A life on the ocean wave - Part 2

When I think of a sea cruise, I have visions of lying on a lounger on the sun deck, waiters plying one with cocktails and savoury snacks, an afternoon game of deck quoits, perhaps a stroll along the upper deck at sunset, followed by an elegant dinner with damask linen and silver service and a game of cards in the lounge afterwards.
That of course belongs to another century, and today's cruise ships cater for a far greater cross section of society, and  we no longer have to seek ways to pass the hours on board. A dedicated team of young people from all over the world are on hand to encourage the reticent passenger to participate in a game of Throw the Pingpong Ball in a Glass of Water, Bingo, Guess the Movie from the Soundtrack or Have a Bucket of Water Thrown Over You. Our initial misgivings at such indecorous behaviour were soon thrown to the wind - although the level of our participation was mainly as observers, we were as keen as the rest to try our luck at Bingo. It didn't take long to realise that the whole point of these cruises is to be young at heart and just have some good old-fashioned fun.

Young and old mingled on the dance floor, and towards the end of one evening (around 1a.m. for me) the music slowed and an elderly gentleman (90) and his wife (an exceptionally elegant and beautiful probably 75-year-old) took to the dance floor with such skill and obvious compatibility that everyone was enthralled and didn't attempt to join them. When their dance was over, they were given an ovation, graciously acknowledged with a curtsey, as they left the floor. It was heartwarming to see the respect accorded by the youngsters who had been dominating the floor to head-banging beats all night.
In the meantime, the corkscrew motion of the boat continued, and lurching to the left and lurching to the right (known as the MSC foxtrot) ensured continued hilarity for those affected. Most of the young girls had 9-inch heels and didn't lurch once - this only reinforced our feelings of inadequacy on the ocean wave, but didn't lessen the laughter!

A life on the ocean wave - Part 1

'You snooze, you lose' is a phrase that definitely does not apply on a cruise ship. Food flows freely for much of every 24-hour period and although 1 300 people all appear to be rushing to get that last pork sausage or slice of cake, there is always more to replace it within a minute or two. There is no doubt that the availability of unlimited all-in-the-price food is a huge draw card for the majority of the passengers on these local coastal cruises. However, this is by no means all that is on offer.
A small group of us embarked at Cape Town on a grey Monday with a warning of high winds, and after sailing serenely past the breakwater, we quickly felt the effects of the long swells and troughs coming up from the south west, originating in the far regions of the notoriously stormy South Atlantic. Having eschewed the reassurance of sea sick tablets and being determined not to let the motion of the ocean disrupt my equilibrium, I stood my ground at the railings, watching the ruggedly beautiful Table Mountain, Twelve Apostles and Klein Leeukoppie slide by. I hadn't hurled a cat by Kommetjie and apparently had found my sea legs. All was well, despite the corkscrew motion of the vessel.

With our first (of many, many, many) onboard meal(s) safely tucked under our belts, we settled into our extremely comfortable sea view cabin that would be our home from home for the next few days. The large window (only a round one is a porthole) provided us with the best means of reminding us that we were not in a large resort hotel but actually on a moving ship - the white water from the bow wave rushed by as the ship sliced deeply into the oncoming swells, tilting the horizon giddily, then tilting it the other way as the rest of the vessel followed. The steady rolling motion didn't affect us but it certainly made us walk funny! As we made our way along the corridors from lounges to theatre, casino to shops, lower decks to upper sundecks, it was three steps to the left and then three steps to the right. It was the source of much hilarity for the rest of the week, as the deck rose up to meet our feet with every step.

Another stunning day in Cape Town

Today started off cloudy and cool with threatening rain, yet nothing fell from the clouds, and by late morning the day had developed into one of summer's best in Cape Town - blue skies, no wind, calm seas, moderate temperatures - a perfect day for giving the garden a good soaking without the water being blown away in the wind or evaporated by the sun before it can reach the roots. The summer blooms are good this year, although the agapanthus, which were so prolific last summer, have not flowered at all this year due to an attack by a worm that has decimated the population of this usually hardy plant. Hopefully a cocktail of Jeyes' Fluid and liquid soap will rid us of this pest and the plants will recover.

