with our holiday happenings...so here's more to keep you enthralled.
Saturday 4th March
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Up at about 09h00, there's still power so there was no need for us to have kept hot coffee in the flask before bedtime. Ah well, you can never tell when it's going to go off...
I slept on my back the whole night as it is really uncomfortable to lie on my sides. When the skin creases, it's like fire through the folds. And as I was on my back, I must have been sleeping with my mouth open as I have a sore, dry throat to boot. Gittin' auld be a terrrribal thang, ah tell ya...
We go for a walk through a part of the Knysna forest, called Diepkloof Forest (Deep Cliff). Some of the trees here are hundreds of years old, and some of the rarest species in the country. A large number of Outeniqua Yellowwoods, as well as Real Yellowwoods (I don't know the difference either) and Ironwood trees are found on the walk, which is on a raised boardwalk so that you don't fall on your arse and sue the nice people running the place. It's all over in about 20 minutes though, as the village idiot on the front gate didn't tell us that they had blocked off part of the walk for maintenance on the boards. It must have cut out about two thirds of the total distance that could normally be walked. Ah well, it was nice and cool in the forest and I took some nice pictures of a brown stream flowing through it (caused by the natural pigments in the leaves and tree bark leeching into the water, and not by erosion, pollution or a township for a change).
We wanted to stop off at a local crafts market on the way back, but didn't make it in time as, unbeknownst to us, the market is only held between 8am and 12 noon. We got there at 12h15, just as everyone is packing away.
Instead, we go down into a little arts and crafts village on the outskirts of town, where Steph wants a look around a place called "Old Nick's". It is a real, old time jailhouse, converted to a house, then converted to a crafts shop. Right alongside it is a weaving mill, with a working old-time loom going full pelt. It's amazing to see how those old mechanical things could make something as fine as a cotton sheet, but it does. This one has been adapted slightly in that it now runs on an electric motor instead of people-power. The little spool that holds the cotton that is literally chucked back and forth by steel arms, I learned, is called a shuttle. Both ends of it are even shaped like the cockpit of that big steel thing the Americans throw up into the sky every now and then too, so I guess that may be where they got the name from.
After buying a few bits and pieces, we head in towards town and pick up a steak for a braai (barbecue) tonight, just the two of us on the verandah and another bottle of wine presumably.
Passing by a signboard showing the way to the beach, I remark to Steph that we should go and try "The Lookout" pub down there sometime for lunch. She says "why not now?" and with a swift ninety degree turn of the steering wheel, I think "why the hell not?" Between us we order a bluecheese salad, and a basket of calamari and chips, and two sideplates to share the fare between us. Yum...
Back in the flat by 16h00, it's time to just chill out a bit, do some reading and listen to some more "new" music.
Due to the long lunch, we have a later than usual dinner. Rump steak, mash, veg and gravy...yum.
We sit and read our books until about 23h00, and I turn on the telly for the first time since we got here. There's an Eddie Murphy movie on, The Distinguished Gentleman, which we sit and watch for something else to do for a change. At least, I watch it, Steph carries on reading. Eddie's not my favourite actor and, if I could, I'd shove that stupid laugh of his up his arse. Maybe then it would sound funny.
Bed time around 01h30, our latest night yet.
Sunday 5th March
================
I check my watch on the bedside table and...Wow...it's after 10h30. A solid 9 hours sleep, sunburn and all. The sunburn is still tight to the touch and having a shower is like having 40 grain sandpaper scrubbed all over your wiggly bits (I imagine). Steph has to dry my back off as I still can't reach around there.
We have a tasty "Bubble and Squeak" brunch and I settle down to copy more music and watch the cricket in the background. SABC3 is showing the one day game between SA and the Aussies (not "Ozzies" as I was originally going to write - can you imagine 11 Ozzy Osbourne's running around on a big field?). So far, it's a split game, but SA still have to bat.
Ok, so I've just finished copying the last of the 56 of Stan's CD's that I fancied. Do I feel bad about pirate-ing so many albums? Lemme think about it a second...no. Why not? Cos the record companies are the ones really ripping off the artists, not the guys that occasionally copy a CD. It's not often I do it anyway, it's more of a case of opportunity knocks. In any case, I have over 500 original titles in my collection at home, so it's not as though I don't do my bit for buying original titles as well.
