I LOVE A RAINY DAY!

PE has a reputation for being the "4 seasons in 1 day" city.... so rapid changes from 1 extreme to the other are no surprise to us. Funnily enough, our climate is actually relatively mild, in terms of heat and cold, we never get snow and whine if it goes below 6 degrees C, likewise if it is hovering at 30 degrees C we are swanning around feeling the heat, so the label might be a bit misleading.

Having said that, it is true that in PE, we get into the habit of dressing in layers, that can be peeled off or added on as needed, because we never quite know what the day is going to turn out like. Yesterday seemed like a standard, slightly drizzly day. As a point of reference I have included this picture of how a normal rainy day looks from our dining room window, taken around this time last year....



But yesterday around 9am, after the sun had already been up for over 3 hours, A belt of mist came across and it suddenly got so dark that the streetlights came on. It is the first time I can remember that happening in the morning, since we got here 30 years ago, it was VERY dark.



We couldn't see the little church down the road at all. Even the street lights were barely visible!



It cleared slightly, and the cold front was clearly visible curving across the sky, with a tumbling mass of clouds below it on the horizon.



As you can see from the grass in the park, it has been quite dry lately.This was taken at 9.18 am, just as the heavens opened in earnest, thunder, lightening, the whole 9 yards.



By 9.47 the park looked like this....



Throughout the day there were warnings on the local radio station of high winds, hail and heavy rain, road closures and traffic accidents, as we followed its progress across the region. Today it is cold and very windy, and the mop-up begins! So much for spring ..... Think I'll curl up with a book, a cup of coffee and a couple of cats on my lap..... !

......Nothing like a bit of escapism when it seems that the world around you is going completely mad! In the midst of all the hectic activity in our lives, running from one art exhibition and neighbourhood watch meeting or late night patrol to the next, we woke up one morning recently to find our State President had been fired... Now don't get me wrong, he was pretty useless, and spent so little time in South Africa that he was totally out of touch with what was going on here, but in comparison with the alternative, he was a way better proposition. It has been nothing short of disgusting (not to mention a little discouraging) to see the ANC wrangle and tangle, with no regard for the country that elected it, in order for a few leaders to get themselves out of legal hot water, and establish their power bases. With the unbelievable situation in Zimbabwe dragging itself out to the North of us, and the economy free-falling, it seems like the former sane and stable part of Africa is on the brink of becoming like the rest of the continent.

But wait, who is this knight in shining armour we see riding over the horizon? And he seems to have a jovial companion in a purple robe......
Looks like former defense minister Mosioua Lekota and Archbishop Desmond Tutu have had enough! They have taken a stand against what the ANC is doing, and have spoken out against all the members who are so busy chasing their personal agendas at the expense of the Nation. Good for these courageous men, all strength to them as they try and turn the tide of political self interest that is sweeping our nation!

In the meantime, kettle is on, where's my book? ..... come kitties.....

Spring? You coulda fooled me!!

We have had an interesting couple of days, so the rest of the trip to Capetown is still on hold.

A massive cold front swept through the southern part of the country, causing havok along the coast. As you might know by now, I ADORE foul weather, so I have been running around since Sunday like a kid in a candy store, snapping away and trying to capture images that convey the conditions. In the process I discovered a fascinating place and met one of life's unique people.

On Sunday Mr Farty and I bundled up warmly (not warmly enough if his hunched shoulders were anything to go by!!!)

..... and went out in the howling gale to see what the sea was up to. As the storm coincided with very high spring tides, warnings had been issued about rough seas and freak waves. Even as we were leaving home in Richmond Hill, we could see that the breakwater was taking a pounding.

Usually a pretty good gauge of the waves is the New Brighton Pier. On normal days you will see fishermen all along its length, and the pier is high above water level, but on Sunday the waves were engulfing it as they rolled by.

On Monday it was WAY worse, see our Spring Day post on Port Elizabeth Daily Photo for some spectacular shots taken from the freeway.