Kommetjie is a funny place. It has such an over-abundance of natural beauty that, whenever I go away for a few days or longer, I start to miss it before I have left! Today was no exception, and my friend and I took a walk along the boardwalk to the lighthouse as if to get a last glimpse of the view we enjoy just about every day. A constant procession of Hout Bay fishing boats was chugging home from the fishing grounds, accompanied by a small flotilla of skiboats that had gone out in search of something for the table. (Another of life's coincidences - I mentioned to someone this morning that it was probably 25 years since I had eaten a mackerel fresh from the sea, and at lunchtime a friend turned up with one he had caught this morning in False Bay - a tasty morsel, indeed.)

The sea glittered as if spread with diamonds and the air was so clear that we could see the rocks at the very foot of the Sentinel. I took a photo to capture the moment, and when I posted it here, I was amazed at how different the scene was to what I remembered it to be just a few hours before! The sea was actually quite rough. Now there's something for the psychologists out there to work on!

Blowing hot and cold

Woke up at 5.30 to the cracked crowing of the bantam rooster next door. I am told that I am lucky it's a bantam, as the big chickens have a far stronger voice! I had to drag myself out of bed as I had to get to town early for a Toastmasters training conference and admittedly it was rather nice to be outside in the cool of the morning on a windless day in Cape Town. As I drove round the curves of De Waal Drive into the City Bowl, I could see across the city to the calm waters of Table Bay, and there, gliding gracefully into Duncan Dock, was a pretty little white cruise ship, the MSC Opera. My ship had come in! At last!

But in the meantime, duty had to be done, and final preparations and packing for the cruise would have to wait. Outside the conference venue, the air was on a little on the warm side - about 30 degrees - and inside the airconditioning was 16 - not much warmer than a fridge. Presumably that was to keep everyone on their toes. An informative and inspiring morning developed, with plenty of things to think about regarding what we can contribute to the growth of others as well as ourselves through membership of Toastmasters.

After lunch, it was back home to the cooler climate of Kommetjie, where of course the fog had rolled in and obscured the sun for the rest of the day. Foghorns booed eerily from beyond the breakers as ships' captains still retain the good old-fashioned method of announcing their presence in fog - a big noise! The shore break is still thundering across the bay as I sit here on the balcony, although hidden behind the fog, and I am thankful that whatever inclement weather is upon us should be gone by Monday.

I have this romantic vision of us setting sail from the Waterfront in the gentle peach glow of the setting sun as it lights up the cliffs of Table Mountain, with a smooth sea at our bow and a gentle breeze to cool us as we lean on the railings. Here's hoping!

One extreme to the other

Way back in the dark ages, when I was but a girl, I went to a school where uniform code was very strictly applied. The most important rule was the length of the dress, which had to be 3cm above the knee when kneeling on the teacher's desk - weird, but true - it was called hemline inspection and a ruler would reveal the true distance. Bearing in mind that this was the late 60s and the era of the mini skirt, you can imagine that this went down like bacon at a barmitzvah. I'm not sure if the object of keeping the girls' skirts near the knee was to prevent the boys from the school next door enjoying their shapely legs, but the only place that the girls applied the rule was in the school grounds. As soon as they were outside the gates, belts were put to good use as about 30cm of skirt was hoiked up over them, sometimes to better effect than others. There is no doubt that some legs would have been better hidden.

Today I passed a group of schoolgirls with shirts hanging out of their skirts, and the skirts were pleated and wider than they were long - the hem barely reached the bottom of the bum. Once again, there is no doubt that some legs would have been better hidden, but the real problem was the wind. All those pleats allowed the southeaster to blow the skirts up like tutus, and the lack of material left nothing to the imagination as they crossed the road in front of four lines of traffic. They must have realised that there was no point in doing any clutching to cover, or else it genuinely didn't bother them, but I think that a re-design of skirts to suit Cape Town's weather conditions should get some serious consideration.

Celebrity celebration

Had a jolly good time at the new Cape Town Fish Market at the V & A Waterfront last night - occasion being the irrepressible Giggling Gourmet's birthday bash - in the West Coast Village section of the restaurant. This is an area with a beach sand floor (no good for high heels!) and benches at wooden tables set out around an open braai area, where the extremely hardworking chefs slave away over hot coals to produce seafood that is reminiscent of that which you would have cooked on the beach back in the day - mussels, linefish, crayfish, calamari and prawns in toothsome sauces, accompanied by a light fresh green salad and an array of speciality breads.

