As it happens

(Better than) 50 shades of Fontein street

2015-03-23T05:58:00.000-07:00

We all have at least one such a place. Call it a destination. Call it home. Or just call it the place that holds your heart.

After visiting the Valley for many years, and frequently expressing a wish to purchase a piece of land in this wonderful little village - a very dear friend of mine's wish recently came through. In the shape of a delightful cottage which featured quite a few unsightly and mind-boggling features. But it had that something. That particular character that said: "Welcome to your new home"

Roses all over, a guinea-fowl feather at the front door, another one at the kitchen door - all added up. Within 24 hours it was signed, sealed and the journey towards creating a new space started.

And I'm honoured to have witnessed the transformation. I've captured the process with a regular lens, but the nuances introduced by Jan I can only really capture my way with my Lensbaby.

Also known as 'farm windows', typical Swartland style windows

Bursts of colour all around

One of my personal favourites - colour-wise

A surprise wherever you look

Roses of all sizes and colours

Ancient wild olive tree

A random artificial flower survived against the fence

Bougainvillea carpet

Wild olives

Colours playing hide and seek in the lush vegetation

Gorgeous old shutter

Shutter latch

Shutter hinge

The view to the centre of the village, with a towering church tower

Moody afternoon

A much-loved art deco design

Superb inlay - purchased from a shop in the village

Light fitting - to be fitted soon

More detail of a light fitting

So in love with this gentle colour

Single rose swaying in the wind

Let the purple flowers rule . . .

Welcome

Detail on door

Door

Lamp

Sunlight filtering through a lampshade

Each door has it's own individual style

Basket

Turquoise - adding more life to a beautiful haven

These swallows have found their home too

Vintage detail on door

No home is complete without a fireplace

Detail of fireplace

Succulent addiction

Low maintenance, high in visual value

Cushion detail

Magazines on the shelf

Enter...

Keeping mosquitoes at bay

Gentle folds of a mosquito net

Folding chairs

Kitchen utensils

Kitchen

Cutting boards

A splash of happy colour

When the rooster come home to roost

Milk jug through chicken mesh

Utensils and measuring spoons

Always tea-time

In touch with nature

Time for a cuppa . . .

Matroosberg - in search of snow

2012-08-20T09:20:00.003-07:00

Although living in South Africa offers one many beautiful places and faces, you never get a feeling of "been there, done that, got the t-shirt".

Every road a new discovery, every day offering fresh beauty. And the fun part is that you don't actually have to look for anything . . . you're surrounded with it all!

Well, that was what I initially thought when we headed towards the Matroosberg range somewhere in the Karoo.

Our initial search for snow turned into a diverse range of searches: the right turn-off to the cottage, the keys to the cottage, the gas cylinder and a few other essentials. Of which most importantly was firewood - dry firewood.

Abraham, the caretaker of the property, was eager to please. No problem, was the reassurance. "My brother-in-law is on his way here and I'll arrange for him to bring two bags".

What he forgot to mention was the fact that the wood would only arrive a short 24 hours later! I guess time in the country doesn't speed past as fast as in the city. Thank goodness for a well-stocked shed that kept the fires burning all night long in the meantime.

And snow, Abraham - could you promise us some snow in the morning?

"The people around here don't believe me, but my bad back AND my chicken tell me it will be a sheet of white in the morning"

The confidence in seeing snow up, close and personal the next morning escalated - especially if the chicken also thought so.

My first view of what awaited at the cottage

Local vegetation seemingly growing effortlessly, wherever you may put them down

Heading for the tracks

What is left of the original station sign

On a railway-line to nowhere

144 miles from where we started our search for snow

Just in time to catch the last rays of the sun as it hides behind Matroosberg

A gate across the railway line? It seems perfect in a world where bad backs and chickens predict the weather.

Olive leaves - happy to be in the area

Adjusting from a true cityscape filled with noise, pollution and cellphones, it took a while to adjust to the quiet - with only the sound a lovely fire and the occasional spluttering coming from one of the oil lamps. And the inevitable clattering of teeth as one moved away from the fireplace. Yes, cold it was. But the mere promise of snow kept us going.

