An old favourite

It's been almost too hot to blog today, but a cooling breeze is wafting in off the sea, creating the perfect temperature to sit outside on the deck and watch the sunset on the Back Table. As expected, plenty of refreshment was required today, and while my poison is usually water, in this family Oros is the choice for a real thirst, with lots of ice and iced water, usually a few glassfuls one after the other. Is Oros a South African-invented cooldrink? I think it might be, and I'm sure my compatriots will also have childhood memories of this all-time favourite, which still proudly boasts of containing 6% orange juice, even after more than 100 years of production. It still contains sugar, which in these days of artificial sweeteners (some manufacturers even have the gall to use aspartame) is also quite refreshing. Rather some real sugar than any form of artificial substitute.

My earliest memory of Oros is way back in the Fifties (I know, I know, most of you weren't born yet!) and we would holiday at Knipe's farm, Baden, just outside Montagu. What a marvellous place it must have been to have remained among my most vivid memories from my childhood! We had a bottle of Oros and a jug of water with glasses on a tray in our big family room at the end of the upstairs wing - a kind of early tea/coffee station you might say. No worries about pocket money or a shop to buy cooldrinks at. Oros was always on hand for a bunch of thirsty children who had spent the day running up and down the dirt roads of the farm, swimming in the big concrete swimming pool fed by the hot springs and doing what kids do on a holiday in the wide open spaces of the Karoo.

Sadly, all that is left of those days is the Oros...

Spicy food to tempt your tastebuds

Despite the current punishing heat, my thoughts turned to curry for supper.- truth to tell, it doesn't take much to turn my thoughts to curry. We love hot, spicy food in this family and although I have always made my curries from scratch, with individual spices, I have discovered a home made mix at the local deli that encompasses the range required for a very tasty curry, and the chilli can be added to taste. Our taste is at least a teaspoon of dried chilli, and if the hand slips, somewhat more. It's all rather hit and miss, and we generally gauge the heat level by how long it takes for your eyes to water. Remember that drinking water is not the solution if the curry is too hot and your mouth is on fire. Milk, yoghurt and particularly avocado will put out the fire at once. Hence the traditional accompaniments! I suspect that part of the attraction of hot food is the variety of side dishes that are required, and particularly my favourite rice, basmati.

Spices have numerous health benefits, just as herbs do, and unless we eat them regularly and in quantity, we are not going to have optimum health. It doesn't take long to adjust to spicy food and I can assure you that there will be no looking back when you do. The very thought of curry is enough to make the salivary glands burst into action, which indicates a pleasurable experience associated with such foods.Great for enhancing your mood, too. Don't be reluctant, be adventurous! 

Constantia Nek to Kirstenbosch

A climb equivalent to 250m and a distance of 6.5 km was easily achieved today, despite times of intense heat. The walk from Constantia Nek to Kirstenbosch along the jeep track is a favourite. After the first steep stretch it is a comfortable, albeit rocky track along the contour of the mountain, with ample opportunity to walk in groups to chat, and admire the view, without being too concerned about tripping over something. A strong upper air northwester sent a tumbling tablecloth scurrying over the peaks, and we were hoping it was the forerunner of a predicted shower tonight, but that seems to have slipped away. The breeze passed overhead and we had to rely on the towering gum trees of the plantation to shade us. These magnificent trees reach up to the sky in a seemingly endless stretch of trunk, culminating in a sparse but beautifully branched canopy. The bark is smooth and pale and begs to be stroked. (I love to touch the different leaves and trees!)
We climbed up to Nursery Ravine (an unexpected extra on what I thought was a fairly flat walk) and really got some good exercise on the way up. There was no water at all, although that is expected at this time of year, and our rest among the jumbled rocks and indigenous trees with tangled creepers was a delight, always making the effort to get there so worthwhile.
The descent into Kirstenbosch was fairly steep, particularly once we were in the upper reaches of the gardens, and it was tough on the calves to be on such an extended downhill. But what a beautiful place to be on a Tuesday!

Scorched earth under my feet

2019

Same patch in 2013. Climate change.