Before embarking on the substantial set menu, we were treated to vast platters of delectable sushi, which under normal dining out circumstances would have constituted the entire meal! It took five hours to work through the entire menu, but no one noticed the time passing, as attentive yet unobtrusive staff swept away the plates after each course and made sure that everyone knew when to collect the next one. The company was convivial, the conversation light-hearted and diverse, and the birthday girl, as always, couldn't resist donning her apron for the piece de resistance, pavlovas and death by chocolate cakes.
We all departed before the witching hour, and I managed to park my car in the garage before it turned into a pumpkin.

Grand clear out

Spent the day sorting out cupboards, drawers and table tops, making decisions about what to keep and what to throw away. Ably assisted by my son, who was ruthless in his decision-making on my behalf! Fortunately all the decisions were correct, and we managed to cart away more than a bootload of stuff to the dump where it will be recycled by those who can make use of it. Curtains, video recorders, laptops and bags, old clothes, about a hundred sets of earphones (the ones you get every time you upgrade your phone), various cords and adaptors for equipment long since departed, as well as the handrails from the bathroom which is currently being revamped.
While we are by no means near the end of the clutter clearing, it helps to clear the mind of ancient clutter as well and make way for new ideas and new beginnings. Every day is a new beginning and you can't progress if the old is holding you back. There can be no place for sentimentality - fortunately that is not something I suffer from - as this is the thing that prevents most people from clearing the clutter.
The next thing to clear is my desk with all the office work - now that is something I could happily put off forever!

A random rambling

Noticeably quieter today out and about. Coffee shop quiet - even got to do a little writing under the milkwood tree - a little input from Hemingway, perhaps. The roads are manageable again as the schools prepare for the start of another year.
As always, the hottest part of the year coincides with the return to school. In my day, the dim and distant past, this meant blazers and socks and shoes - absolute torture after six weeks of bikinis and bare feet. I hope this archaic and institutional practice has fallen away, as there is no need for a blazer in the southern sun which is so much harsher than in cooler climes.
We are now going to have a few days of really hot weather, with the southeaster rising in the late afternoon to ruin any thoughts of sundowners on the beach. My garden is literally littered with bright bracts of bougainvillea as the branches beat on the roof - definitely does the climber good as the ends of the branches are constantly renewing themselves. Another showy flowering shrub, the hibiscus, benefits from judicious pruning as new flowers appear on the regrowth. Never be afraid to trim your plants - even the milkwood likes a prune now and then.
I think I have traced the source of the plague of flies I have had in the house for the last two weeks! An over-enthusiastic scattering of fertilizer is most likely the cause, as they comprise chicken manure - no wonder the flies are in heaven. I have been watering like crazy to get the pellets to melt into the ground and the invasion has lessened, while the garden has turned into a jungle. How to strike a happy medium...

More Atlantic rollers thundering in

One of the foulest southeasters of summer is currently battering us, but the waves are so spectacular that all is forgiven. One side effect is that the cruise ship, MSC Opera, is unable to enter the port of Cape Town and so no passengers could embark today. I am due to embark next Monday, and have checked the long-range weather forecast - sse, 50% rain, 24km/hr gusting to 56km/hr. Today it's se, clear, 40km/hr, gusting to 56km/hr. So we might be lucky! In the meantime, it's going to become very hot until Saturday (lower 30s) - typical January weather.

Here are the waves that greeted me when I took this morning's weather photo, and some more later in the day.

Observation post

It's a somnolent summer Sunday afternoon. The camping mattresses are on the bricks under the coprosma. Hits of the 70s waft from the speaker hanging outside. Ants bustle to and fro, carrying enormous bits of detritus into a crack in the wall, which doubtless houses an army of these frenetic insects.
Overhead, the Cape White Eyes hop about in the branches, gorging themselves on the juicy orange berries, dropping sticky pips which will later be painfully tramped into the house via the soles of my feet.
Red-wing starlings whistle from the treetops, cocking a snook at the attempt of a sparrowhawk to snatch one from flight. Not so lucky a small pigeon, whose feathers lie scattered across the lawn, soon to line the nest of a tiny field mouse waiting in the safety of the shadow of the hedge.
Mango Kitty slinks sinuously along a branch, sights set on unwary prey.
A sheet of cloud appears overhead, its movement imperceptible.
A little like mine.