Warm glow from the fire and a good red wine completes a perfect evening

Add a lovely suspense novel by the light of a spluttering oil lamp and the scene is set for a haunting experience

When the sun nudged past the window shutters in the morning, it was time to spot the sheet of white outside. Needless to say - the bad back and the chicken did not make good on their feelings. Not a sign of snow apart from a layer of frost on the vehicle's roof.

My dinner plans immediately took form - I was considering having chicken roast for supper...

Morning has broken - and the only snow miles away. This is the view from the lavatory. No complaints about no water . . .

Abraham arrives with his morning coffee and to check in on us - still no firewood

Telling a sad story about his youngest nicknamed Poppehuisie
("Little Dolly House" as she was born in a similar-named cottage)

Next on the agenda was a visit to the bustling metropolis of Touwsrivier - some 30 k's away.

Side road in Touwsriver

A special effect to create a flashback feeling. Nothing much has changed

An explosion of wild flowers in somebody's garden

A typical Cape Dutch gable against a crispy blue sky.

Recovering from the initial shock of hearing a man shouting something that may have sounded like abuse, it became clear that it was an old man preaching the goodness of God and the Bible. And just for the sake of all the bystanders - in both the local language and English. He seems to travel from corner to corner, ever so smartly dressed with his "pressed pants", tie and Bible, intermittently clutched, banged and waved at all and sundry.

"You'll never say it, but that man was nearly dead. All the doctors from here and the hospital gave up on him. Cancer, you see" whispered one of the fruit-seller ladies, in awe of this man and his knowledge of the Word.

He sweetly humoured me whilst taking photos of him - positively playing it to his new-found audience. I was delighted.

The Preacher man

Finding Genesis

Kommaweer - meaning "Come Again". And yes, I think I'll come back to Touwsrivier again

Three locks seem like some overkill, especially as the door leads to nowhere either

The town itself provided it's fair share of pleasant surprises - like the Chinese shop so full with various goods ranging from clothing to plastic flowers, radios sealed in cellophane and blingy toys in hard plastic. And the spice shop "the cleanest shop in the village" where you can find sauces, spices, cleaning agents and a lovely conversation with the owner, all in one place.

The unique change room in the Chinese shop

A lamp shade in any possible colour - also in the Chinese shop

You're guaranteed to find a pair of sneakers your size - and ho and behold, even the style

The local butcher. I had to chuckle a the 'Smoked Russians"...does it come with Vodka?

The cleanest shop in the Village

Proudly South African

Most likely the most universal sign in the world

The older boy just happy to be - the younger thought I'm spoiling his playtime

Farm-fresh

Traditional transport - an old man and his grandchild zoomed past at a speed that would make Lance Armstrong jealous.

Many years ago we used to refer to this town as the locomotive graveyard. It was the place where a large collection of locomotives in need of fixing up or simply being taken apart, were kept. Today the only sign of this is a beautifully restored engine in a public park. However, a strict sign indicates Access Denied, meaning I can only guess it actually has been beautifully restored. I felt rather sad by the loss and absence of those magnificent old steam engines - pre-dating the electric monsters and diesel-driven engines now hogging the railway lines.

The old-timer - what stories she could tell

Not even time can tell the age of this sign

The road leading into the property where the cottage is located

Back at the cottage I told Abraham I wanted his lying chicken for supper. A most wondrous smile covered his face. "Maybe the snow will fall tomorrow" he said. Yes, maybe.

He showed me how to work the little tractor and before long we set off to discover the wild yonder.

The most beautiful array of lichens - all colours and luminous at certain angles.

Well, it felt like it. Lots of beautiful flowers, an incredible and diverse range of lichens on the rocks, a thundering waterfall that only happens when enough snow has fallen, a baby gecko and a little tortoise. Roaring wild-life if I may say so.

The waterfall

Yep, still there. Pre-splash moment...

Playing adventurer the invitation to charge through some water in the road with the brave little tractor just loomed ahead - I had to do it, kind of Indiana Jones, although we were not chased or chasing anything. Instructions were clear: camera ready, foot down and here we go.