Because there was an offshore wind, the breakers were being whipped back and the spray was catching the lowering sun, and making lovely rainbow colours.

We went along to Kings Beach. Beach? What beach? The water was all the way up to the access road!

.... and the sand was blasting off the top of the dunes. The lifeguards tower was wallowing forlornly in the water.

Further along Restaurante de Mauro was taking a hammering too, and the spray being whipped off the waves was really beautiful.

Returning home, we spotted a huge flock of terns circling above Kings Beach.

The following day dawned cold and clear, and Max phoned to say the news was mentioning that there was snow in the Eastern Cape. On an impulse, I phoned K and asked if she and wee E would like to go off looking for it. On the way it struck me how different our sense of distance is in Africa, because we are so used to huge open spaces between towns. To us it is quite a normal practice to hop into the car and drive somewhere 300km away for the day. I realise most people who live in Europe will think it is totally insane to drive the equivalent of London to Scotland for a day's outing, but that's Africa for you!

We decided to head for Hogsback, and stopped on the way for breakfast in Grahamstown. Then we started towards Fort Beaufort, winding our way up the passes as we climbed inland.

We rounded a bend and squealed with delight as we spotted snow on a distant mountain.

So off we headed enthusiastically towards it. We passed through Fort Beaufort, and Alice. But as we left Alice, heading towards Hogsback, I could see that there was no snow on these mountains, the one we had seen was much further to the North East. So I phoned Mr Farty to send me the number of the delightful Granny Mouse house in Hogsback, where we have had some really nice stays. (And by the way, as I was hunting for a link, I realised that I promised in MAY that I would show you this magic place, and somehow time and events overtook me, so that is another journey we must do soon!) The ever friendly Ingrid laughed when I told her we had driven all that way to see snow, apparently it had snowed there the previous day, but had already melted by the time we got there, RATS! So we turned around and headed back to Alice, where we filled up with petrol. At the garage there was a guy in a really well maintained old Porsche, rather an unlikely car to see in this remote country area! I asked him about the snow, and he said it was FAAAAAAR away on the Winterberg Mountains. He lives there, 8km from the snow, and said even in a really powerful 4x4 it would take 2 and a half hours to travel that 8km because the terrain is so rugged. So that was the end of that! But as we headed back through Fort Beaufort, we decided to make the best of it, and as we passed the museum, we decided to pop in for a quick look around.

Boy did we underestimate that place! It was absolutely fascinating, and a well laid out balanced display showing the history and lifestyles from the point of view of the original tribes who lived there, as well as the British soldiers and Settlers who were tasked with establishing it as a frontier for the Colonial Government. Room after room of well labelled and well kept artefacts greeted us. Just as we were leaving, having taken in a fraction of what is there, because it would really take several days to see and absorb it all, a rather shabby looking man shuffled up to us. He asked what our interestrs were, and we said just general history. So he said that the museum was about to undergo a reshuffle, and would we like to see something else.

Now don't forget that we are city girls, who live practically under seige to criminals back home, and had a 4 year old with us. So every defense mechanism was bristling.... was it safe to go with this man who, although he looked like a hobo, seemed to be in posession of the keys to the museum? My natural liking for eccentrics took over, I didn't want to offend him, so we followed him into a little courtyard, with a lovely view across a river to the mountains beyond.

It was full of all sorts of bric-a-brac, which is going to find its way into the new displays.

He unlocked a door and ushered us into a large room, which turned out to be the old blacksmith's workshop. I still had ash in the fireplace and an ENORMOUS set of bellows, and a fascinating assortment of tools. He also showed us his magnificent collection of vintage clothes and uniforms.

I asked his name, and at this point he disappeared, leaving K and I looking at each other with slack jaws.He returned wearing a cap with a moose on it, told us his name was Moose van Rensberg, and proceeded to tell a long and involved story about how he had decided in his youth to become a professional bum, and earned the name on his travels. He eventually settled down in Fort Beaufort, married, and has now been the curator of the museum for the past 20 years.

