Gala buffet on the Crystal Symphony

A gala buffet is a regular event on various legs of the world cruise aboard the Crystal Symphony, and is a vast showcase of the skills of each executive chef and his minions. The reception foyer was transformed into a banqueting hall and immaculate displays lay upon groaning tables. The sea was dead calm at this stage of the voyage, and it might have become interesting if the ship had been rolling!
The chefs lined up for introduction to the guests and a brief resume of their length of service and qualifications let us know that our culinary needs were certainly in good hands. Having toured the galley a number of times, I would say that it requires dedication and stamina to produce the quality and quantity of food that 850 guests might fancy at any time of day or night, and in all weathers. There is no place for egos and teamwork is the order of the day.
The photos must speak for themselves. Choice was difficult and simple was the best. I stayed away from the prawns and crayfish, having had a bit of an overdose of those! And being a Crystal Cruise, as soon as I had completed my selection, the plate was removed from my hand and carried into the dining room where I was seated in comfort. The level of service on this ship must be very hard to beat anywhere in the world!

The Noon Gun up close

The heat of summer and many people taking holidays at this time of year have seen our hiking numbers depleted and a few cancelled, which has not been good for either body or soul! So today it was with good spirits that I set out for a place I have never been, despite having lived in Cape Town for 60 years - the noon gun site on Signal Hill! We started late to ensure that we would be at the guns at noon and so, although a light cooling breeze was drifting in from the south, the sun cancelled out much of its effect, and there were only a few tall trees for shade along the route, as anyone who has ever glanced up at Signal Hill will verify. Only the parking area has shade, which is no good for hikers!
A very rough and rocky jeep track wound steeply down the mountain slope - slightly alarming as it was the way back as well. But we are made of tough stuff and tried not to dwell on that thought. We stopped many times to admire the vista and it certainly was a beautiful late summer day in Cape Town. The track provided views that are not normally seen and it was interesting to see the docks and Waterfront from a different angle. We limited our hike to 5kms due to the heat and spent nearly an hour lounging under the trees at the somewhat neglected noon gun site. No effort has been made to keep it neat or spruced up, no doubt through lack of interest by the authorities and the short time that visitors are on site - 15 minutes before noon for the actual firing of the gun and then back into the taxi for the next tourist attraction! We were the only ones who arrived on foot!
The officer in charge appeared in a smart uniform at the appropriate time and proceeded to regale us with the history and functioning of the guns. I attach a photo but would recommend that you go and experience it for yourself - it was entertaining and the actual firing was impressive. I think everyone jumped even though we joined in the countdown! Flame and smoke shot out of the barrel and everyone left quite satisfied that the firing had happened according to schedule. The black powder is ignited by a computerised signal sent from the SA Observatory a few miles away, in direct sight. Two guns are primed in the event of failure of the initial signal, whereupon the officer will manually ignite the charge of the second gun. Today was the 66 433rd firing of the gun, so you can work that out for yourself. It is not fired on Sundays or Public Holidays - Capetonians are sleeping in.
The hike back to the cars was indeed a hike. The equivalent of 50 flights of 10 stairs as per the Fitbit, and we felt it all the way, It was dauntingly steep and much huffing and puffing ensued. The car park was indeed a welcome sight!

Good advice and interesting facts

Green Point

History lesson

Priming the gun                       BOOM

Lounging lizards                                                                     Table Mountain

