Lorna and had a more substantial meal than I) and a good deal of biltong in the bar, we could make do on the scraps we had salvaged from the cottage. No point in arguing, so I fell in with her requirements and fell into bed to sleep soundly.

NOT HOUT BAY March 10 2012

Another glorious day when I peeked through the curtains at about 06h00 as Rab stirred and started to wake. March is usually the best month to be in Cape Town. It is usually warm without being too hot and although there is always a bit of wind about it is more likely to be a breeze than the rip-snorting gales of January and February. The rain usually holds off until mid-April.

Looking back towards Muizenberg

Fynbos bloom

Off I went to get to the trail at 07h00 – an agreed time if Steve or Pad were walking with me. I wasn’t too sure that I’d see them on the mountain, although they might be down at the pool. Friday nights by long tradition tend to be long ones with friends, a feed and a bottle or two of wine – sometimes a little more, which makes waking and walking early a less attractive option than on other mornings. I was walking and pacing myself better than I have been so I made it to the corner of the path above our old house. The last 500 or so metres to get there is fairly flat and then the trail rises again, so I was happy to call it a day for the moment and head back downhill.  I was about half way back when a voice behind me called out “What are you doing here?” and there was brother Steve,

Steve on his way

in a bit of a lather having hiked up the steep steps from above his house to what would be the end of the track if I had kept on. He declined my offer of a lift on the grounds that he needed the exercise but said we’d meet down at the pool. He was soon lost to sight as he strode on at a pace I could not keep up.

As I drove up to the pool I saw a distinctive silhouette of a man standing on the pool wall and recognised brother Pad. Sure enough he was there, as was Judy, Steve’s wife and one of her pals I hadn’t seen for a while. Steve turned up in due course and we had a wonderful swim in water that was just above 20°C according to Steve’s thermometer. He takes the temperature every day! It was this kind of serendipitous meeting that I had enjoyed so much when we lived here and made a wonderful start to the day.

Kornspitz roll and fruit

As I drove back to the cottage for breakfast I thought it would be a nice day to get across to Hout Bay, perhaps via Chapman’s Peak, a most spectacular drive, especially on a good day. But it was not to be: Man proposes, the wife disposes and, it became apparent that there were shops to visit.

First stop was to pick up Lorna and head off to what used to be Fruit and Vegetable City, but which has expanded considerably now. There was masses of good looking fruit and an enormous delicatessen section with many local delicacies and some imported ones – the  cheeses were particularly impressive. And of course the Biltong section occupied a good deal of the available space. We had an excellent ice cream and Lorna completed her purchases for the dinner tonight, to which we have been invited.

Nothing like a bit of biltong (jerky to US folk)

Could we head off to Hout Bay now? Well, no. Rab had run out of reading material and Lorna knew where there was a cheap book outlet. Just what we need – more books. Mind you this isn’t the first time this has happened. We try to bring books that we probably will not read a second time so we can abandon them along the way – or release Them To The Wild as one website has it. But…we sometimes find the books are worth keeping after all, sometimes they are replaced by local books. Whatever happens we usually take back more than we brought. It was a terrific place I must say, with an incredible selection of very cheap books. I declined to even look at them as I have four in hand and about twenty to read at home – and I am chief baggage handler, so every book bought would add to my load. Rab got four or five, but looking at them they don’t seem too promising, so hopefully they will be abandoned.

So! Off to Hout Bay now? Well no exactly, the thought of buying a Weber Kettle here and taking it back to Australia had taken root in Rab’s mind overnight and we were now on a Hunt. These Hunts are a feature of our travels. They usually relate to items that are unlikely to be found in any shop in the country in which we are at the time, but they are a fine reason for visiting every shop in the country for some mammoth shopping. By now it was heating up – over 30°C (85°F) and over my comfort limit. But that was no excuse and off I went at the first available hardware shop. They did have Weber Kettles and with weight of 14 kilos we might just be able to take it within our baggage allowance. BUT…..was it possible to find a cheaper Weber? And what would a Weber cost in Australia? To cut a long story short, we DID find a cheaper Weber, after several visits to several shops over the next few days and we DID Google Webers in Australia and (no surprise to me) they were cheaper in Australia. Thank goodness for that says the Baggage Master.