SA lost the cricket by 24 runs. While it may sound like a close game, it was pretty one-sided as the Aussies knew the SA tail-enders couldn't keep up the slog they were on. The 5-game series is now 2-1 in favour of SA.
The rest of the day passes by uneventfully, reading and listening to music. We also watch a bit of telly, a nature program about a local guy who rehabilitates leopards, lions, and now Tigers, back into the wild. Some of it you can see is staged, but most of the footage is unrehearsed.
We also watch an episode of "My Family"...British humour at its best, I think. And with not much else on the idiot-box, we decide to go beddie-byes and read a while. About ten minutes is all I can handle and I start nodding off, so it's time for shut-eye.
Monday 6th March
================
Awake at 08h00, expecting the maid to ring the doorbell like a Swiss Cowbell concerto at any moment, but she only arrives around 08h30.
It's a magnificent day and, as it's to be our last in Plett before we move on up the coast, we get dressed and at about 09h30 go for a walk on the beach.
As the sunburn is still a bit painful, I kept my shirt on and draped a beachtowel over my shoulders to keep the rays off my tender, pink, body.
This time we walk left as we hit the beach, towards the Beacon Isle Hotel, which is a 5-star square block built on a chunk of rock right on the sea's edge. Any closer to the sea and your feet would be wet. It must have taken about a half hour to get down there and we found a nice shady spot to sit and watch the sea. We were so close to the water that spray would get blown across us now and then, keeping us nice and cool, as the ambient temperature must have been around the +30deg C mark.
Watching the sea, we can see a Cape Fur Seal at play, about 200m offshore. He's having a ball, wallowing around, turning his belly skyward and then diving, probably on the hunt for a meal. There's also a few noisy seagulls close to us, screeching (or whatever it's called that seagulls do) at us to throw them a morsel of the subs that Steph prepared before we left the flat.
We're back at the flat at around 12h00 and after a nice cold shower, I go and sit on the verandah lounger to read a bit. At the moment I'm reading a book I picked up in Edinburgh at the Rosslyn Chapel, called "Twisting The Hiram Key". In short, it's by the co-author of the earlier book, "The Hiram Key", who joins the Freemasons and subsequently writes this book exploring the spirituality side of the Craft. After about 10 minutes, I'm nodding off again, not that it's a boring book, but due to the fresh air from the walk. I don't sleep long though, as the maid's done with her work and out the door with a "Byeeeeeeee medem".
I read a few more pages and Steph says it's lunchtime. A good, tasty, salad of chickpeas, celery, sliced smoked chicken, peppers, tomatoes, cheese and some spices. Always a good meal...
Later on we might take a walk on another part of the beach, but we'll wait for the temperature to drop a bit first. Tonight we'll eat out somewhere so that we don't have the dishes to contend with on our last night in Plett, and we have to pack too...
And at this point, is where the power supply to my laptop decides to pack in. I came back to find the laptop strangely dead, even the battery had run out when the AC adapter went on the frizz. So I didn't even have enough time to shut the machine down properly. Luckily I'd saved the text file I was creating with the story of the holiday so I could still copy it to the blog.
What I can leave you with, is that we went up to Port Alfred the following day to investigate a business opportunity (which we've subsequently decided not to go for as it required a lot of investment with not much return to live on). We stayed at the resort where the opportunity was, for free, even though we insisted on paying for the night. Nice people, are Rob and Frieda, self-made millionaires...no wonder he could afford to buy that farm (fuckin' massive, it was).
The following day we drove up to my folks in Mtwalume, in the Kwa Zulu Natal province (about 70km south of Durban), stayed a few days there so that we could catch up. Dad and I went out for a deep sea fishing excursion and caught quite a few fish with me catching the largest, a 4kg Rock Cod (great to eat). With us was also the brother of a friend of the folks, an Englishman who was used to fishing for pike with a large chunk of metal in place of bait, so I don't think he was too impressed with the smelly squid and sardine bait we were using.
He even got the girlfriend of the boat skipper to put his bait on the hooks for him, believe it or not!! Anyway, it was a great day out for Dad and I, one I enjoyed thoroughly. Dad is a great fisherman, and it was good to rub it in that I'd caught more than he did...for a change.