A less than satisfactory job done

Our hard work in the garden over the last few weeks has paid dividends - it is looking neat and well-kept, the vegetables are coming on nicely and overgrowth has been cut back and taken to the dump for mulching. All this is in spite of the gardener's faux pas, non-attendance and poor eyesight. But today took the cake.

Having failed to turn up for work on the allotted day, which had been discussed ad nauseam on the frequent occasions when he came to borrow money, he darkened my doorway this morning, a Saturday. This is never a good idea, as he was still suffering the effects of Friday night, but He Who Can Fix Anything failed to identify the warning signs - smoking as he leaned against the gate post, idle banter on the latest criminal goings on up the road in Ocean View, calling everyone by their first names (not a problem, but he never does when sober!) and various other pointers.

There wasn't much to do, but I showed him the vegetable patch and asked him to weed it and then scatter the two bags of  expensive rooibos mulch around the plants, indicated how thick it must be and told him it was to prevent snails from getting to the plants. Yes, he knew exactly what to do. And so I left home for Saturday brunch with the parents, thinking all would be under control.

I got back to find that the mulch had been thinly scattered, randomly, over the vegetable patch, thickly piled into a number of pot plants that had never been in danger of a snail attack (including under one plant that has been dead for weeks now) and the rest sprinkled over the lawn. He obviously had no idea what the purpose of it was, nor could he remember what I had told him. I suspect he had a stash of something in his holdall.

It really makes you want to tear your hair out, or maybe his, and wonder yet again whether there is any point in giving a job to an under-performer when there are so many more capable people out there. He only worked a half day, because he was going to visit his girlfriend in hospital, he said, but when he left, he told me a long story about doing his laundry and how he had been soaking it for two days and he thought that would be enough. Yes, Daniel. You do that, Daniel. No, not next week, Daniel. Goodbye, Daniel.

Another sudden squall

At 3 o'clock this morning I was woken by rain splashing on my face. No, I was not lying outside on the lawn having fallen asleep watching Comet Lovejoy. The rain was blowing in through the slightly ajar window of the bedroom and the wind was of such strength that it reached the bed. I have to say that in all the years of living here I have never been woken in that manner. The weather patterns have changed so much in the last few decades that it is difficult to know what season we are in from one day to the next, and even from morning to evening. The severity of the weather systems also increases every year, with generally stronger winds in both winter and summer. The temperatures have also been more extreme on both ends of the thermometer. Such is the cycle of life.

With not having to water the garden, it has been quite a relaxing day with plenty of time to do all the essentials - coffee with friends, a little light shopping at the deli next door, check the mailbox (empty, yay!) - then home, because I remembered a friend was coming round with a fresh yellowtail and I was going to make pickled fish! While I was out, he cleaned, skinned and sliced it ready for the pan, and within 45 minutes I had made 2kg of delicious pickled fish. The recipe says it will last for 6 weeks, but I can't imagine who could keep it that long - we will probably finish it by Tuesday!

I also found a gammon at the bottom of the deep freeze that had missed Christmas dinner, so that was cooked up in a pot of cola and sliced for cold cuts over the next few days. I anticipate very little cooking over the weekend, apparently.

A series of selfies

Feeling photographic rather than writing today (shocking grammar, but sounds quite nice) so took a series of selfies. It all started with a nomination to post a selfie to Facebook from way back and it continued from the sublime to the ridiculous. I thought it would be interesting to take a photo of the giant spinach I got from a local farmer and compare it with that growing in my little vegetable patch. After several posing attempts, I managed to get a fairly decent shot - the spinach leaf was much more photogenic!

Next it was the turn of Biggles, who is such a pretty cat, despite having lost his lovely gold, sparkly collar somewhere on the roof last night. He seemed happy to be in the photo. Mango was nowhere to be found - I think she has that teenage aversion to cameras. 

 I thought I had better not leave out the dogs, although Susie is blind and wouldn't have known a thing.

 Monty was a little unwieldy under my arm, weighing in at 8.5kg and long overdue for a haircut!

There was nothing else in the way of family or pets and the interesting vegetables had all been put in the stirfry, so the photographic session ended before everyone got bored.