Today is one of those days when bare feet are not really an option. I kick off my shoes as soon as I get home, and today has been no exception. The sun heats up dark wooden stairs very efficiently and the brick paving, being only slightly lighter, is also another source of cheap heat. The distance from inside to the wash line at the back of the garden is about 150 feet and my bare feet felt every foot of those feet. I tripped the light fantastic down the stairs, quickstepped, foxtrotted and tangoed down the bricks and reached the wash line. The soles of my feet were on fire. Pale concrete is cooler than bricks, but even then I hopscotched as I hung.
It reminded of the days of my youth, when we would walk from home in Clovelly to the Clovelly Country Club to swim in the pool. The long and winding tar road had a solid white line all along, as overtaking was and still is dangerous and impossible. We didn't wear shoes in those days either and we would never have made it to the Club without that white line!
It seems incredible that any plants are actually surviving the solar onslaught, as the sand is as hot as the bricks, and one would think that the roots are baked and the leaves boiling in their own sap. How marvellous is nature that such delicate things even exist!

Eating out a lot!

It's been a week of lurching from lunch to lunch, driving from dinner to dinner. But who am I to complain? In between I've burned the calories off in the mountains in the most wonderful weather for hiking - strong wind to keep us cool and clouds to cover the sun. Unfortunately the wind has not been good for the wildfires that develop from fires set either deliberately or carelessly by people who have no understanding of the serious consequences of these uncontrollable fires. One can only hope that those currently raging in Cape Town spare loss of life. Latest updates are not encouraging.

The lunches have brought interesting conversations and delectable food into my life - I may have exaggerated when I said I had burned off the calories, and I may have to double my walks this week! Although I am an avid cook and don't mind the time spent in the kitchen, it is always a treat to eat someone else's food, particularly when they are among some of the finest chefs in town. When each dish is a treat for the tastebuds, it inspires me to put more effort into home cooking, and I certainly have plenty of input on hand. As a thank you to good friends, here is a short review:

Karibu (South African Dining), V&A Waterfront: excellent service, lovely venue with amazing views, and  familiar foods with an extra special twist. My absolute favourites were: smoked snoek pate, slow-roasted lamb shanks and an incredible crème brulee. I will be back.

 

Giggling Gourmet Cooks Playground, Cape Quarter: a bachelorette pre-party cooking session of Asian foods, where everyone made a dish and we all dined sumptuously afterwards. Fun, informative, lovely setting, a guest appearance by the Giggling Gourmet herself, Jenny Morris, to entertain us in her special way and make sure we didn't overcook the food. Highly recommended.

Yumcious: Durbanville and Cape Quarter: Breakfast and lunch - my favourite place for salads and vegetables. Too many dishes to identify, but always well worth a visit for fresh and tasty food that is always better than home! Roast pork belly - mmmmm!

The Amphitheatre, Silvermine

And another new hike for me! This time we set out from the upper car park at Silvermine to climb up to the ridge forming the Amphitheatre basin forming the catchment area for the Silvermine River, and in which the dam nestles. It looked incredibly daunting as we ambled up the jeep track on the left hand side, branching off into the fynbos after a few hundred metres. The sandy track with stone slabs led us steadily upward and then steeply upward as we headed for the ridge. At this stage, a group of slower, less able to climb hikers veered off to an easier walk, and soon they were small specks in the distance.
We could soon see across the southern Peninsula mountains almost to Cape Point, and across the Cape Flats north and east, where the remnants of the recent devastating fire over the Hottentots Holland were sending thin plumes skyward. With a strong southeaster developing and here to stay for a good few days, I knew the sparks would fly and sure enough, by the time our hike was over, the pall of smoke was covering the area and obscuring the mountain views. More work for our brave and seemingly tireless firefighters.
Surprisingly, we reached the top of the ridge without too much effort, although it was clear that we had climbed to quite an elevation, with the cars looking like dinky toys on the other side of the dam. Two people were swimming up and down the length of the dam, but as time went on, the wind strengthened and made the surface quite choppy, putting an end to that. The wind was a blessing, keeping us cool and better able to endure a little exertion.
It was a very enjoyable walk, with signs of protea cynaroides getting ready to burst into flower, their silky pale pink bracts pointing boldly out of their surrounding leaves. We will have to go back in February to enjoy them. A few tall watsonias still provide startling splashes of scarlet to delight the eye and add an arty touch to photos.
At the end of the ridge, we joined the jeep track and strolled leisurely down the slope. Casting our eyes to the right, it was hard to believe we had just scaled that ridge and walked along it - no ill effects and in less than three hours! A real sense of achievement.