He said we must go for a walk with him as he had something more to show us. Again the defences sprung up, and I tried to excuse us by saying we needed to find Ethan some lunch. He said "well you are wasting time then, come on" and Ethan said "granny, you are wasting time!" So we had no choice but to follow!

We walked along the street, enjoying the lovely old historic buildings,

....and came to one with the original old curved veranda, which turned out to be Moose's home, which he calls the Mooseum.

The dining room has no curtains, just a stunning collection of old bottles covering the window.

Moose led us through the kitchen and into a back garden that was like entering wonderland.

It was a menagerie of animals and birds in interleading aviaries, with bunnies, guinea pigs, hamsters, chickens, pigeons, budgies a tortoise, dogs, cats and many other types of birds co-habiting happily together. Ethan was delighted.

There was an outdoor pub in one corner, called the "Horny bar"! .....

and a door covered with old Apartheid era signs......

By this time we had long since had the feeling that we had entered a time warp, and moved back in time a couple of centuries......but t his feeling was completely confirmed when we left his house, and there across the street was a man taking photographs....

with an old bellows camera and a red cloth draped over his head! We returned to the car in a daze of sensory overload, and tucked into some 'padkos', (literally food for the road)

and the little guy was gone for the trip home!

What a magic day of dropping off the planet. We returned to a bit of harsh reality, in the form of a monster traffic jam caused by the freeway being awash with monster waves. You can read all about that on the Port Elizabeth Daily Photo blog if you follow the link near the top of this post.

Braving the elements

Hi, well we all know by now that I am an all or nothing kinda gal, but still, 3 weeks of silence is unusual. It's not that I've had nothing going on or nothing to say, but just that by the time I settle down at night, my mind is so fried that I just don't even have the mental energy to string words together or form a coherent response to any post I read. In fact I haven't even been doing much lurking this time, it has almost been like a kind of sensory overload where I just can't absorb any new information. So I hope no-one feels abandoned, neglected or ignored because I have not been returning visits and comments, I just really needed to recharge my batteries! And then, when I was ready to get going again, we had a whole upload hassle, which we are still trying to sort out. We have narrowed it down to a conflict between blogger and our adsl service provider, as we can upload on blogger with our cellphones.

There is so much to share with you, including a stunning whale watching expedition we went on last week, some spectacular sunsets, family news etc, but rather than try and fit it all in one post, and make it ridiculously long, I’ll just nibble away at it over the next few days. Apart from anything else, we are in St Francis at the moment, and I am blogging on my cellphone, which can get a bit pricey if you go mad with pictures and visiting blogs, so a modicum of restraint is called for!

Today is my favourite kind of day to be in St Francis.... it is cold and blowing a serious gale, but not raining. So it is possible to sit on the rocks near the lighthouse, being buffeted by the wind, and soak up the wonderful impressions being made on all one’s senses, before retreating indoors for the comfort of a warm cup of coffee and an English Muffin.

the lighthouse faithfully and sturdily doing its job, as it has since 1878, on days like this it really earns its keep!

Experiencing nature having a tantrum is both humbling and exhilarating. It is a sort of sensory feast that includes intense beauty, but not in the usual passive way that one experiences the beauty of, say, a peaceful lake or tropical beach. This also demands participation, in order to avoid being overcome by the overabundance of wildness.

Even taking photos involves more than the usual decisions about zooming, exposure and placement of focal point. Now it is also about protecting the camera from flying spray and foam, but at the same time not wanting to miss the wonderful scenes in the teeth of the wind.

It is about bracing oneself and trying to hold the camera steady whilst staggering on the rocks, as the wind attempts to tear one from ones viewpoint, and deciding at what point it is no longer worth the risk.