Melting away

Roasting hot here today - at one stage the thermometer out on the balcony said 44.5 deg C. Even next to the sea we didn't get a cooling breeze, although now, at 23h15, the chill off the sea is very welcome but the inside of the house is still 26 degrees. I have to admit that no gardening was done today. The gardener turned up, but was blatantly honest about the fact that he was not actually looking to work today, but rather get an advance and come back on Friday. He gets so many advances that I don't think he can do enough work to cover them! However...

There was a spectacular sunset tonight, but unfortunately I was at a Toastmasters meeting and was inside a building and unable to see it. Thank goodness for social media - it was splattered all over my screen when I got home, so could enjoy it after all! The 'unfortunately' doesn't relate to being at Toastmasters - I belong to an exceptionally active, inspirational and fun club, full of talented and entertaining speakers and leaders who have so much to teach in all aspects of life, not just how to make a good speech. I came away from tonight's meeting determined to make greater effort in my speech-making and to stop procrastinating in so many areas. I've always got by on 'why do today what you can put off till tomorrow', but that is not the way to make headway in achieving goals and milestones.

Here's hoping I can kick my own butt!

A sudden gale

A gale just blew up out of nowhere. I was standing next to some pine boards propped against the house when suddenly they all fell on top of me. If I were elderly, I would have been squashed. This is how quickly the weather changes in Cape Town. Another pile of planks just blew over and a whirlwind of gravel dust has covered me from head to toe - I am chewing on grit as I type this.

We have been relatively spoilt by the windless days recently, with the southeaster backing to southerly and bringing very pleasant conditions. But the southeaster is back without warning, bashing the poor palm trees, and dragons are chasing each other over the crest of Chapman's Peak.

The wind is singing its own ghostly tune as it finds its way through the cracks around the exterior of the house, and the blinds have been sucked out through the windows - time to batten down the hatches for a while. The lid of the Weber has been snatched from its perch and clanged onto the brick paving, where it will echo as it rolls to and fro until I go downstairs to retrieve it.

The little birds must have their tiny claws in a vice-like grip around the twigs as they resist a buffeting by the gusts. I doubt whether they would have much control over their flight in these conditions. Even the seabirds are clinging to the rocks, beaks facing into the wind for least resistance. The sea has been whipped up from a glassy surface to frothy slashes of spray across the bay, the sunlight gleaming glass green through the rising face laced with foam from a spent swell.

It's wild out there!

Bin-picking for a living

Oh dear! It's bin night and that means the bin-pickers are out. I always put anything I think they might find useful on top of the bin, although that is not necessarily relevant as their needs are different to ours. Tonight I left a packet of edible leftovers as well as some old clothes and shoes, and now they are picnicking on the front lawn, with all their belongings strewn around them. While I am quite sure they mean no harm and actually rely on bin-picking to feed themselves - the very thought of it is horrifying to us privileged homeowners - I fear that other residents do not share my view that they, too, are human and have basic needs for food and shelter.
My greatest concern was that HWCFA might arrive home and not be very welcoming towards his unexpected guests, but I need not have worried - they ate, packed up and departed for bins new.
I think that the reason why we (and I reluctantly include myself in that generalisation, although I constantly strive not to) feel slightly threatened by the presence of the indigent is because of a learned reaction - that the poor may want to steal from us, and we are acquisitive and possessive by nature. The truth is more likely to be that they have no interest in our goods and view life differently, while the thieves and robbers live in houses already, drive cars and are employed to do their dastardly deeds by a third party who places an order for the goods he wants supplied - there is always a waiting market.
It is perhaps that we do not want to be reminded of those who literally have nothing, while we are surrounded by excess, and a sense of discomfit prevails. This would mean that we still have a conscience regarding the underprivileged and can still claim some remnants of empathy. Never a bad thing.

Idle day at the sea

We have at last settled into the long, lazy days of summer - lazy in that there are more daylight hours to enjoy the outdoor life and watch the birds down at the rocks here in Kommetjie. The terns that occupy the island in summer fly en masse along the coastline at high tide, their roosting place covered by the sea, and presumably this is when they take the opportunity to catch a few fish - they are always together, seldom moving far from the flock whether resting or flying in their odd way - like fighter jets wiggling from side to side as they close in on their target.