Cleo - constant companion

This little dog came into our lives three years ago, weighing in at 900g and uncertain age. Guesstimate from vet was maybe 6 weeks. No idea how big she would get, but couldn't let her stay on the end of a piece of string in Hout Bay, being dragged around in 40 degree heat on a hot road. This practice of backyard breeding in the poorer communities is abhorrent but the animals have to be rescued, so if an attempt to snatch it and drive away without paying is successful, it is an act of mercy. Cleo cost R100.
She has grown into a 9kg couch dog, who loves to sleep behind your head on the pillow and is a devoted companion. A sweeter nature could not be asked for, and she has the intelligence of a border collie with the looks of a Pomeranian. The only downside to our doggie is the shedding. She sheds bucket loads of hair and a stray ray of sunlight peeking through a window will reveal that a large amount is floating in the air! A special dog hair vacuum cleaner had to be bought and the floors need to be mopped three times a week to collect the excess hair. Lint rollers are the most popular item on the shopping list, for every surface that is not floor. One can only imagine how much we breathe in.
But we will put up with anything for this delightful companion.
I occasionally take her into the mountains on a hike, where she regards herself as a sentinel, leaping up onto boulders to spy out the lie of the land before letting us pass by - giving us the all clear. She seldom leaves my heel, so close that I find myself calling her only to find her right behind me. My only fear is that she will go and investigate a snake, so I am very circumspect about her walks.
We found a similar dog in December, almost exact markings, size and age as when we got her. Unfortunately three other people were looking at him, and despite our entreaty to give Cleo a 'twin', the 'rescuer' decided to let him go to a home with three small children. Such was the disappointment that we have stopped looking for the moment. When the right dog appears, I hope it will be on our doorstep.

Up on the hill above the vineyards

A new hike for me today - Price Drive up to the silvertrees on the slopes of Vlakkenberg, overlooking the green and serene Constantia valley. We start earlier in summer to avoid the heat of the day, and last night we had a light drizzle and a southerly breeze with the odd cloud kept us cool most of the time. The trail doesn't appear to be used very often, as it is quite narrow in parts with encroaching bushes, and the occasional stripe of paint on a tree helped to keep us heading in the right direction. A large part of the walk is in the remains of a forest, with many huge, ancient oaks, and almost as many lying jumbled across the forest floor in various stages of decay, liberally decorated with fungi. We came across a most interesting specimen that I have certainly never seen, and this was identified later as the following: Octopus stinkhorn fungus, part of a large group of fungi called the Phallales. They smell absolutely disgusting and are covered in a dark slime on which flies love to feast. Luckily none of us sniffed the plants, but if we had known that they were disgusting, we may have just to experience it!

The sun got stronger as we left the shade of the trees, but the fynbos and young silvertrees, of which there are thankfully many, continued to protect us as we climbed steeply upwards. The raindrops clung to the vegetation, and looked particularly beautiful on the silky hairs of the silvertree, surely one of the most beloved of our indigenous trees. Another plant that dominated the trail was what seems to be a serruria, although I am not an expert in identification (nothing ever looks like the book), and many of them were dying, which is a cause for concern as the environmental conditions worsen steadily. 

From the highest point we had unparalleled views across the valley and Cape Flats to the far distant mountains, while below us the green, serried rows of vines creep ever higher as (apparently) the demand for Cape wines must be fulfilled. In a month or two the grapes will be harvested, the leaves will take on the gorgeous autumn hues, and then the slopes will be bare until next spring. 

