Hurray!!! The sun's come out...for a while anyway.
Woke up at 07h00 to the brightest blue sky in a while and made sure Steph felt me move around in the bed. Mind you, it's that fuckin' big that I had to just about jump on her side to make her feel anything. She was also glad to see the sun and we decided to get up and out before it went behind the clouds again.
By about 07h30 we're out the door to go find a spot to fish and walk along the beach, our first opportunity since arriving in Plett. We take the car as the estuary is quite a way from the flat, and park it next to a pub that looks inviting but we'll come back there sometime in the near future, I'm sure.
Get all the gear out the back, and it's onto the sand. A short walk around a point at the estuary mouth and I can see the water is flowing fast, seawards on the outgoing tide. Not a good sign as I'd rather have it on the slack or incoming tide (slack tide is the 20mins before and after the tide changes direction). We walk a bit up the sand and I tie on a spoon for Steph to cast on the little rod I bought her recently (so that she doesn't feel left out when I go off fishing). Her first couple of casts are a bit dodgy so I move out of her way in fear of losing an eye, or the jewels.
While she's practising, I get my saltwater fly kit set up and tie on a popper, but it's too light and I battle in the slight breeze. I resort instead to move into the channel as the water has dropped so quickly that we can now walk out about 50m where just a few minutes ago there had been a strong flow of water seawards. From where I'm standing, I can see Steph's getting the hang of casting and call her to join me and cast into the main current. It's still flowing fast and there's a lot of loose weed that entangles itself onto our hooks and generally makes the fishing unpleasant. So we decide to pack it up and go and sit on the beach and have a sandwich and iced tea. A tacky substitute for a breakfast, but we're out in the sun, enjoying the warmth for a change so who cares?
After a while we decide to move back to the flat and get showered. The power's still on, which is a bonus and we have some fresh coffee and an omelette.
Once we're showered, the clouds start moving in again, and I can just tell it's going to rain later. We go for a short drive and look around some of the houses in the neighbourhood. Man, there's some serious money around here. And 99% of the houses are all boarded or locked up, nothing more than holiday places in rich man's land. The size of some of these mansions, sitting quiet for 11 months or so out of the year, is quite sickening. Some people have just too fuckin' much of it...
We head out onto the highway, back towards Knysna where we'd seen a couple of roadside stalls that looked interesting, selling all kinds of "indigenous" wares. First stop is a lumber yard and farm store called The Heath, but there's not much to see in the wood section except for some lovely furniture that's way out of our league (someone should tell these people we want to buy their stuff, not pay the month's fuckin' rent). The food section, on the other hand, has a mediocre coffee and a great ostrich sausage roll (for me) and a piece of carrot cake and coffee (for Steph). The ostrich pie tasted a little like haggis, but it's probably just the way they minced the meat and added spices to flavour. Steph has more of my pie than her own cake, and we take the cake with us. The knick-knack shop has some interesting stuff and I find a nice salad server set and cheese and butter knives, with all the handles made of pewter.
After that, we head back on the highway again and stop off at a wine cellar...bad move. We come out with a case of wine (about R450 worth), mostly from the Orange River Valley. Really good wines, but we can't usually find them up beside us and when we do, the prices are ridiculous.
Our next stop was another lumber yard and these guys had some nice pieces of timber. The piece we both fancied was an Ironwood, lovely veins and some knots which added to the character of the piece. The fact that they weren't cut to square added to the feature of the piece as well. Only problem was...all the Ironwood had been hit by borer worm and there was holes from the worm visible on the surfaces. At least they'd been honest enough to leave them visible, as in Joburg they would have tried to cover them up with wood filler to seal them off. The decision was made that, because of the borer, we wouldn't buy the piece of lumber...such a pity, it was only R1,400, a really good price. There was also a one inch thick piece of Knysna Yellowwood, but I wanted a thicker piece of lumber, so we didn't take that either.
Our last stop was at The Potter and yes, they make pottery there. Steph ended up buying what is actually a water jug, as a holder to stand her kitchen utensils in (spatulas, whisk, etc) and a couple of small pieces for her sister's bathroom as a present. She's always buying stuff for her sister when we go on holiday. I don't discourage her from doing this, but it would be nice if her sister reciprocated once in a while.
