Anyhow that seems ages ago as back here in Cape Town as we
are now languishing in a rather splendid guest house and are being Cape Town
tourists; we spent a whole day in the Kirstenbosch National Botanical Gardens
(see www.sanbi.org) which are on the eastern slopes of Table Mountain. The
gardens are about five and half square kilometres in size and houses amongst
other things a research centre, environmental education centre, an exhibition
centre that was hosting the fabulous ‘Untamed’
exhibition which conjoined the work of Dylan Lewis (sculptor), Enrico
Daffonchio (architect) and Ian McCallum (psychologist). The gardens were also playing host to a group of
students who were dressed as individually as they could muster to show they
were all individuals which homogenised them straight away….bless. Students are
the same the world over, these like any others were being ‘outrageous’ and not
caring what us old gits were thinking or doing as long as we were outraged. It made me think of my lovely Kate, I hope
she is out being outrageous. As we were in the city we also decided to avail
ourselves of a bit of culture and went to see ‘Midsummers Night Dream’ which
was playing at the Artscape theatre. We
did our usual getting lost on route, but by virtue of our gift for just ending
up in the right place we drove the wrong way (‘we’ being me) into a car park
designated for theatre staff and patrons, luckily the watchman was generous
enough to see that as we were there and it was hassle to drive out again for a
small fee he let us stay. The production of ‘Midsummers Night Dream’ was ‘contemporary’;
the first half was slightly confusing as the actors had to act alongside laser
lights accompanied by high pitched voices (which were supposed to represent fairy
folk) and the stage got busy enough to set off an epileptic. The second half
saw most of the actors rolling around on the floor and stripped to their very
flimsy underwear, most of the references to Bottom alluded to the fact he now
had a huge donkey sized penis. All a bit odd but the enthusiasm with which they
acted made it highly entertaining. Afterwards we retreated to the luxury of the
guest house and the free evening glasses of port and chocolates. On our last night staying at Jambo guest house
we had drinks with Mina and Barry and met some of their friends, these were two
elderly (78 and 79) Brits from ‘sarf’ London whose names were Ernie and Carol.
Ernie used to be a dress designer and ‘knew
everybody darling’ ; he was extremely camp but still took the chance of
rubbing up against my arse when I tried to get past him to sit on the sofa. I
generously decided to put his friskiness down to the fact he had a bolly eye so
perhaps couldn’t see too well and I thought he might have Alzheimer’s. No not because only men with Alzheimer
disease might want to be inappropriately frisky but he had real trouble
remembering our names, where he had put his drink, his pizza and his car keys. Upon leaving Jambo Guest House the following
morning we had perfect weather for
a spot of hill-walking . This sounds
more adventurous that it is as there is a steep but very accessible route up
the Platteklip gorge which goes all the way to the top of Table mountain, you
do need to be reasonably
fit though as the mountain stands 1,086 metres
(3,563 ft) tall.
Friday
20th April
We are
back camping and are in a place called Millers Point, this is on the north east
side of Cape Point, it is fucking windy as fuck. It is too windy to cook food
so we are having crisp butties and drinking beer, nice one. The view is pretty
good though as we are right on the Indian ocean and we have penguins and
baboons for company, I don’t like the baboons.
The penguins are funny creatures, they have pinkish fur around their
eyes and they come up really close to you and smell a bit (though not as bad as
the seals).
Ah but
I am getting ahead of myself….sorry…in between getting here we went to stay
with the der der derdle der……. SHARPEY-SHAFFERS! …..yes these people really do
deserve capital letters. John is a world
famous super-duper nuclear physicist into all sorts of splitting atom type shenanigans
and Sylvia is a retired nursing sister and one time Liverpool City Councillor who
worked her socks off during the 80’s (time of the infamous Derek Hatton!)
Meeting them separately would be an eye and ear popping experience but together
they are like a tsunami of intelligence, intense, provocative, funny, generous
and absolutely fabulous. They reside in
a posh suburb of Somerset West, as their guests we have been given an ensuite
room of our own and are encouraged to come and go as we please, use the pool,
walk in the garden and just chill out. I did have a swim in the pool but it was
one of those ‘ice lolly up your bum experiences so haven’t been in again.
John
and Sylv are supposed to be retired but in reality are busy doing research,
writing papers, reviewing faculty standards (John) and volunteering and
fundraising for the local hospice and in local library (Sylv). They are great hosts, they carry on more or
less with their schedule and we with ours and we bump into each other at
mealtimes. We take it in turns to cook
and James gets nicely drunk with John whereupon they grumble about bossy women
(me and Sylv) , meanwhile me and Sylv talk about the NHS, Liverpool, Eddie
Izzard and costume dramas. Sylv can talk as fast as machine gun, she is sharp
witted and doesn’t suffer fools at all.
While here went with Sylv to the cinema to see ‘The best marigold hotel’
(gentle love/comedy with Judy Dench and other glitterati I can’t remember the
names of) and a local amateur production called ‘Dirty Money’, the latter was surprisingly
quite agreeable. The production was in the local community theatre, all white
SAFA respectability it was a caricature night out enjoying what the well-to-do do. John didn’t come to either social events
instead he harrumped and grumbled and disappeared into his study to complete a
research paper.