Even my two passengers agreed that it was so hot that they were thirsty, so off to Constantia Centre and the Mugg and Bean for their excellent iced coffee so we could pick up the angels and reindeer from Terence. Alas! Terence was puzzled – he’d never heard of the order. What about Bright – his brother – where was he? Well, the term ‘brother’ has many meanings in the African society and extends way beyond the sibling relationship we normally think of. Clearly Bright might have been a brother but he wasn’t a sibling. Terence said his phone was out of funds, could he borrow mine? A long talk in Chishona, Terence’s language, followed at the end of which Terence apologised and said it would all be ready tomorrow.

Too late now for  a trip to Hout Bay we went back to the cottage and I collapsed on the bed  for a good snooze. That heat was getting to me.

We had been invited to Lorna’s daughter Kim’s house for a meal in the evening with her and her husband Johann. There was a certain vagueness about the time since times of three, four and five had been mentioned. We chose four o’clock as the mid point and went over there. Only to find that Lorna’s granddaughter Dominique had put her hand through a pane of glass gashing her hand badly. Her father didn’t seem too concerned as he watered the garden. We sat in what little shade there was while the dogs came to investigate us. The family have recently acquired two bitsers that would do pretty well in any ugly dog competition. It was really quite a weird afternoon and evening in many ways – some might call it surreal in the current vogue for inappropriate words.

After finishing the watering Johann went inside to join another guest, who we had not met watch a game of rugby on television. Some time later Lorna’s ex-husband appeared from the house asking why we hadn’t greeted him (Answer: Because we didn’t know you were there!) Johann’s friend came out at half time and introduced himself to us, chatted briefly and then disappeared inside for more rugby. The family duly returned, Dominique with eighteen stitches and the evening got under way.

The new pups at Kim's House

The meal consisted of mussel soup and two prawn dishes based on Thai recipes. I found the soup a little strong in flavour, but the prawns were excellent. There is a bit of a fuss in Australia at present about prawns being imported from Eastern countries – mainly Vietnam and China – because of the suspicion that their  standards of cleanliness might be somewhat different from those set out in our regulations. No such concerns here in SAfrica, where the fish are grown in India – an even more suspect site than Vietnam. None of us came to any harm however.

It was hot in the house and we made our exit soon after the meal and headed for a cooling swim and bed.

HERDING THE ANIMALS: ANOTHER DAY ANOTHER BRAAI March 8/9

A visitor

It must have been good quality wine last evening because we both woke from an excellent sleep with clear heads to the brightness of another glorious day. Bit of wind to keep us cool, plenty of sun to warm us – and not a cloud in sight.

Sunrise over the Hottentot's Holland mountains and Cape Flats

 I had said to my brothers last night that I had a short walk and that I was going again today and both turned up at the foot of the path – well, Steve did and Pad caught up with us a few minutes later – not too difficult as my pace is similar to that of the donkeys that used to lumber up and down this track before the roads were built with their loads for Hout Bay (Wood Bay) on the other side of the mountains.

It was good walking with the brothers and we caught up on all manner of news until I ran out of puff. I urged them onwards, but they turned with me and we made our way back down the hill. Pad had to go to work, but Steve came down with me to Dalebrook Pool for a wonderfully invigorating swim. We were lucky that we had gone down early because the team was there to drain the pool, clean it and whitewash the walls, something they do at low tide every month or two. Should be OK for tomorrow, with two high tides to fill it before I get there.

There were a couple of people I knew down there, including a woman with her old dog, a dog that had been a pup when we first met them. Now old, grey and a lot better behaved, she greeted me, but I don’t think she remembered who I was. That was not the case with Sue and Mike’s giant black poodle Coke. Showing his advanced age of about thirteen years, nevertheless he walked painfully towards me and nuzzled me the way he had always done. Lorna’s bull terrier Jobe, who gives Coke a couple of years, nearly wagged his tail off and couldn’t stop grinning at us when we visited her later in the day. We miss our boys but feel sure they will be having a good time with their new pals at Mornington Lodge.