After a few days, we drove back to Johannesburg, settled back in at the house with a Sunday to spare, before going back to work on the Monday morning. Sadly, I believe, two weeks is not sufficient for a decent holiday and in the future we'll take at least three weeks. At least it was good to get out of Jo'burg for a bit.
We go for a walk through a part of the Knysna forest, called Diepkloof Forest (Deep Cliff). Some of the trees here are hundreds of years old, and some of the rarest species in the country. A large number of Outeniqua Yellowwoods, as well as Real Yellowwoods (I don't know the difference either) and Ironwood trees are found on the walk, which is on a raised boardwalk so that you don't fall on your arse and sue the nice people running the place. It's all over in about 20 minutes though, as the village idiot on the front gate didn't tell us that they had blocked off part of the walk for maintenance on the boards. It must have cut out about two thirds of the total distance that could normally be walked. Ah well, it was nice and cool in the forest and I took some nice pictures of a brown stream flowing through it (caused by the natural pigments in the leaves and tree bark leeching into the water, and not by erosion, pollution or a township for a change).
We wanted to stop off at a local crafts market on the way back, but didn't make it in time as, unbeknownst to us, the market is only held between 8am and 12 noon. We got there at 12h15, just as everyone is packing away.
Instead, we go down into a little arts and crafts village on the outskirts of town, where Steph wants a look around a place called "Old Nick's". It is a real, old time jailhouse, converted to a house, then converted to a crafts shop. Right alongside it is a weaving mill, with a working old-time loom going full pelt. It's amazing to see how those old mechanical things could make something as fine as a cotton sheet, but it does. This one has been adapted slightly in that it now runs on an electric motor instead of people-power. The little spool that holds the cotton that is literally chucked back and forth by steel arms, I learned, is called a shuttle. Both ends of it are even shaped like the cockpit of that big steel thing the Americans throw up into the sky every now and then too, so I guess that may be where they got the name from.
After buying a few bits and pieces, we head in towards town and pick up a steak for a braai (barbecue) tonight, just the two of us on the verandah and another bottle of wine presumably.
Passing by a signboard showing the way to the beach, I remark to Steph that we should go and try "The Lookout" pub down there sometime for lunch. She says "why not now?" and with a swift ninety degree turn of the steering wheel, I think "why the hell not?" Between us we order a bluecheese salad, and a basket of calamari and chips, and two sideplates to share the fare between us. Yum...
Back in the flat by 16h00, it's time to just chill out a bit, do some reading and listen to some more "new" music.
Due to the long lunch, we have a later than usual dinner. Rump steak, mash, veg and gravy...yum.
We sit and read our books until about 23h00, and I turn on the telly for the first time since we got here. There's an Eddie Murphy movie on, The Distinguished Gentleman, which we sit and watch for something else to do for a change. At least, I watch it, Steph carries on reading. Eddie's not my favourite actor and, if I could, I'd shove that stupid laugh of his up his arse. Maybe then it would sound funny.
Bed time around 01h30, our latest night yet.
Sunday 5th March
================
I check my watch on the bedside table and...Wow...it's after 10h30. A solid 9 hours sleep, sunburn and all. The sunburn is still tight to the touch and having a shower is like having 40 grain sandpaper scrubbed all over your wiggly bits (I imagine). Steph has to dry my back off as I still can't reach around there.
We have a tasty "Bubble and Squeak" brunch and I settle down to copy more music and watch the cricket in the background. SABC3 is showing the one day game between SA and the Aussies (not "Ozzies" as I was originally going to write - can you imagine 11 Ozzy Osbourne's running around on a big field?). So far, it's a split game, but SA still have to bat.
Ok, so I've just finished copying the last of the 56 of Stan's CD's that I fancied. Do I feel bad about pirate-ing so many albums? Lemme think about it a second...no. Why not? Cos the record companies are the ones really ripping off the artists, not the guys that occasionally copy a CD. It's not often I do it anyway, it's more of a case of opportunity knocks. In any case, I have over 500 original titles in my collection at home, so it's not as though I don't do my bit for buying original titles as well.
SA lost the cricket by 24 runs. While it may sound like a close game, it was pretty one-sided as the Aussies knew the SA tail-enders couldn't keep up the slog they were on. The 5-game series is now 2-1 in favour of SA.