We only
intended on staying a few days with the Sharpey-Schaffers as we didn’t want to
impose but the day we left they surprised us both by asking us to stay longer,
we couldn’t as we wanted to wander back out into the wilderness but we did
promise to come back to them before going home. We were so touched by their kindness,
we had only been able to meet them at all through the random act of kindness of
a mutual friend of mine (Pam) back home. John said ‘well you know we stay with other people as I travel a lot and it all
works out you know, the helping just gets passed around’. He should know he
is super scientific and probably has an equation to support this statement.
But
that was last night, and here on the windy enough to bend the tent poles coast
we have made a plan, this involved walking on Cape Point then heading up the
West Coast of South Africa to the Cederburg mountains. James was a very happy
bunny.
Once
again we set off down the road and this time headed up the coast north of Cape
Town, stopped at a municipal campsite just off the beach at Yzerfontein then
went on to Langerbaan right on the beach,
the coast is stunning but the water is too cold to swim in. Penguins
like it though. We carried on to Titties Bai, which has a huge camp site right
on the beach, apart from two other campers we had the place to ourselves.
About
1.30 a.m. I heard footsteps outside the tent, James said it was the wind. I
knew it wasn’t, suddenly it just didn’t feel safe, I always go with my
instincts so decided to stay in the car then if anyone was about I could scare
them away with the horn and save James. I felt very heroic doing this, James
thought I was batty and slept soundly all night.
April
26th 2012
We are
in the Cedarburg mountains staying at Algeria camp. We are camping beneath
massive eucalyptus trees as nearly all the cedars are gone, on the first night
there was a huge storm, the winds were incredibly strong and the hail stones
were as big as marbles!
So far
we have walked up but didn’t actually find a nearby waterfall, we got lost and although
we could hear it we couldn’t find the bloody thing, we gave up in the end and
wombled about in the sunshine. We have
also been off to the caves at Stadsall, this is 40k from the campsite along a
road that takes you through passes and mountains, as you get closer to the
caves you encounter sandstone rocks that have been shaped by the weather so
look surreal and whimsical. The ‘caves’
themselves look like fantastic constructions of cinder toffee that you can walk
around and through, you can touch some of them though not the ones with paintings
in as these are fenced off. James is
very chuffed. We brewed up a coffee by the cave with the elephant paintings and
just enjoyed the big space.
30th
April 2012
We have
made it to a place called Beaverlac, this is a nature reserve on top of a
mountain near to Portersville, the drive up here was a bit scary as the weather
had ‘turned bandit’ and we had to drive up the steep pass with hardly any
visibility. We almost turned back at the entrance to the camp but decided to
make the effort to at least have a look. The track back down the mountain into the camp
was really only fit for a four wheel drive and Milo bumped along until we found
ourselves at the camp and surprisingly into the sunshine. We have been talking s
about whether we are selling Milo or shipping him home, I would rather take him
home. Selling him just feels wrong and Tim (James’ friend) is faffing us about
so I can’t figure out if he is serious or not. If Milo comes home it will feel
like the adventure is carrying on….James is keen to sell though as we will be
pretty skint when we get back. The saga
of the sale now includes the involvement of Johan (a Pentecostal minister) who
was sure he wanted to Milo but as it turns out did not want to pay the asking
price, instead he insisted that God needed the car so he could carry on his
work converting the San people, I decided the San people had had enough done to
them so I refused to sell it to him. Anyhow blah blah blah, the thing is it is
proving difficult to sell Milo because of the import duty; I have finally
untangled conflicting information about importing Milo on a Temporary Import Document
(which is worthless) and the only way for a purchaser to avoid a huge import
duty is for Milo to continue to run on a carnet. This means any purchaserhas to get
their own carnet for Milo and run him on that, that way he remains a temporary
import so attracts no import duty. We also have to get Milo properly stamped
out of SA, which is great isn’t it as he hasn’t been stamped in. A friend of James, Tim, is living and working in SA and wants to buy Milo but he and
James are fannying around so much we may run out of time which is doing my head in.
Spoke
to Kate, she has submitted her Uni work so all is well, we are gearing up to
meeting up soon and I am so excited by this I babble like an idiot at her down
the phone.
May 2nd
2012
We are
back at the Sharpey-Shaffers. We fly home tomorrow. We stayed for 3 nights at Beaverlac and
walked/climbed along the leopard trail which followed the river to hidden pools
and waterfalls, then wandered along the
yellow fish trail to the ‘big rocks’ and yellow river. We had braied steaks and drank beer and I
read to James at night. Beaverlac was our last taste of wilderness and camping
before going home, I got tearful and made James promise this wouldn’t be our
last adventure. I don’t want this
feeling I have to end, the feeling of wonderment I have of the planet and
realisation how much I love the human race, how glad I am to be alive.
