A brisk walk in the wind

The day started out cloudy and a little windy, but soon the wind had swung towards the south west and an invigorating walk along the boardwalk at Slangkop lighthouse beckoned. It was by no means cold, and the rough tumbling of the waves created a roar which was music to my ears, the endless motion of the ocean as it sweeps up to the coast of this Cape of Storms. The tide was low but the swell moved in strongly in an untidy manner and no surfers were evident. We passed no one on our walk - perhaps they had been earlier or thought it might be too cold.

The little vlei at the start of the boardwalk has already filled with water at this early stage of winter and if June is what it should be (sunny days), it may not be a good time for frogs to spawn as the water will soon dry up. We passed stretches of sandy patches where the white daisies that open in a brilliant display each Spring are already sprouting their leaves, and it looks as though our 'snow' of Spring will rival all previous years' magnificence.

A light buffeting in the wind (not the kind you eat) made walking pleasurable, not cold and not hot, the perfect conditions for a quick spin around the block. Monty (the dog) is getting old now and only goes out for the sniffing - he doesn't need the exercise! Susie stays at home - she is too nervous to walk in areas she is unfamiliar with now that she can't see, and I doubt whether pushing her in a wheelbarrow will help her sniff the messages! It could also get me a bad name (of course, I probably already have one, with my little woolly hat which makes me look slightly more than middle aged, I have been told!).

 How magnificent is this vista? I must have hundreds of them from all the walks over the years, and yet I keep on clicking away - it's just a view I never get tired of, with every wave a new one and every cloud a different shape.

Our English Adventure #8

For the first four or five months of our stay in Plymouth, we didn't have a car and so it was the bus for us. Dad intended to see and experience as much as possible in the few short years we would be in Britain, and so every weekend we were out and about, and coach tours were the way to do it. The season was going into winter, but the coach company operated on the summer schedule for reasons known only to themselves, and most times we departed from the depot in the dark, returning later to a similar situation. That is probably why my memories of Plymouth involve buses and travelling in the dark.

We explored the counties of Cornwall and Devon in this fashion, our travelling companions mostly being pairs of old ladies on a day out, wrapped up in warm coats and cosy hats even when the sun shone. The Cornish villages were simply stunning, with little fishing harbours and a few rows of neat houses up on the cliffs. Our ancestors can be traced back to the village of Corfe Castle in the 11th century, and I have always liked to imagine that one or two were pirates or smugglers! Looe and Polperro remain on my wish list to return one day.

The rocky promontories of Land's End were reminiscent of our own Cape Point, the south-western tip of the continent of Africa, which has its own fearsome seas, submerged rocks and lighthouses, but I think both headlands bear a similar brunt and it would be difficult to say which had the worst weather conditions.

The beaches were quite different to what we knew back home. Torquay was pebbles and the weather was freezing, but a woman actually went in for a swim and Mom said she had the biggest goosebumps she had ever seen.  Newquay was sand. When we arrived, the tide was out and a vast expanse of beach stretched away into the distance, but once the tide was in, it reached up to the cliff and there was no beach at all!

The tours included lunch (egg and chips, or baked beans and chips, or sausage and chips, but never all three) and I suspect that we were seeking shelter from the icy air rather than looking forward to lunch when we went into the cafe to eat. I suspect that little has changed on the bill of fare to this day.

To stave off car sickness on the journey, we would suck on our favourite sweets, Opal Fruits, which were similar to the Sugus back home, except bigger. I wonder if you can still get them?

Wanderlust

Wanderlust is a strong desire to explore and travel the world. Not everyone experiences wanderlust, but as I get closer and closer to shuffling off this mortal coil, I feel the need to be somewhere else while I am still able to travel. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? To me, a life less lived is no life at all and we are here to experience the good things of this world, and yet my adage is: For every thing there is a season. I know that when I have travelled it has been the right time, and soon it will be that time again.