A short, strenuous walk, to be repeated.

Filthy flies freak us out

Flies, flies flies! We are plagued by flies at the moment. Perhaps some holidaymakers without any sense of hygiene threw their picnic leftovers into the bushes where thousands of flies can feast and breed for weeks? Maybe the last of the crayfish bait was idly thrown among the rocks out of reach of other scavengers? Whatever the cause, the effect is of great concern as we battle it out every time any food is taken out of the fridge. It's a race to see whether the flies can land on it before preparation is complete and it's safely in the pot and they even have the cheek to settle on your plate or hand while you are actually eating. The nerve of today's flies!

Swatting is senseless in view of the numbers, and there are more leaves struck from the African violets than flies from the windowsill. I loathe insect sprays, and especially in a food area, but enough is enough and so everything was packed into the cupboards (where they should remain anyway), the dishwasher and the fridge, followed by a thorough wipe down of every surface with vinegar. Kills most things. My kitchen has never looked to spacious and neat. Oh, and all the animal bowls outside.

Out came the fly spray (you know, the one that will knock even the meanest monster out of the air instantly, to spiral to a certain death at your feet) and prepared for them to meet their doom. We all know that none of these sprays work, and He Who Can Fix Anything is adamant that they are not poisonous to humans (as She Who Knows Everything in This Household, I beg to differ). To ensure that we live another day, I snatched the can from his outstretched hand and sent him off to kill mosquitoes in the bedroom (a whole other story). 

I used a cloth to wave the multitude of flies towards the window, where they love to assemble after a meal, and then let them have it - a blast that covered the entire window and left them reeling and tumbling into the sink, where a handy stream of water from the tap sent them to a watery grave far, far away at the end of a pipe somewhere. Over the next half hour, flies continued to fall. They were vacuumed up and disposed of. My kitchen is spacious and neat. Every surface smells of vinegar. The deed is done.

Consumer cautions

Having been scammed on so many occasions in a supermarket, I feel compelled to share some basic tips on how to avoid being taken for a fool:

1. Don't buy prepackaged vegetables. The glossy, firm looking baby marrows on the top layer are cunningly concealing the yellowing, shrivelled second-grade marrows underneath. There is no way that it is not a deliberate act to put the inferior goods out of sight.

2. The same goes for meat. The top retailer in SA is as guilty as the rest of them. I bought a piece of steak which looked appetising and with minimal fat, only to find, on opening the pack, that the reverse side of the steak was basically the edge of the rump and mainly fat. Once again, absolutely a deliberate attempt to deceive.

3. Packaging is used to effect a price increase without increasing the price. Toothpaste is number one on the list, with the size of the tube being slightly reduced without changing the price so that it looks as though everything is the same. Old stock with the bigger tube is removed from the shelf so that there is nothing to draw the eye to a smaller quantity in the tube. The way to overcome this and reduce toothpaste sales is to only use the actual amount you need - adverts and the packaging show a lavish dollop of toothpaste covering the entire bristle section, but in actual fact, only a pea-sized amount of toothpaste is required to do the same job. Consumption can be reduced by 75% and you can leave the manufacturer wondering. Bacon is number two!

4. Bulk packaging is in general more expensive than regular sized products and a careful comparison of the price per unit of every size of pack will prove this, particularly in the domestic cleaning products. The "Great Value" printed on the pack is nothing but deliberate misinformation.

A little care and a good pair of glasses can save you quite a substantial amount over a period, as well as send a message back to the retailers that we are on to them!