Meanwhile we share what is left of our time with the Sharpey-Shaffers, their intense,
intelligent, honest and challenging
company is a raw and rewarding experience.
They have a fine honed sharp banter that threads its way through their
daily routines . Theirs is a relationship that thrives on the rapier wit and
intelligence of the other, they are wonderfully funny and human. Last night
while I sat in the big lounge downstairs writing this journal I overheard John
asking Sylv if they can have the fire lit in the lounge (it is Autumn and there
is a chill in the air) and she says ‘absolutely
not’. He was crestfallen, but she
was adamant. When he had gone off to his
study she explained over a cup of tea that if they light a fire the smoke
drifts up the chimney breast (as there is no mantelpiece) and blackens the
newly painted walls. The last time they had a fire John had promised to clean
off the soot, he hadn’t kept his promise and Slyv had to clean up so until he
made an effort there would be no fire. I wandered downstairs to catch up on
emails and stuff and a little while later could hear Sylv making the fire
before she went out to one of her volunteering groups, this was followed by
John going upstairs and upon spotting the fire exclaimed ‘Oh Sylv, oh you a genius , oh you are so kind, oh how wonderful, oh
Sylv a fire you are so kind..’ It was so lovely to hear him and later that
evening when we all sat by Sylv’s ‘kind
fire’ watching football on the telly
(they are both footie mad) he had the biggest smile sitting close to the hearth
and drinking wine with James. Ah. As the evening progressed James and John got
quite drunk on some very fine red wines and John began to sing his school song,
after he finished he said, ‘ how strange
I can remember all the words, and it is bloody tripe too’. I said ‘Yes
but you are a strange man John’. ‘Yes’
he said ‘I am even strange to myself’ hee
hee hee! Then Sylv chipped in with ‘I
was the first person to discover tectonic plates in San Francisco. I just saw
how they had been caused on the map when I was in school. I didn’t say anything
as I didn’t think anyone would understand. And John now full of the wine,
the warmth from the ‘kind fire’ smiled at James and I and agreed it must be
true because ‘It all comes to do with
seeing patterns you know and Sylv is a pattern maker’.
Today
we helped Sylv tidy up her garage (which is also her storeroom for gifts that
she sells to raise funds for the hospice), helping wasn’t easy as the contents
were stored like her conversations (all over the place) and although she wanted
us to help she wasn’t the best at giving clear instructions. Still we shifted
and lifted and then James found out some stuff that would help stop any
flooding getting into the garage, she were right pleased with us.
Friday
May 4th 2012
Well
today is our last day. Tim finally stopped faffing and bought Milo yesterday.
When we handed him over I just stood and cried, Milo had been our home, our
transport, our kitchen and our place of safety the whole time we had been
travelling. To Tim’s credit he was very understanding about how attached I was
to him and told me he had cried over the loss of one of his motorbikes. Anyhow
back at the Sharpey-Shafers we gave our bed/kitchen and clothes away to Archie (who
is John and Sylv’s gardener) which left us with only two bags of stuff to take
home. The bags are rammed to the brim with our few clothes, first aid box,
James’ tools and most importantly presents for Kate. I have managed to buy her
something in every country, a cartouche from Egypt, a wooden necklace from
Sudan, baboon tailed hat from Ethiopia, an elephant ornament from Kenya, a
porcupine quill necklace from Uganda, a shawl from Tanzania/Zanzibar, a
tinjenza from Malawi, a bracelet from Zambia, a doll form Namibia, a beaded
choker from South Africa. As I bring each trinket to mind I remember the events
around me buying them….the haggling with the Egyptians for the cartouche drove
me mad….the pride with which the South African lady sold me her hand made
choker. Packing each away amongst our belongings is like storing away part of
myself; I am sure James thinks I am being a bit precious over this stuff but
keeping them safe till we get home somehow makes me believe that when I get
back I won’t forget that I have been to these places and had my big adventure,
it is too easy to slip back into life and forget that I have been someone else
living another life.
While I
write these final words in my journal I listen to the goings on in the house,
poor John is stressed as the software on his computer didn’t allow him to
complete the diagrams for his paper, and one of his PhD students is off track
with his research. I feel for him it seems that the same problems associated
with writing and publishing research papers are the same no matter who you are.
Sylv has just come back from volunteering and is brewing up a cuppa, James is
going through our documents to make sure we have passports and stuff ready. I realise that I am tired, I didn’t sleep well
last night. Kate, is uppermost in my thoughts, it will be the best thing ever
to be with her again. Then there is the rest of our families to catch up with,
three weddings to go to this summer….and work there is work to get back into.
How hard is it all going to be? I want
to nurture what Africa has brought into my life, I want to be able to draw on
the strength I have gained through finding out I could travel in the way I
have, I want to hold the trust I have in the Universe to keep my feet moving
and my heart and mind opening to the world. We live in such a magnificent
place, but the fact that we too are magnificent it is a lesson worth learning
and sharing. James and I took our chance and had an adventure and by doings so we
returned to the essence of who and what we are, humans in paradise.