Everything I am working on is with the aim of going back to places I have loved - I have done the reconnaisance trips (but with a different twist - identifying places to be avoided and places to be frequented, rather than an enemy) and I have a basis for planning a trip, rather than randomly hoping to chance upon something interesting. Invaluable advice on pitfalls and pleasures can be found in the blogs and websites of a multitude of talented and entertaining travelbugs at the click of a mouse. Much pain and drama can be avoided by heeding the words of these seasoned travellers, and if they say don't eat at certain places or take a particular mode of transport, there is a reason for it.

Living as I do in one of the most award-winning-for-beauty-and-all-things-tourism cities, Cape Town, you might think I'd grown accustomed to my surroundings, but for that very reason I have embarked on a journey of being a tourist myself, and am blogging my excursions with, hopefully, a foreigner's outlook on value for money, friendliness, service and the whole experience. I hope to build it up to become a site of value to visitors to Cape Town, in the way that other travel writers have contributed to millions around the world enjoying a trip away from home, even if it has just been as an armchair traveller.

An interesting afternoon

I accompanied a friend to the eye specialist today in case she had to have drops to dilate her pupils and wouldn't be keen to drive afterwards. Knowing that she has no vision in one eye and severe problems with the other, I asked nonchalantly whether she should be wearing her glasses when she drives, and she gaily replied that she should but they were in her bag. I immediately leaned over into the back to retrieve her bag and handed them to her. She agreed that things did look better!

After depositing her at the eye man, I took her smart little Fiat 500 over the road to Constantia Village to do some shopping and have coffee. The difference between her car and my middle-aged Golf was astounding. Power steering, pedals that respond to the lightest touch, a gear lever above waist level and the shortest gears ever, plus a reverse gear that responded to a fingertip made me realise why I am always exhausted after driving any distance. My foot cramped yesterday in the traffic because of the effort required to keep on using the clutch! I'm sure I have a ligament injury in my shoulder from heavy gear shifts and as for turning the wheel...! Perhaps it is time to upgrade slightly, even if it's just for the power steering.

The short latte from Seattle Coffee Company (my all-time favourite) had a considerable sprinkling of cocoa on top and I sat down at one of those bar tables with the high stools to enjoy it. The stool was made of some ergonomically designed shiny plastic with room for only the tiniest of backsides, possibly a size 8. While I am by no means obese, I found it impossible not to slide off this poorly thought out design, which was about the size of a dinner plate, and had to brace my foot against my shopping trolley to stay seated. Despite all this, I did enjoy the latte. I used the tiny paper serviette to wipe my lips of froth - I should perhaps have taken out a large mirror to do it.

After a stroll up and down the mall to pass the time, I went back to pick up my friend. The receptionist looked at me in a manner which I thought a little strange and hastened to tell her that I didn't have an appointment and was just there to pick someone up. I asked directions to the bathroom and when I got there and looked in the mirror, I saw that I had a streak of cocoa up my cheek, just like a large Nike tick! What a laugh! No wonder she had looked at me like that. The people in the mall must have also thought I was a bit odd, but at least I had finished with the shopping first!

I can see clearly now

Today I got my first pair of multifocals. All my life I have struggled with astigmatism, one eye that sees far and one eye that sees close by. I have always had glasses but battled with using two pairs for a start, and it got even worse once computers came on the scene and there was then a middle distance to cope with. For years and years I have only used my distance glasses for driving, due to the inconvenience of having to swop for the close pair, and most of the time I have just managed without. It's not that I can't see; I just can't see the details.

A whole new world has appeared before me, now that I have just one pair and can adjust my viewing with a droop of the eye, so to speak. Suddenly everything is in focus - I can see the individual leaves on the grass and the plants, the weave of the carpet I am standing on, a thousand more stars than I did before. I can see the tennis ball on the TV screen, instead of squinting to try and follow the game. I can read the score on the bottom line. I can see the temperature on the weather report (if I ever bother to turn to the news channel - doesn't really happen).