The oystercatchers must have moved to a quieter spot, away from the disturbance of the summer crowds - a bit of a misnomer as Kommetjie could not be called crowded - but let's call it a greater human and canine presence on the rocks - as I haven't seen many for a long time. Perhaps new feeding grounds have been found.
The flamingos that have given us all such a treat over the last year are also staying well away from the Kom and prefer the back reaches of Noordhoek beach, where only racehorses and local riders are likely to be in their vicinity. Hopefully they will come back in the next few weeks to pose for the photographers - the confines of the Kom are perfect for close-up shots of these most elegant of birds.
The sea is a sparkling, clear blue and the clouds have long disappeared after an early morning blanketing of the Peninsula. The heavy swells from the passing cold front are also gone and no sound comes from the shoreline as the southeaster carries all sounds out to sea. Schoolchildren enjoy their last day at the beach for the long summer holidays - school starts this week and life returns to some semblance of normality.

A pictorial bird blog!

As a member of an avid birdwatching family, I remember family holidays as being punctuated by frequent screechings to a halt at the side of the road to look at a buzzard on a telephone pole or a grassbird clinging to a stalk in a wheatfield. It is true that the observation of birds can be a very interesting pastime and although I have joined in this occupation much later in life, mainly due to getting my eyesight sorted out, I find that the birds have all waited for me to catch up, so it's never too late to become a twitcher. These pictures are of the birds who pass through my garden or airspace regularly.

The sacred ibis that fly overhead every morning and evening in elegant formation - here they are descending for the day's feeding on the rocks

A few of the pigeons we feed - the population has, of course, vastly increased due to the plentiful food supply, but on the other hand, they provide a perfect supply of food for the raptors

One of the black sparrowhawks that prey on the pigeons. You won't believe how many feathers float down after a hit.

This dove and a juvenile fiscal shrike enjoyed a little companionship

This night heron normally roosts in a nearby cedar tree and seemed a bit grumpy to be on the roof

I rescued this little double-collared sunbird from the cats. A few days later, they had it again, and this time managed to pull all its tail feathers out, but I caught it again and it did fly away. I hope it stays well out of reach.

My favourite, the boubou shrike

We are often treated to a visit by a large flock of flamingos collectively known as a flamboyance!

A recent visitor and not seen before - a juvenile peregrine falcon. Will keep feeding those pigeons!

Zip-lining - testing my vertigo!

In the words of a good friend, "Today Hestia became Athena!" While that may be stretching the imagination a bit far, maybe the eagle did take to the wing. I have never felt comfortable with heights and wobble on a ladder. The thought of bungee jumping makes the stomach turn and a trip in an elevator to the top of even a moderate-sized building makes me lightheaded. The Empire State Building will never be conquered by this vertiginous soul.

But today I went zip-lining on what I believe is the highest and longest zip-line in South Africa. SA Forest Adventures have set up a tour at Silvermist Estate at Constantia Nek, and somewhat rashly two schoolfriends and I booked an adventure. Heidi has zip-lined before and was so excited that she barely slept last night, she told us. I have given it as little thought as possible, owing to my dislike of heights. I wouldn't call it a fear or phobia, just very uncomfortable on a mountain ledge. Fear is not my middle name.

We booked the early morning slot to avoid the heat of the day and were hooked up into our harnesses before clambering on to the game-viewing vehicle which took us up a steep and very rough track to almost the top of the Constantiaberg. Breathtaking views of the back of Table Mountain and across the Peninsula helped to keep my mind off the prospect of being attached to the first zip-line which seemed to stretch forever to the distant cliff face.

Two young and very entertaining guides ensured that everyone knew the rules and how to get out of trouble i.e. missing the landing platform and our group then commenced the journey along 7 different lines of varying distance and velocity, the highest being a drop of 155m and the longest 500m. Once you get going, there is no turning back, and after the first zip I felt completely off balance and not at all sure that I would enjoy the next 6. But as I say, there is no turning back and no room for sissies, and each line did get easier, although I think I could have relaxed into the harness more and relied less on gripping the overhead roller - there was no need to support myself as there are two connections and safety is assured. My shoulders will have a story to tell tomorrow!