What happened next was not quite movie-material. The revenge of the little tractor ruled - and we got super-soaked from head to toe with a wave of muddy brown water. My passenger was not impressed - but I could not sympathise enough as every time I wanted to - I saw a drop of water dripping down from her nose which made me guffaw with laughter. Misery ruled. End of tractor journey of discovery. Fortunately nothing a good bit of sun couldn't fix. And supper, of course!

Preparing for a "potjie" - a dish with all the food in one pot

The deep-set open firre - an absolute winner

Yummy - hunger settles in

Stewing away for the final half an hour

With the sun setting slowly, a perfect outdoor venue for an early supper

All hands on deck and many Rummy games later . . .

The frost in the morning offered a spectacular crystal-like image on the car's roof.

Yep, two years after the Soccer World Cup in Capt Town, still sporting proudly SA flag

The pub

All pretty in pink

With a gecko taboot

Many years of wear showing up an an enchanting colour display on the corrugated iron sheets

This experience combined with cooking supper on an open fire with a view across to a snow-capped Matroosberg is just one of those perfect moments when you feel totally content with the world, blessed with who you are and where you are, appreciative of all the people you have in your life. And in the quiet of the field you send them your gratitude and your blessing, your love and your support...

Bikes, bears and badges

2011-11-28T05:21:00.001-08:00

being a biker or a bike-rider as some choose to call themselves, doesn't necessarily mean we all are doing it because of the iconic movie "easy rider". most of us have totally different reasons for opting for two wheels in stead of the comfort of a car - with central heating, locking and lots of other fabulous features.

for me it's my oxygen tank. yes, i breathe in pollution, fuel fumes and other nasties. but i also breathe in the incredible smell when the first rain hits the dusty roads and vegetation in the karoo, or the blossoms next to the road. i can even tell you when the vineyards are ready for their harvest.

being on a bike allows me all of these and to appreciate the dawn of every day.

usually riding solo, thinking of myself as slightly independent. seeking not much more than some simple sanity and song - which is what i do non-stop every single time i ride. and i ride every single day of my life, come rain or come shine.

I'm not a social animal, thus not enjoying rides out en mass. but once a year I put my solo-stuff behind me and saddle up with thousands of bikers across the country for a good cause: the Toy Run. and i buy toys for boys and girls of all ages, no teddy bears although they look pretty cool on the bikes.

so, yesterday morning amidst a gale, filled the tank and set out for the meeting point. an experience in itself - with donuts (not the edible kind), rubber burning and the revving of all kinds of engines. this is show(-off) time.

being able to give to the less-privileged in such a manner holds it's own reward. hundreds of well-wishers line the route whilst waving, clapping hands and some even having the odd picnic next to the freeway.

it humbles me beyond belief when surrounded by such goodwill. knowing that on this day an average of 65 000 motorcyclists across the country are doing exactly the same can be quite an emotional experience.

my trusty old steed, ready and willing to participate

dynamite in a small, yet powerful package

flattened by speed? or excitement

A well-travelled BMW - tagged with destinations across Africa

'i'm just an American in . . . South Africa"

Classic road map - airbrushed route on tank

Ah, a Harley with a soft heart . . .

super-shiny for a special day

all shapes, sizes, age, colour and capacity

big oops - but rather willing abused little scooter

it it has an engine and no doors, guaranteed to be part of the run

this is my 'not a softy' expression

piece de resistance - my next christmas stocking should contain the keys

oh yes...

a bike or a praying mantis?

don't mess with this painted monster

possibly the most-discussed bike - big bertha

monster lights already tells you this is not a normal bike

big bertha in full glory. any ideas?

classic, classic and classic

a work of designer art

another classic - superior in the looks department

the way real bikes were build

easy rider style

trike not on strike

can you tell the bears from the bikes?

all about the bear necessities

sad face - soon to give someone a happy face

just grin and bear it . . .

bear mountain - two giant containers full

proudly displaying one of the new 7 Wonders of the world

also helps remembering names

part of an international chapter and not so disgraceful

can you hear the calling?