Getting waterwise

Who would have ever imagined that water, or the prospective lack of it, would become the focus of our daily lives? It used to be only the British who talked incessantly about the weather, but now every Capetonian you meet is anxiously staring skyward in the hopes of seeing a cloud. Sunday afternoons are spent decanting water from drums at the foot of our downpipes into 5l plastic bottles, which are then strategically placed around the garden for easy watering. My upper arms have lost their flab and I can now carry two 10l bottles in each hand and climb a flight of 13 stairs without raising my heartbeat. That might have something to do with all the hiking I do, but the upper body strength is definitely a bonus. I would imagine gym memberships have fallen off somewhat.
We bought a 5000 litres jojo tank in 2016, not because we thought we needed it at the time, but because it was going cheap (nobody was buying them) and we have plenty of space. It only weighed 60kg when empty and was easily moved by one person, but the sheer bulk of it was a logistical nightmare as it had to be taken from the front of the house, down the side between trees and a wall, over the back lawn and up the other side of the house, also under trees. By using a railway track made of planks, we slid the huge tub easily along the route, just making it under the trees without trimming, and brought it to its final resting place - a sturdy concrete foundation we had just built. This was in December 2016.
It took nearly 9 months for the tank to fill from the roof during the winter of 2017, which was almost non-existent, and we have used very little of it, except to fill 5 litre bottles and store them down the side of the house, with the occasional watering of plants. We have made it through the summer with the well (that only pumped for 10 minutes at a time and has been dry for a few weeks now) and the wellpoint. This is not a borehole - just a pipe into the ground until it reaches bedrock 8 feet down - and is fed by seepage from the mountain and pumps quite weakly but adequately to keep the garden going throughout summer, even though I only water for an hour twice a week for no particular reason other than I don't have any other time.
But even with all this water available, we have become acutely aware of how much we have wasted over the years and how little we actually need. It is our lifestyle and domestic situation that has made us used to opening a tap and accessing water for cleaning, cooking, washing and wasting. Our houses are filled with things that need constant cleaning. Our clothes need steam for ironing. Windows need washing - although in Kommetjie one is not looked askance for dirty windows - it's the sea air! Cars need washing otherwise it looks as though you don't care. Now dirty cars are a status symbol. Long may it last.
For me, the biggest adjustment has been reducing shower time - I who have long regarded a hot shower as being the ultimate luxury in life, especially standing under it until the water runs cold. No more. I can now use 8 litres including washing my hair! This is easy while it is summer, but I don't think I will be so happy in winter - and I think these restrictions will last through winter at least.
Will have to just toughen up.

Maputo maundering

Maputo was the next port of call for the Crystal Symphony, and we woke to find ourselves alongside the dock with a railway station a stone's throw away. Between the dock and the station, abandoned buildings, roofless and looking rather shot up, no doubt a legacy of the  war for freedom from Portuguese rule (excuse me for not being able to give a concise history, but it all seems so long ago) were incongruous among the fine examples of architecture that remained dotted among modern buildings. The city sprawled away into the distance, much larger than I had imagined, and although we didn't go ashore and only viewed Maputo from the deck, it didn't seem to have much going on in the way of traffic or city activity. I realise I didn't exactly go and look for myself, but the reports from returning passengers, hot and sweaty from long walks in the neighbourhood, made it clear that nothing had been missed. The only really big activity was the construction of a gigantic suspension bridge right in front of the ship, evidently under Chinese supervision, and it looked rather out of place in an area where ancient wooden fishing vessels lay beached at low tide, and a long jetty jutting into the bay was the only sign of activity, with cars and people constantly boarding a series of decrepit ferries to cross over to the other side. They will no doubt be out of business once the new bridge is opened.

The headland was lush with trees and houses hidden among them - no barren township - and it would have been interesting to know about who lived there and whether they thought life was good in Maputo. So difficult to really get the feel of a place when passing through in a bubble of ostentatious luxury! I took photos of the fishing boats, as I felt that was probably a good representation of life in Maputo.