The rest of the day passes by uneventfully, reading and listening to music. We also watch a bit of telly, a nature program about a local guy who rehabilitates leopards, lions, and now Tigers, back into the wild. Some of it you can see is staged, but most of the footage is unrehearsed.
We also watch an episode of "My Family"...British humour at its best, I think. And with not much else on the idiot-box, we decide to go beddie-byes and read a while. About ten minutes is all I can handle and I start nodding off, so it's time for shut-eye.
Monday 6th March
================
Awake at 08h00, expecting the maid to ring the doorbell like a Swiss Cowbell concerto at any moment, but she only arrives around 08h30.
It's a magnificent day and, as it's to be our last in Plett before we move on up the coast, we get dressed and at about 09h30 go for a walk on the beach.
As the sunburn is still a bit painful, I kept my shirt on and draped a beachtowel over my shoulders to keep the rays off my tender, pink, body.
This time we walk left as we hit the beach, towards the Beacon Isle Hotel, which is a 5-star square block built on a chunk of rock right on the sea's edge. Any closer to the sea and your feet would be wet. It must have taken about a half hour to get down there and we found a nice shady spot to sit and watch the sea. We were so close to the water that spray would get blown across us now and then, keeping us nice and cool, as the ambient temperature must have been around the +30deg C mark.
Watching the sea, we can see a Cape Fur Seal at play, about 200m offshore. He's having a ball, wallowing around, turning his belly skyward and then diving, probably on the hunt for a meal. There's also a few noisy seagulls close to us, screeching (or whatever it's called that seagulls do) at us to throw them a morsel of the subs that Steph prepared before we left the flat.
We're back at the flat at around 12h00 and after a nice cold shower, I go and sit on the verandah lounger to read a bit. At the moment I'm reading a book I picked up in Edinburgh at the Rosslyn Chapel, called "Twisting The Hiram Key". In short, it's by the co-author of the earlier book, "The Hiram Key", who joins the Freemasons and subsequently writes this book exploring the spirituality side of the Craft. After about 10 minutes, I'm nodding off again, not that it's a boring book, but due to the fresh air from the walk. I don't sleep long though, as the maid's done with her work and out the door with a "Byeeeeeeee medem".
I read a few more pages and Steph says it's lunchtime. A good, tasty, salad of chickpeas, celery, sliced smoked chicken, peppers, tomatoes, cheese and some spices. Always a good meal...
Later on we might take a walk on another part of the beach, but we'll wait for the temperature to drop a bit first. Tonight we'll eat out somewhere so that we don't have the dishes to contend with on our last night in Plett, and we have to pack too...
And at this point, is where the power supply to my laptop decides to pack in. I came back to find the laptop strangely dead, even the battery had run out when the AC adapter went on the frizz. So I didn't even have enough time to shut the machine down properly. Luckily I'd saved the text file I was creating with the story of the holiday so I could still copy it to the blog.
What I can leave you with, is that we went up to Port Alfred the following day to investigate a business opportunity (which we've subsequently decided not to go for as it required a lot of investment with not much return to live on). We stayed at the resort where the opportunity was, for free, even though we insisted on paying for the night. Nice people, are Rob and Frieda, self-made millionaires...no wonder he could afford to buy that farm (fuckin' massive, it was).
The following day we drove up to my folks in Mtwalume, in the Kwa Zulu Natal province (about 70km south of Durban), stayed a few days there so that we could catch up. Dad and I went out for a deep sea fishing excursion and caught quite a few fish with me catching the largest, a 4kg Rock Cod (great to eat). With us was also the brother of a friend of the folks, an Englishman who was used to fishing for pike with a large chunk of metal in place of bait, so I don't think he was too impressed with the smelly squid and sardine bait we were using. 
He even got the girlfriend of the boat skipper to put his bait on the hooks for him, believe it or not!! Anyway, it was a great day out for Dad and I, one I enjoyed thoroughly. Dad is a great fisherman, and it was good to rub it in that I'd caught more than he did...for a change.
After a few days, we drove back to Johannesburg, settled back in at the house with a Sunday to spare, before going back to work on the Monday morning. Sadly, I believe, two weeks is not sufficient for a decent holiday and in the future we'll take at least three weeks. At least it was good to get out of Jo'burg for a bit.
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