return to tyger valley if found . . .

tough-looking sergeant in arms - but prepared to queue with the rest of us

one of the most striking colours of the day

member of the tin hats - and other helmets

badges are not just for the boys

an impressive metal collection

been there, done that

going to need it if you keep on going so fast!

burning rubber on a scooter!

and rosie hits the road in grand style

one of only 100 of it's kind

not for the faint-hearted

Cyclops on styroids - monster bike

harley gives you wings - and a long-term facelift

too true

what is a run without good old fashioned take-aways?

a traditional local must-have - boerewors (sausage)

impressive list of options, all prepared in a little caravan

fun was had by all

what's a biker without tattoo's? this file contains all the designs you could wish for - and it lasts a week!

at least it doesn't hurt as much as the real mccoy

uhm...brave? or does it help that the 'artist' was gorgeous?

waiting in line to get 'inked'...

young and living to the full

is there any reason why I can't burn rubber too?

oh yeah baby - soon, soon, soon!

thank you for the memories - see you next year,

same time same place . .

waste not - want not: making marmelade on the farm

2011-09-26T07:27:00.000-07:00

i never thought of myself as someone who'd unnecessarily waste - be it paper, water, electricity and food. as i said i never thought so.

it was the case until i met ailsa from the riebeeks who told me during the early stage of our friendship i'm 'obviously not a war baby' - which she was during those horribly days in england.

i've been, supported by another dear friend, trying to get her to pen down her tips for saving, ranging from onion skins to chicken bones and recycling reclycled stuff until it no longer can serve any purpose whatsoever. maybe one day she will.

during a recent visit i was once again astounded at her ability to make something out of virtually nothing. this time it was marmelade - made from lemons from the farm she 'rescued' that would have otherwise completely gone to waste.

and ailsa doesn't like things wasting . . .

on a chilly saturday afternoon, the message was clear - today is marmelade day. the little kitchen on the farm immediately transformed from a coffee & chat haven into a buzzy beehive of activity: curtains were flung open, ingredients plonked down on the well-used work surface under the window with a lovely look out onto the mountain side of the farm and slowly the smell of lemons started filling the air.

action station - all and sundry ready for the process of making marmelade

on the side: the beautiful old scales still do the occasional weighing of heavier products

and hiding behind the scales: stemming from the transformation to decimal, this has remained part of the household ever since.

sugar is one of the very few ingredients that needs to be purchased

sugar's done, now for the rest

in the meantime the lemon pulp is happily bubbling away in an enormous pot "we don't talk too much about"

surely one of the most beautiful and versatile fruits

ailsa's test for texture and stickyness. it must be of a certain consistency prior to being seen as marmelade

adding a few drops of oil creates some magic - but at this stage i was on info overload. just know that it is an important trick to do activate some process

when the marmelade start looking like this whilst bubbling away in the pot, it's nearly ready to be decantered.

the beautiful marmelade gets decantered into sterilized and very hot jam jars

the wax circles - all the way from london and acquired for a very reasonable price, of course.

even though i'm still a bit at a loss as to how all ended up together in this golden combination of colour and taste, i will not forget inhaling every fragrant moment of the creation process. now it's time for tea, toast and marmelade, of course!

a day in the deep south

2011-09-16T08:26:00.000-07:00

sometimes just a short stroll, camera in hand, make you see things you've never noticed before. every town, every suburb - no matter where in the world you are - have it's own particular vibe and influence on your being. the sun on your back, the smell of the sea or freshly-baked bread, a sudden gust of wind. all play a part in making you aware of being in the moment. live it, love it and breathe it in.