Good coffee, good fruit and a bit of rye bread toasted made a good breakfast and then we were off to get the goods for tonight’s braai – Sheelah and Trevor came around. We told them it would be what we would call a sausage sizzle in Australia. Nothing fancy, just boerewors and wine – Sheelah provided the salad. It was another lovely evening – we are so lucky with the weather and our situation here where we can get a couple of pals on our own to catch up on their news, something that is difficult to do if there is a crowd. Sadly three bottles of wine succumbed – Sheelah doesn’t drink, otherwise no doubt there would have been four.

But before we got to the braai, we went animal herding.

We had gone up to the Constantia Centre to get the goods for tonight and on the way into the parking lot we saw that the Zimbabwean beadworkers had expanded the considerable stock of work to include all manner of animals and flowers and other brightly coloured work. Rab had spotted a good looking giraffe and I liked the look of the sheep. These Zimbabwean artists are amazing people. They gained their reputation in Zimbabwe with beautiful wood and stone carvings, some of which we still have. Having left Zimbabwe and their access to the raw materials they had used, they started making small animals, fish etc in wire and beads. These small, and sometimes crude, artefacts have morphed into much larger works with more detail – some of the sheep are life size!

Chook and fruit

After we had done our shopping we strolled over to see what they had. To cut a long story short, Rab saw some metal worked bush pigs or warthogs. She has always been fond of them because they remind her of her schnauzers with their stance and whiskers. It is always amusing to see a warthog family running through the bush – their tails are straight up in the air, like so many vehicle aerials. I on the other hand thought the sheep were excellent. The beads are worked in such a way that there is a texture to the fleece, while the faces of the animals are smooth, as they are in the real thing. After some  fierce bargaining we got the pair for R600 – A$36 each; which left the chicken to deal with. The maker, Terence, had offered us this rooster as we came up to the selling area. He was still working on it and as he said, it was fresh from the oven. There were other chickens and roosters, but Rab liked the colouring of this one, so we said we’d come back and fetch it later, provided he gave us a good price. He was a better bargainer than his brothers in the end, so the chook duly joined the other two animals. Now all I have to do is find a way to get them home – they are each about the size of Barnaby – or his size when we left. He may have grown by now.

Sal the Sheep and Wally Warthog get acquainted

Then off to Lorna to get some laundry done and to have a bite to eat. The kornspitz rolls are as nice as they ever were as is the local cheese, so it was plain  cheese rolls and chat for lunch before we headed over the Steenberg via the Ou Kaapse Weg to cousin Sal for afternoon tea. We wanted to see them before they left on the next of their multiple trips planned for this year. This one will take them to Ireland, France and Italy before they return home at Easter. They travel even more than we do and we were fortunate to be in town at the same time as they were. More talk, more laughter, more to eat. Difficult to maintain my sylphlike figure at the moment.

 ANOTHER DAY ANOTHER BRAAI Friday March 9

There were clouds about this morning when I stuck my head out of the window – could we be getting rain, in the Cape, in March? Although I doubted it, the cloud cover and the wind direction would have made the rock pools a chilly place to be, so I settled for a dip in the cottage pool instead after a longer lie in and a bit of the cold wors left over from last night on toast with more delicious fruit – a salad of melon, raspberry, banana and fig – those figs!!! As the day progressed it turned into another good one and the brothers in Kalk Bay told me that it was sunny and warm down there first thing so I missed out on my morning swim in the sea.

Nothing like a kassler on a braai

Lorna W and her sister Liz K are coming around for a meal tonight. I’m happy to have another braai and although the original plan was to meet at a restaurant, we both prefer the informality of a meal at ‘home’.  Talking about food last night, Sheelah mentioned that the German butcher a couple of suburbs away was still going strong, so we headed his way and selected some good looking kassler ribs and bratwurst for tonight – and for the braai on Sunday night. We also started looking around for suitable container(s) for the animals. It isn’t the first time I’ve had to get some odd purchase home and have become quite skilled at finding solutions. After measuring them up individually and in various combinations, we found a suitable plastic storage box which holds all three snugly. We’ll pack our dirty washing around them to prevent any untoward movement and as the box isn’t heavy, although it is a bit bulky, it shouldn’t be a problem to get them home and into the garden to graze.