Some zips had to be done in tandem as we were going into the wind and would not have been heavy enough singly to make it to the next platform. The person at the back has to act as the brake and we had a bit of a close call by not slowing down enough - the guide fortunately had the emergency 'brake' in place as we hurtled towards a metal pole, my eyes like saucers! I must point out that we would not have crashed, although many jokes were made!

I haven't yet concluded whether or not it was enjoyable - I think I tried to block out the idea of where I was and just concentrated on getting to the other side! I never missed a platform, so I couldn't have been too bad at it, but I struggled with the walks between a few of them as they were up very steep mountainside. The guides made me sit down and rest (made me feel quite old, but I did have to) and actually took off the heavy slider to lessen the weight I had to carry! I've never been good at hills.

Overall, it was a great experience tempered by perhaps the closest I have ever been to petrified! I would recommend it, but not for those who are genuinely afraid.

Wardrobe woes

Did you know that you can't buy a simple bedroom wardrobe with hanging space and shelves in the furniture shops these days? We set off on a wild goose chase this afternoon across the Southern Suburbs.  No one seemed to know where we could buy a decent, floor-to-ceiling, free-standing bedroom wardrobe. I asked the assistant - a term I use loosely, as it was quite apparent that she had no idea what a wardrobe was, nor that she had any inclination to assist - at the Hyperama at Blue Route where people put their clothes these days and was met with a blank stare as if I had asked where the man in the moon lived. We just left, having had previous experience in that store of 'assistants' who completely ignore the customer and are only interested in talking to each other. How they are still employed is a mystery, considering how many million more are better qualified for the job.

Tafelberg Furnishers had just as little to offer, except that the assistant was alert, attentive and could walk briskly. She was sorry that she couldn't help. I have bought goods there before and will do so again.

It eventually dawned on us that people don't have free-standing wardrobes anymore and generally have them purpose-built, or buy the kit according to their needs. How inconvenient when you just want to choose a wardrobe and have it delivered the next day, ready for your clothes. So tomorrow it will be off to the suppliers of such kits for the men of the family. Let's hope they get it all sorted out and I don't have to listen to any more talk of getting an old ball-and-claw, imbuia cupboard - I'm afraid I can't accept that in my house and will have to burn it if it arrives!

I have other fish to fry - look out for tomorrow's blog!

A jaunt to the Waterfront

It was a day of post-Christmas rush errands, one of which took me to the Waterfront - registering my new Nespresso machine and receiving 70 capsules by way of a bonus! An even bigger bonus was that the weather was magnificent, the crowds had gone and it was a perfect day for an idle stroll along the quayside, enjoying a rather Jamaican-like marimba band and the comings and goings of the various cruise boats.

A pretty little cruise liner was berthed in the docks - the view from the drive into town showed her sleek lines, immaculate white paint and tinted bridge windows - a far cry from the very basic Union-Castle ships we travelled on in the 60s. Of course, in those days the ships were the main means of travel between countries and their basic purpose was to deliver the mail, with passengers a useful extra. Today the cruise ships are solely for pleasure, and some extensive blogging will follow on this subject later this month.

Back to the Nespresso shop - this is laid out to achieve maximum marketing impact and is impressive to say the least. The displays are simple yet enticing and judging by the number of people in the shop, they all want to belong to the 'Nespresso club' where you get to pop in for a free coffee any time. Customer service appears to be paramount. But still no sign of George Clooney.

Survival of the toughest!

True to form, we woke up to a steady drizzle this morning, as I have spent the last two days doing intensive watering of the garden! It never fails - I call it my personal rain dance. At least the natural watering will soak into the soil as it is already damp. The oily sand which is characteristic of Kommetjie makes for quite difficult gardening conditions and I have over the years spent and wasted a fortune on compost, soil improver and mulch, all of which has had little effect. The only answer is to let whatever will grow, grow. Or put it in pots. That is a good alternative as they can be moved with the seasons and the sunlight, but eventually the roots of the more vigorous plants will go through the bottom of the pot and who knows how far into the earth below, effectively anchoring them until they become totally root-bound. I once saw a fascinating result of this at the nursery shop at Kirstenbosch - a dried tangle of roots like a wooden sculpture, in the shape of the pot in which it had grown. I hope that, when the ficus eventually reaches the end of its days, its root system will have developed into just such a work of art.

Here's a selection of the tough plants that make it in my garden!