I can identify the birds in the trees and spot an unusual stone on the ground. I never knew there was so much detail I was missing out on. I can see wrinkles and laugh lines, read labels on the back of tins and packets (an absolute essential - I had to resort to using a magnifying glass over the last few months).

When I go to the mall I expect to be able to identify people I know from a distance, rather than having to bump into them before recognition kicks in. I haven't tried driving yet, but I have no doubt my poor night vision will be vastly improved, to the benefit of all concerned.

I just spotted the large rain spider that dropped off the ceiling onto a pile of canvases in the corner. I wasn't quick enough to catch him, so will keep mum about his presence, otherwise there'll be panic in the house. It's going to be really interesting when I start painting. I'll see my work in a whole new light and may be quite horrified at the gaps! Also beneficial to all concerned.

But the biggest discovery of all is what a poor housekeeper I am. Without the benefit of focused vision, I have never really seen how much dust there is on the cupboards, or the amount of general dirt that accumulates in a house full of animals. There will certainly be an improvement on the home front, although my ambitions still do not lie in becoming Housekeeper of the Year!

I've been told for years by my eye lady that I wouldn't be able to cope with multifocals, but a second opinion (at last) has opened up a whole new world for me, that I would never really have appreciated without the proper tools. I can only say that we should never accept any limitations in life and always look for a new solution.

Settling in

Mango Kitty and Mr Bigglesworth (sister and brother) started their new life together very cagily, but their days (and nights!) are now filled with maniacal charging about, sliding on rugs, rough and tumbling like wrestlers, seeing how far they can run across the furniture without touching the floor and occasionally stopping to claw up my leg (only Mango). It is bedlam when they are at it, and perfect peace when they eventually exhaust themselves and cuddle up on their blankets.


The animosity has given way to over-exuberance, but today we found them lying peacefully in the same kitty bed, licking each other! Later they went to sleep curled up against each other. I think it was a bit of a lull, as it is now late in the evening and they are thundering up and down the house, even using me as a springboard, claws out, so I am feeling a bit shredded right now. Perhaps I should have their claws clipped!

I have to say they are a source of great entertainment and amusement, and we are all very happy to have been able to give them a home away from the streets where they were found.

The wedding in Marbella - 2012

This is an excerpt from the book I am writing on our Spanish Adventure (for the wedding of my nephew and his Spanish bride, two years ago today):

Luxury coaches transported the guests to La Cabane, an upmarket (are there any others?) beach resort. What a spectacular venue on a spectacular evening. Not a ripple marred the rim pool in the centre of the courtyard as we gathered in groups awaiting the arrival of the bridal couple. To say that the atmosphere exceeded all expectations was an understatement.

 

  A wedding singer crooned expertly and unobtrusively as we were fed champagne and exquisite hors d’oeuvres, with the Mediterranean lapping gently along the shoreline not twenty feet from us. While the wedding ceremony was traditionally Spanish Catholic, the reception was South African, with meat instead of fish, and speeches, which apparently is not the norm at Spanish weddings. And so a happy compromise suited all.  A special guest at the wedding was Chucho Valdez, internationally acclaimed jazz pianist, who I was fortunate enough to share a table with, and he entertained us with a selection of his music – a real treat that was much appreciated by all, especially the bride and groom. I was even more fortunate to have a diplomat on the other side who was from Australia and so had the most fascinating evening, and in English too!

      

       At 12.30 the dancing started in a ballroom next door, and everyone went through to watch the bride dance with her father before being handed over to her husband. As soon as we stood up, the tables were cleared, carried away and all the chairs stacked up. They were taking no chances that people were not going to dance by ensuring that there was nowhere to sit, or so it seemed. It did work and the dancing went on till 4a.m., but unfortunately we had to take the first bus back to the hotel as we needed to get a few hours’ sleep before leaving for Malaga.

       As usual, I lay awake until 5 o’clock worrying whether I would wake up in time! I may as well have stayed to dance.