We also found a Christmas set of beaded reindeer and angels in one of the drawers of the chest of drawers here and thought that would make a nice gift for the girls so I popped up to see Terence, who was off duty today but I spoke to his brother Bright. No worries he said – or at least the local equivalent of that phrase – come by tomorrow and pick them up. Amazing turn around time. We couldn’t agree a price without his brother being there, so no doubt there will be a bit of haggling tomorrow.

The suburb where these lads operate and where the shopping centre is located is Constantia and it is one of the ‘best’ locations in the Western Cape with only Clifton on the eastern side of the city and Bishopscourt contenders for the top spot. It is often referred to as a mink and manure suburb because even though it is only about 15 minutes to the centre of Cape Town city, the properties are large enough to maintain  stables and many is the time that the traffic is held up for the ladies of the manor to cross the road on their morning ride. The shopping centre is therefore a tremendous spot to sit and watch the passing parade – women in high fashion – knee length boots for heaven’s sake in mid-summer with the skin tight designer jeans on their broomstick frames. Many look pretty anorexic to me, although at the other end of the scale there are some enormous women with their muffin tops spilling over their jeans, which are also skin tight but which resemble the rear end of en elephant in jeans when seen from behind. All drive big and new vehicles. Huge four wheel drive SUVs abound but there are probably more slinky Mercedes and the rather down market BMWs around. Not as many fancy imports as you might see in equivalent parts of Melbourne, - I haven’t yet seen a Ferrari although a rather nice Maserati flashed past us today.

One of the features of SAfrican life is the presence of car guards wherever cars are parked in numbers. The prevalence of crime is the main reason for their being there because they keep an eye out for any potential thieves. But they also help people park and  guide them to empty spaces or hold the traffic for people to reverse out of the parking places. They also help to defuse any potential incidents of ‘parking rage’ by being scrupulously fair in allocating places if there is any possibility of a dispute arising. They work on a ‘tip only’ basis paying some organisation for the hire of their reflective vests and the right to work a shift. There is a good deal of speculation as to how much they make. According to one recent article an average tip at Constantia (which may be higher than most locations) is R5, which is the largest coin in the current range of currency. That would be about  A$0.65c. That doesn’t seem much, but then there is a good deal of traffic and each guard has about 30 – 40 spaces to police. If the average stay at the centre is 45 minutes, as suggested, then in an 8 hour day the man could earn (gross) about R2,000 (A$250) a day – not a bad figure in a country where the average annual wage is about R24,000 (A$3,000).

Liz and Lorna duly turned up and we had a fine old evening with them. They are both VERY outspoken widows, with VERY strong views on many a subject, most of which tend to clash with our (and especially my) views. They enjoy a good argument, so we had plenty – all in the highest spirits and with many a laugh. I am still adjusting my cooking skills to the Namibian charcoal made from the kameeldoring (camelthorn) tree which burns with an intense heat. I overdid the sausages a bit the first night, took longer the second night and had the fire running a bit hot tonight, so dinner was served a little earlier than planned. I reckon I’ll have it a bit right by the time we have our last braai here tomorrow.

Rab is now talking about possibly buying a Weber kettle here as it may be cheaper than in Australia! Not looking forward to shifting that along with our box full of animals and the rest of the luggage. Rab reckons that we’ll have a lighter load going home because of all the goods she brought for distribution to our pals and family. They have certainly been disbursed, but as I mention carefully, they have, to a large extent been replaced by local purchases. We’ll see.

The evening ended with my having to reverse Liz’s (manual) car up the driveway so they could head home. She says she can’t reverse because she can’t turn her head – I say should she be driving to which her response is predictably “Of course, I don’t reverse very often.” Hmmmm……