Another humid hike

After a fairly tame hike last week, we went to the other end of the spectrum today with a 9 kilometre trudge through the leafy green belt of Constantia. At first we were sheltered under the old oaks and plane trees lining the banks of the Diep River (more of a puddle than deep), but as we ascended the lush foothills and passed paddocked gardens, the coverage thinned and we crossed open grass areas, criss-crossed with footpaths bearing dogs and their owners or walkers. The slight breeze was behind us and so imperceptible, and the humidity soon took its toll on us - perspiration abounded and water stops were frequent, more so than on any other hike I have been on in the last 8 months. This time of year is not for those who feel the heat!
Ever onward we climbed, crossing roads to continue up through the forested areas, wondering if we were ever going to reach the halfway mark (coffee and buns!), and eventually we found ourselves on the other side of Rhodes Drive, the highest road contouring the mountain. The appeal of the shady pines with soft pine needles providing a picnic blanket was the decider. Coffee break and then the long downhill.
A huge pine tree was the perfect resting place, making a comfortable lounger to lean against, and I could have had a nice doze except for the sound of the traffic not 50m away! We really couldn't summon the enthusiasm to climb further up.
Suitably refreshed and looking forward to lunch and beer, we set off back into the woodlands for the hour and a half walk back to the cars. Of course, our Intrepid Leader, as is his wont, had other plans. Not for him the downhill stroll 'neath shady oaks. We veered off to the right and soon found ourselves tramping through the manicured streets of Upper Constantia/bordering Bishopscourt, where a weed would not dare show itself in the immaculate lawned verges, and signs indicating 'Borehole water' revealed why the gardens rivalled Kirstenbosch. In the distance, we could see Wynberg Hill getting further away - quite alarming as this was where the cars were. It was now 10am and the heat was beginning to intensify proportionately to the thinning of the trees. Real concern set in when he stopped to consult his map. This is always a bad sign, and generally adds an hour to a hike.
We set off, grumbling, across Bel Ombre meadow, into Rathfelder Avenue - the longest circular drive in the area - and trudged on and on. More map consulting took place while leaning against trees for support. Our Intrepid Leader cackled evilly. He had no sympathy for us weaklings. He loved a good diversion.
In the end, the walk stretched for 9km over 4.5 hours, but it was really good for us and we did enjoy it. Almost as much as the lunch and beer!

My tree!

Coffee break

Docked in Richards Bay

We always sailed in the evening and docked in the early morning, and it was a huge surprise to look out of the window and find myself looking out across a huge empty field with silos and other industrial buildings in the distance. Huge trucks trundled along a dirt road through the middle of the field, presumably carrying some kind of load to the silos (perhaps sugarcane, as Zululand is the cane field heartland), and just below us on the dockside were buses and minibuses waiting again to take passengers to St Lucia to see hippos and other wildlife. It was strange to be docked in the middle of nowhere and no explanation was offered as to why we had not docked at the waterfront where cruise ships were normally berthed. It was a bit of a disappointment, and I doubt it had anything to do with the Crystal cruise line.
Another cousin came to collect us and we were off on a long drive through green landscapes, unfamiliar to us from a drought-ridden Cape Town, and undulating hills until we reached the St Lucia estuary, with birdlife in abundance and hippos just near the bridge! The heat and humidity was almost bearable, but an airconditioned car was greatly appreciated. It was a 3-hour trip both ways, and the cruise groups had a similar distance to travel, but it turned out that we were the only ones to see hippos that day! Local luck, I suppose.
Back on board the Crystal Symphony, we decided to dine at the Chinese restaurant where the food was absolutely mouthwatering, and the Captain and senior officers, who apparently favoured the same cuisine as we often saw them there, were at a nearby table. Catching up with folks back home on social media, I noticed a post warning of the tropical cyclone headed towards Mauritius and Reunion with the horrendous forecast of it being the worst since 2002. My heart fell into my shoes and suddenly the idea of sailing away from the African coast and into the open Indian Ocean completely lost all its appeal. I looked over at the Captain and Co. They seemed locked in serious conversation. Without further ado, I rushed over and asked if I should jump ship while I still had the opportunity and he naturally assured me that they were monitoring it carefully and wouldn't take any chances. Cheeky as ever, I asked him to please take a detour up the Mozambique Channel and he said I mustn't worry. I knew, of course, that he would never endanger his ship, but when we left Maputo the next evening, I was mightily relieved to see we were motoring at 20 knots up the Mozambique Channel! I saw him a few days later and he came over to tell me he had taken my advice! What a laugh we had!