It is about seeing seething wildness all around, and deciding how best to capture the atmosphere it creates in a static two dimensional photograph, devoid of the accompanying sensations of cold, muscles all working against the buffeting, and the overpowering screeching sound that is pervading everything, and almost drowning the roar of the waves as they are shredded on the rocks.

So as you look at these photos, taken just after sunrise this morning, please imagine the soundtrack of any movie you might have seen, dealing with storms at sea or in the Arctic wastes, and add that sound to the mental images.

I often wonder about this compulsion to record every scene for posterity, this seeing everything through the lens of a camera. There is no denying the satisfaction of viewing one’s images later, seeing it all again, capturing a fleeting moment so that it can be seen over and over. But it also removes one from being “in the moment”. It takes away the sheer luxury of letting oneself be totally immersed in experiencing fully what is around one. So more and more, at times like this (and especially if it is a rare event that I may never get a chance to experience again, such as being in the boat right next to a pair of Southern Right Whales last week) I am trying to consciously stop taking pictures once I feel I have captured the moment as best I can, and then to just turn on all my other senses, look around and see the big picture, and to fully experience all that it entails. There is a world of difference between the two, both have their merits, and to do one to the exclusion of the other is to lose out. So this morning having photographed the wildness as best I could, I tucked the camera back inside my anorak, and just stood and fully participated in all the sensations of the storm. It was such a treat!

here's someone who really knows how to enjoy the elements first hand... a lone surfer making the most of the swell.

Spa---ring partners

Ok, I promised to tell you a bit about my day of being pampered on Thursday.

My friend Julie fetched me at 9am, and off we went to Addo. This is a little farming village about 70km from PE. It is better known for the Addo Elephant park nearby, but it is actually a citrus growing area on fertile soils fed by the Sunday's River.

On the way we went past the Swartkops River mouth, with the little village of Amsterdamhoek nestling on the river banks.

The lighting as the sun struggled to make an impact on the cold and bleak day was stunning, and Julie could see I was itching to take photos, so she very patiently stopped on the side of the freeway so i could do my thing.....here she waits in Ndlovu (her new monster car, appropriately named... it means Elephant in the local Xhosa language, but what a great ride!)

As you can see, it was a really sombre day, but this is on the sea side of the freeway, and you can just see the line of buildings along the shore, with the sandbanks in front of them that shows the position of River mouth.

looking inland is the Swartkops Estuary and behind it the mountains where Uitenhage lies (famous as the home of Audi and Volkswagen South Africa). There is even a glimmer of blue sky!

We arrived at the Spa to this wonderful welcoming sight....

It was on a farm in Addo that Suzette Meyer had the vision of setting up a health spa. She trained as a beauty therapist, and then set about modifying the old farm house and building the Resort. She is a very talented lady, and has created a delightful place with a really welcoming, relaxing ambience.

(Here is Julie, seated on the front patio, with Suzette on the right. )

One of the things about building on an established farm is that there are already some wonderful old trees, like this magnificent Tipiana Tipu, which give is such a settled, peaceful atmosphere.

We started of with a nice hot cup of coffee on the front patio, overlooking the lovely gardens.

As you can see from our attire, it was still pretty cold!

The spa has been constructed around a gravelled courtyard, with the reception area and all the treatment rooms and in the old farmhouse along the front, and then surrounding it at the back are the Jaccuzzi, the gymnasium and some outdoor chalets for accomodation.

Then off we went to our respective treatment rooms, and wafted off onto clouds of bliss as we underwent all sorts of massages, facials, body wraps, Vichy showers, moisturising masques etc. By the time lunchtime arrived, we were glowing gently and feeling decidedly mellow!

We ended a delightful treat with lunch on the patio, and then headed for home.

And as a bonus, there is an orange orchard along the driveway. I bet there are not many Spas in the world where you are invited to pick your own oranges as you leave!

Thanks for the treat Jules.... it was wonderful!