While at The Potter, I noticed a sign on the door, reading "Lift Wanted to Sandton Area for small package. Enquire Rudy - The Potter". Intrigued, I had visions of smuggling diamonds or drugs in a brown-wrapped parcel to Joburg, running from the cops as they chased me down the highway and dirt roads (no fuckin' way I'd be able to escape them on the highway in the van). When I asked Rudy what the game was and did he still want a "runner", he said yes, he was still looking for someone, and when would I be able to deliver his two, five kilogram buckets of olives to Sandton? Huh...big fuckin' let down. Deliver yer own fuckin' olives Rudy. What kind of name is Rudy for a drug dealer anyway? Probably a poofter to boot as well...
Anyway...back towards Plett and we stop in to look at a little restaurant called Emily's Moon, which we'd heard about. A charming little place, funky decor, with door frames and artifacts imported from India. We book for dinner on Friday night and head back to the flat.
I stop off to see if there's anywhere I can park the car closer to an area of the estuary where the fishing might be easier than this morning and find a couple of promising spots. Must try them sometime. On the way back to the highway, Steph spots two horses in a field, one of them chasing after the car and then rolling on its back in the grass. She says she has an apple for them and we stop. I cut it in half with my trusty, ever-at-hand, Swiss Army knife and one of the beasts just about takes her left hand off when she doesn't feed it with her hand stretched out flat with the apple in her palm. Luckily it misses the apple on its first bite and I manage to shout to her to open her hand, while I shove the camera batteries in and take couple of photos before the horses run off.
Back in the flat, it's copying more music (26 albums so far) and a couple of glasses of 2004 Merlot from the wine cellar of Savannah (I never heard of it before either, but it's a tasty wine). Dinner is coming up shortly, roast chicken, potatoes and veggies...mmmmmmmm...
No doubt, we'll have a power cut later and have to sit in candlelight to read...or go to bed early for a change...
Get all the gear out the back, and it's onto the sand. A short walk around a point at the estuary mouth and I can see the water is flowing fast, seawards on the outgoing tide. Not a good sign as I'd rather have it on the slack or incoming tide (slack tide is the 20mins before and after the tide changes direction). We walk a bit up the sand and I tie on a spoon for Steph to cast on the little rod I bought her recently (so that she doesn't feel left out when I go off fishing). Her first couple of casts are a bit dodgy so I move out of her way in fear of losing an eye, or the jewels.
While she's practising, I get my saltwater fly kit set up and tie on a popper, but it's too light and I battle in the slight breeze. I resort instead to move into the channel as the water has dropped so quickly that we can now walk out about 50m where just a few minutes ago there had been a strong flow of water seawards. From where I'm standing, I can see Steph's getting the hang of casting and call her to join me and cast into the main current. It's still flowing fast and there's a lot of loose weed that entangles itself onto our hooks and generally makes the fishing unpleasant. So we decide to pack it up and go and sit on the beach and have a sandwich and iced tea. A tacky substitute for a breakfast, but we're out in the sun, enjoying the warmth for a change so who cares?
After a while we decide to move back to the flat and get showered. The power's still on, which is a bonus and we have some fresh coffee and an omelette.
Once we're showered, the clouds start moving in again, and I can just tell it's going to rain later. We go for a short drive and look around some of the houses in the neighbourhood. Man, there's some serious money around here. And 99% of the houses are all boarded or locked up, nothing more than holiday places in rich man's land. The size of some of these mansions, sitting quiet for 11 months or so out of the year, is quite sickening. Some people have just too fuckin' much of it...
We head out onto the highway, back towards Knysna where we'd seen a couple of roadside stalls that looked interesting, selling all kinds of "indigenous" wares. First stop is a lumber yard and farm store called The Heath, but there's not much to see in the wood section except for some lovely furniture that's way out of our league (someone should tell these people we want to buy their stuff, not pay the month's fuckin' rent). The food section, on the other hand, has a mediocre coffee and a great ostrich sausage roll (for me) and a piece of carrot cake and coffee (for Steph). The ostrich pie tasted a little like haggis, but it's probably just the way they minced the meat and added spices to flavour. Steph has more of my pie than her own cake, and we take the cake with us. The knick-knack shop has some interesting stuff and I find a nice salad server set and cheese and butter knives, with all the handles made of pewter.