Booby prize?

I'm in the Company Gardens, Cape Town, on a sweltering February day, when even the pigeons are too hot to strut and peck, preferring to lie in the dust of lawns gone by, wings outspread to catch the slightest breeze. My infrequent mission to this neck of the woods was to collect a hand sanitizer that I won two weeks ago by Liking the Dept of Health's Facebook page. I found a gap in my busy schedule to collect what I assumed would be an industrial quality dispenser. Parking at the wrong end of Queen Victoria Street, I replaced my usual hike with a hot and sweaty game of hide and seek among the rabbit warren of government buildings that characterise this part of town. Every building was nicely marked with appropriate signage except the one I was looking for. It transpired that two buildings had been joined by turning the road between them into a gigantic foyer, thereby rendering Google Maps totally useless. At last I reached the help desk where I was to collect my prize. The woman handed me a small packet containing a 75ml bottle of liquid hand wash. I kid you not. I took 2 similar items from my handbag to show that I had plenty already and told her that I had driven 80km and spent about R100 on petrol to collect something worth less than R10. 'Shrug'
The security guard commiserated and said it had happened to everyone and he couldn't understand why we should have all been taken for a ride.
On the upside, I passed a mob toyi-toying outside the High Court, and a young Caucasian trying to sell trinkets to some Nigerians. Not something I see every day.
A stop in the delightfully lush Company Gardens made up for the wasted morning. The lawns were home to the homeless, taking a nap in the shade, while a large group of German tourists were being regaled with tales of the bad old days and it seemed a shame that it wasn't updated to the events of the last 24 years and especially current affairs. The same group straggled in, sweating, for sustenance at the tea room, and I fear they were less than impressed with the service, although my waitress was charming.
Everyone I encountered was friendly, chatty and charming - proof that you always get what you expect, unless it is a free gift from the Dept of Health!

The final cost of collecting the 'prize': R100 petrol, R30 parking, R120 lunch, R20 cooldrink for car guard, four hours of my time, and this blog.

Shuffle aboard

We spent two days docked in Durban. I had hoped to invite the cousins aboard for lunch, but seven days' notice is required and we hadn't been aboard long enough, so it was impossible to treat them. I spent two days ashore as a result and it was lovely to sit in the lush, shady garden up in the less humid hills of Kloof, eating a good curry on the one day, and strolling along the Umhlanga beachfront in the midday heat of the first really hot day they had had the whole summer! It was just a bit of practice for the humidity to come on the rest of the cruise, and we have a lot to be thankful for to the person who invented airconditioning! A visit by the monkeys provided amusement and in comparison to the huge baboons I have had in my kitchen, these mischievous little monkeys seemed cute, although there is no doubt they have similar destructive capabilities when loose in the house.
Back on board in our big bubble, the Crystal Symphony seemed quiet. Although one never feels that there are many people around at any time except dinner, due to the spaciousness of the open areas, there were fewer people aboard. This was because many passengers were doing the safari route (something we would use to describe a trip to the Serengeti, perhaps) to various game reserves on the way from Durban to Richards Bay, where the ship would berth to collect them again. There must have also been further embarkations, because over the next few days we noticed a change in the demographics aboard, with the average age going down considerably and a large group of partying Australians making an appearance. They loved to sing and we spent many a late night in the piano bar with them. The piano player was Richard Ceasar from Cape Town, well known in music circles and a very talented man who entertained us in style. He was overjoyed to recognise my fellow passenger, with whom it turned out he shared a birthday, and a lot of Afrikaans banter followed in the evenings. Just because we could.

Lobster

Bite-sized desserts

Mad dogs and Englishmen..

Marilyn, Umhlanga lighthouse and me

Beaches are not like Cape Town

Monkeying around

Sushi

A very conservative lunch

No poolside organised activities on this ship!

We had reached the hot and humid zone and from now on spent very little time on deck. Capetonians can't take the heat; at least, not this one!