A rainy walk to the wreck

Having made a rash statement about a cool January, we were (mis)treated to a scorcher of a day on Wednesday, then a cooler day yesterday and a promise of a drizzle today. Our hike took us the end of the plush and picturesque suburb of Llandudno. Our destination - via famed nudist beach (although slightly passe now, I would think), was the point overlooking the remains of the wreck of the Boss. It's a lovely walk on a cool day, with waves washing against smooth granite boulders jumbled along the shoreline, views to the horizon of shipping rounding the Cape of Good Hope and on a clear day like today, the white dunes up the West Coast.
No nudists were in evidence, it being cool and becoming cloudy and we enjoyed a relatively easy scramble up the hillside although loose rocks can be hazardous at times. We kept a weather eye on the line of cloud creeping in from the south west and it gradually became apparent that we were going to be caught in a massive cloudburst while on the most exposed part of the mountain. Waterproof jackets and windcheaters were donned, while I hauled out my trusty Heinz Baked Beans black bin bag (no photo here), and it proved to be the most waterproof of all, except for the channelling of the water from the hood straight down my front! The rain soon passed and we settled down for refreshments and drying out time before heading back. A longish walk of nearly 4 hours with a few stragglers holding us up, and we got rained on again just before reaching the cars. Most enjoyable!

A little story about Dad

When Dad was a teenager, he lived in Claremont, about 25km from Fish Hoek. On one particularly hot day, he and a friend decided to ride their bikes to the beach. Not Muizenberg, the closest beach, but Fish Hoek, a considerable way further along the road. Those of you who are unlucky enough not to be familiar with the Cape Peninsula may not appreciate the effort involved in a trip of that magnitude, and we who have grown up with the ease of use of trains, cars and other powered vehicles would never even contemplate riding a bike so far! But in those days, it was the only way youngsters could get around at no cost.

The ride from Wynberg down to Muizenberg was a very slight downhill slope and it got a bit hilly along the coast from Muizenberg to Fish Hoek, where sand flats were the order of the day. A fierce southeaster was blowing and it required pedal power to make progress against the wind. There were no fancy gears to help the rider, just strong legs.

After an invigorating and refreshing swim and relaxing on the beach, it was time to set off for home. The southeaster hadn't abated, and was so strong that it blew them all the way back home with almost less effort than on the way down. The problem was, by the time they got home, they needed another swim!

Starlight

When sleep evades us and the night hours are long, it is beneficial to go outside and gaze up at the stars and out into the universe far beyond, where we will perhaps get some perspective on how small and insignificant we are on our little planet. Our eyes cannot perceive more than about 3000 stars and our brains cannot comprehend the vastness of what lies out there. 

Tonight the clarity of the skies is awesome - no smoke from devastating wildfires, no wispy clouds scud between us and the stars. The air is cool and still, no twinkling of pinpricks of light reaching us from unimaginably faraway suns swirling endlessly in the arms of our spiral galaxy, the Milky Way - so called because where no man-made light pollutes the skies, the blackness of night is paled by billions of stars.

Such is their radiance that shadows are cast upon the ground and we can walk in starlight when there is no moon to light our way. It seems to me that, as the earth spins on its axis, we turn to face the centre of the Milky Way in the darkest hours so that the maximum starlight compensates for dusk and dawn, ensuring that we are never entirely in the dark. What a marvel is this universe that we know so little of and even less of our place in it.

Back in the swing

Different hiking group, same walk. We did the Silvermine River walk from the car park up to the dam, always a pleasant one and especially in summer when the shade from the tall trees is most welcome. This has turned out to be a particularly mild January, without the fierce heat we are used to, and long may it continue. Thin cloud overhead also kept the temperature down, and we even extended the hike a little by going around the dam instead of just across the wall. What a peaceful and pleasant place to be of a morning!
The rustic and rocky picnic sites were empty as kids are back at school, but a few brave youngsters were having a dip on the other side - I suspect the water was cold as they didn't exactly leap in. Yellow-billed ducks came to say hello as we crossed the bridge over the blooming waterlilies and we watched the blue dragonflies and small red ones as they hovered around over the flowers. A lone cormorant sat on a signpost, waiting for lunch.
This is not the best time of year for fynbos flowers, but we were still treated to some showy watsonias, protea cynaroides buds just waiting to burst, dark pink ericas and a beautiful little aristea dichotoma. Didn't have my camera, so no photos. You cannot win.
Best of all was a wonderful sighting of a pair of Cape Batis, delightful curious little birds with striking colouring and not at all nervous. Many other birds calling, but not clever enough to identify.