SO, kids, I already know what you're all going to say, but really, no need to hate, it's not always like this, nor has it always been. I'm off on a little road trip with two of my best gal buddies, so won't be able to post while I'm away for the next fortnight. How all this happened so fast is anybody's guess, suffice to say that some unsuspecting friend called to ask my advice on the Cinque Terre on the Ligurian coast of Italy where we were lucky enough to have had our big family holiday last year, and before you could say, "Bob's your auntie" she and her mum had booked and invited me to join them. (Some sales gal your Suzy Q hey?)
Come the weekend, and we three shall be leaving our husbands, children and cares behind. It promises to be a fun filled time of swimming, hiking, laughing, and eating fabulous Italian food and sampling the local village wines. We have an apartment so will be able to cater for ourselves with the freshest of ingredients from the little local deli and the mind blowing daily market where the most beautiful fruits and veggies and delectable buffalo mozzarellas and salamis are in tempting profusion. Pick 'n' Pay move over, why can't shopping for food always be so much fun?
We all have a few causes for concern, mostly to do with wine and men, contemplating having our aging (I swear I never once said "sagging") bottoms pinched at least once by those hunky Italian stallions, but my major concern is that we might just die laughing as I think we are going to have so much fun. What a wonderful opportunity for dear old friends who get together too seldom to have the chance to yak and yak without responsibilities and the usual distractions.
The Cinque Terre is a linked group of five picturesque villages along the cliffs above the Ligurian Sea, where I have had the most delightful swims of my life. There are walks of varying degrees of difficulty through vineyards and olive groves, offering the most spectacular sea views. Each village produces it's own wine, so we should be able to taste the odd one along the way, and luckily there is an excellent train service should we fall into bad company or a wine vat.
All this to say, I'll soon be on my way, once I've stocked the larder and done the usual detailed list of what needs to be done in my absence which will be totally ignored, and will be thinking of you all as we wend our merry way through the Cinque Terre. Please bear with me (forgive me?) and please please please don't forget me. I really do value all your loyal support and feedback so much. You never know, I may just be able to access an Internet Cafe I can manage to use to give you a holiday broadcast, otherwise I'll be back in the first week of October with all the stories and more, or does what happen on tour stay on tour!?
I've had fab team t-shirts printed for a laugh, and had such fun organizing and designing them with Kevin and Rusty from ReproClinic at the Valyland Centre in Fish Hoek. Call 021-7823750 if you need any reproduction work done for great art advice, value and service or email:print@reproclinic.co.za
Ciao bellissimo, Suzy Q (of The Three Cinque Terrors!) xx
I think I'm a dying breed, for I cannot put a cup of tea on a tray without laying a tray cloth there first. The trays I see nowadays are all laminated and infrequently used, whereas for me there is a a certain romanticism about the humble tray. Nothing like being served a cup of tea on the old kitchen tray by a loving family member with a favourite, but faded old tray cloth to remind one of day's gone by, or even better, a flute of bubbles on the white damask atop the shiny silver tray on a high day. We also have the "sick tray", a genuine relic rescued from my training hospital when it was refurbished, and stripped down to it's original wood with retractable legs so the patient can eat properly propped up in bed. Touch wood it hasn't been used much lately, but I think the little Miss SQ's sometimes used to feign illness for the privilege of of being thus spoilt. That was also the perfect opportunity to lay out bright and cheerful cloths, often from holidays, to cheer the patient into eating their boiled egg with soldiers.
My love of tray cloths probably started when I was a girl, however long ago that might have been, when we were routinely taught the rudiments of needlework. Lazy daisies were our staple, using needles called 'crewel' somewhat akin to our needlework mistress we reckoned. Funny to think in these days of gender equality that girls were assigned to the fine motor skills of needlework, whilst the lads got to bash nails into bits of wood in the name of woodwork, read into that what you will.
This got me to thinking of lazy daisies and the fun we had fine tuning our sewing skills in my schooldays. Sadly, like PT, these subjects seem to have been dropped from the curriculum, and whilst I have heard lots of excuses, I really can't understand why this should be so. Methinks too many administrative hassles for the teachers, but somebody must have heard Suzy Q moaning as PT at least is being reintroduced. Hooray, here's to the health of the younger generation.