After that, we head back on the highway again and stop off at a wine cellar...bad move. We come out with a case of wine (about R450 worth), mostly from the Orange River Valley. Really good wines, but we can't usually find them up beside us and when we do, the prices are ridiculous.
Our next stop was another lumber yard and these guys had some nice pieces of timber. The piece we both fancied was an Ironwood, lovely veins and some knots which added to the character of the piece. The fact that they weren't cut to square added to the feature of the piece as well. Only problem was...all the Ironwood had been hit by borer worm and there was holes from the worm visible on the surfaces. At least they'd been honest enough to leave them visible, as in Joburg they would have tried to cover them up with wood filler to seal them off. The decision was made that, because of the borer, we wouldn't buy the piece of lumber...such a pity, it was only R1,400, a really good price. There was also a one inch thick piece of Knysna Yellowwood, but I wanted a thicker piece of lumber, so we didn't take that either.
Our last stop was at The Potter and yes, they make pottery there. Steph ended up buying what is actually a water jug, as a holder to stand her kitchen utensils in (spatulas, whisk, etc) and a couple of small pieces for her sister's bathroom as a present. She's always buying stuff for her sister when we go on holiday. I don't discourage her from doing this, but it would be nice if her sister reciprocated once in a while.
While at The Potter, I noticed a sign on the door, reading "Lift Wanted to Sandton Area for small package. Enquire Rudy - The Potter". Intrigued, I had visions of smuggling diamonds or drugs in a brown-wrapped parcel to Joburg, running from the cops as they chased me down the highway and dirt roads (no fuckin' way I'd be able to escape them on the highway in the van). When I asked Rudy what the game was and did he still want a "runner", he said yes, he was still looking for someone, and when would I be able to deliver his two, five kilogram buckets of olives to Sandton? Huh...big fuckin' let down. Deliver yer own fuckin' olives Rudy. What kind of name is Rudy for a drug dealer anyway? Probably a poofter to boot as well...
Anyway...back towards Plett and we stop in to look at a little restaurant called Emily's Moon, which we'd heard about. A charming little place, funky decor, with door frames and artifacts imported from India. We book for dinner on Friday night and head back to the flat.
I stop off to see if there's anywhere I can park the car closer to an area of the estuary where the fishing might be easier than this morning and find a couple of promising spots. Must try them sometime. On the way back to the highway, Steph spots two horses in a field, one of them chasing after the car and then rolling on its back in the grass. She says she has an apple for them and we stop. I cut it in half with my trusty, ever-at-hand, Swiss Army knife and one of the beasts just about takes her left hand off when she doesn't feed it with her hand stretched out flat with the apple in her palm. Luckily it misses the apple on its first bite and I manage to shout to her to open her hand, while I shove the camera batteries in and take couple of photos before the horses run off.
Back in the flat, it's copying more music (26 albums so far) and a couple of glasses of 2004 Merlot from the wine cellar of Savannah (I never heard of it before either, but it's a tasty wine). Dinner is coming up shortly, roast chicken, potatoes and veggies...mmmmmmmm...
No doubt, we'll have a power cut later and have to sit in candlelight to read...or go to bed early for a change...
2 comments:
In the first place, if "IT" was so fucking big, you wouldn't have to jump on her side, you could just slap it at her from across the bed!
Second, trying to fish when the tides going out... - Dumb!
Going for the drive, buying the wine.... all good stuff. I know that area, and love it. Can spend days just going from "stall" to "stall". Great stuff and people.
2 x 5Kg buckets of olives? Mmm, were they depipped? could be that the "drug" was inside the olive! Did you think about that!
Rudy... yea, sound gay!
Meat eating horses... well now, methinks maybe your woman been eating veggies for too long and has now adopted the aroma of a green grocer, hence the horse wanting some of her.
Nice write.... Salagatle!
Steven: "Huh...big fuckin' let down. Deliver yer own fuckin' olives Rudy. What kind of name is Rudy for a drug dealer anyway? Probably a poofter to boot as well..."
lol - that's brilliant!
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