Gotta love and give thanks to the special pre-school teachers my daughters were fortunate enough to have, whose inspired Mother's Day gifts remain amongst my greatest treasures. I'm speaking of course of tray cloths with potato, hand and leaf prints as well as primitive self images. As somebody who has just had a red letter day and experienced a life defining moment by paying our last school bill ever (hopefully) these sentimental treasures from pre-school days are a stark reminder of how fast the years have flown and how my babies have grown.
When I tell them how I have a few small things (including some of these charming relics from pre-school) stashed away for their bottom drawers, they howl with derision. They most certainly won't be scrimping and saving to set up house with a few rudimentary kitchen utensils, but will rather be buying their own penthouse apartments with the careers they have planned for themselves. Let's hope so.
I wonder what happened to the tray cloths I made with my first attempts at lazy daisies though? How I wish I could lay my hands on one of those now...
Your, ever sentimental,
Suzy Q
Hi again and please forgive delays in writing about our short stay at Rocherpan when we went up the West Coast to see the flowers last week - just been unbelievably busy, but here we go.
The road to Rocherpan was littered with temptations, as you may have gathered from my second last blog post, all good fun and no complaints, leaving me with yet another proudly South African feeling. Gotta love this beautiful country of ours and all the diverse people to which she's given rise.
www.capenature.co.za
We finally arrived safely, TG as that road seems to have quite a bad reputation, after passing through Velddrif and all the little holiday village developments along the way.Winona, the camp manageress was on hand to welcome us warmly and give us the camp drill. Somewhat mistakenly (mine) I had imagined us to be residing in a floral reserve, but Rocherpan is actually more famous for it's birds, especially the endangered Black Oystercatcher and is also a marine protection area.
No worries, we simply love being out in the country and enjoying Mother Nature in her purest form and loved the view of the sunset over the vlei with all the attendant birdlife. The cottages were a true delight in design and aesthetism as designed by architect Justin Cooke. My retirement home dream come true. Clean lines, economical use of space, eco friendly, and rather sexy in terms of tiling and fittings. Not so great if personal privacy is a priority however. As an "old married couple" we coped just fine, but had we shared the cottage with another couple or our teenage children, I doubt it would have worked, as the two beds are back to back with a small half screen, and the cute little bathroom is doorless with very little recess even for the dung fuelled loo. Hmm...?
Everything else was gorgeous, with a little terrace for a braai, though it beats me why they don't lay on just a little bit of wood, or even a few courtesy tea bags for your arrival, specially as many visitors are foreign tourists who don't have a kitchen cupboard to raid for a visit. The peace and privacy were sublime, to a point, as the four cottages are rather close to the road and during the night we could hear all the trucks thundering by. Why, when there is a whole nature reserve, are they situated there, we wondered but I am sure there are good reasons. I have infinite praise for Cape Nature and all the wonderful work they do, but I do have to query why there is a question called "Culture" on the entry form, which had already been filled in as "White" for us. Colour, my dear ones, should not be an issue or even a question within our new democracy. Would a Chinese person be required to call themselves "yellow" for heaven's sakes? C'mon, let's all be citizens of south Africa, please.
Come the beautiful morning dawning, woken by birdsong, we made our way down to the beach by car via the two bird hides. A lovely walk over the dunes brought us to one of those deliciously deserted beaches you see only in movies, but for once I was too tjoeps to swim there alone. We had to pack up to head back to the office anyway, with the excited intention of stopping in at Postberg as it was such a sunny, perfect flower viewing day. This was, after all, the reason for our sortie up the coast was it not?
As we headed over the hill towards Postberg, Mr SQ let out an expletive, and silly old me, I thought he was exclaiming at the sight of the fields of daisies we anticipated viewing. Alas and alack, it was the road filled with a long line of cars queueing to get entrance to the reserve. Somebody had obviously blabbed (gosh these blogs can be dangerous!) that the flowers were so fabulous this year, that hordes of day trippers had descended en masse, so we took a rain check and headed back to the school run instead.
Oh well, we had had a most enjoyable time, and had been fortunate enough to enter the reserve previously without waiting in line for an hour, only to sit bumper to bumper all the way through the flowers. I think I'm going to try to do the Postberg Walking Trail next year - any takers...?
www.sanparks.org
Lotsa love,
Suzy Q