Some of the most beautiful buildings add character to a place that nearly ended up forgotten

A true piece of art - a chandelier made from seashells and glass shaped by the relentless power of the sea

could easily be referred to as the empire of books as well

an unnecessary monstrosity, but a safe spot for the pigeons

the oldest shop in the village

not too sure this man will receive a call from me in the near future. . .

beach bums - totally delightful creative expression

another beautiful building that stood the test of time

adding flavour - mild, medium and hot - to an evening out

despite being totally derelict, still a great example of early days architecture

and still going strong - with ice cream cones, fish & chips and newspapers . . .

yes, mr postman does collect from here too

playful display in the local pizzeria/pub

fantasy against a window pane

manu, all the way from india

connecting two worlds - the deep south and the city

shaped by the wind

despite the sign, there is nowhere a house in sight

one of the well-attended churches in the area

a karmann ghia completes a vivid image of yesteryear

quirky sign - right next to the beach

and at the end of the day: street kids discussing the rest of their night

Lensbaby in Long St

2011-09-05T07:29:00.000-07:00

long st is a very unusual place - well, most of the time. you'll find people from all walks of life either finding some joy or trying to forget about their sorrows in one of the many places lining the road. there are purple rinses, feral kids, kateboarders, foreigners and many locals that could easily be mistaken for foreigners . . . it's a destination that grows on you, no matter how hard you try to resist. and amidst all the craziness there's a carefree spirit that seldom wavers. within these parameters you make friends that will remain as such for the rest of your life. one of the favourite spots recently underwent some changes and friends gathered to celebrate the new direction. we were there . . .

pizza heaven . . . and more

warmth from the pizza oven welcomes you on a cold spring evening

coffee until 4 in the morn'

dining options - inside or out

pizza in the making

tools of the trade

well-used in creating many a great meal

ready and waiting

retro finds a new home

fresh produce every day

gentle light

combined with a lovely smile welcomes you

henk, a happy man

more smiles

a coldie on tap

a new destination where friends meet

to share good times

social time

not over until the 8-ball sinks

lovely people all around

and welcomed by ruth

an invitation to sit down and enjoy

fair fare on offer

more happiness

time flies

ruth, smiling as always

morné in a quiet mood

daniel, resident long st social photographer

garlic - a must for any pizza

hot and happening

cold ones in the fridge

and coffee for the connoiseur

back to my (riebeek) roots

2011-08-26T05:00:00.000-07:00

eighty years ago my mother was born in the riebeeks. eight years ago i started frequenting the riebeeks - introduced to it by a dear friend. little did i know then that the place that became such a restful haven to me, used to be the farm my mother was familiar with as a youngster. in fact, my grandfather rented one of the landlord's farms a little further down the hill called boshoff.

sunday nights he would gather his family, get the 'trêppie' (horse-drawn carriage) ready and head for the homestead on swawelberg for prayer evenings.

while the landlord was a true-blue farmer, his wife was known as "doctor steyn" of the region and her multiple coloured bottles of magic medicine came to the rescue of many families, my mother included. i was told that the 'doctor' was a true lady and that she was the first person my mother has ever met who painted her nails. she, and her sister, would be unable to close their eyes under prayer - totally transfixed by the colourful fingernails of the 'doctor'.

over the past eight years i've been privileged in being able to gather my own warm and fond memories on this farm - spending weekends in a converted barn next to the homestead. sharing lots of love, laughter and good meals with people very close to me.

my six degrees of separation at times seem to shrink to a mere moment in time . . .

the muddy road to swawelberg after a heavy downpour

my room with a view onto the 'hanslammers' home'

every nook and cranny in ailsa's home is a canvas of impressions

feeling a little bit flat, mr barrow?

gardening tools find a comfortable spot on the window sill

essentials - in a kitchen full of surprises

abundance of colour - after the rain

mother nature - the perfect sculptress

stairway to the welcoming verandah

all you need - kept nearby

an interesting combination of greens on one of the doors

she just blends in

tending to some of her newcomers

a fascinating combination of succulents and colour

multi-purpose - chair, table, decor

another newcomer to the garden

the garage and former pottery studio

unlimited view

three's a company

limes straight off the trees in the garden

lunchtime - usually a superb salad

tea-time is an undeniable ritual - and we always get our 'own' cups. the clown is mine

pensive

the riebeeks boast a wonderful variety of birds

peace

all you need in a kitchen

special treasures

books and magazines - always a great find

the heart of the house - kitchen, confession room, 'kuierplek' (place where we gather),

many a culinary delight has started here

if you can name it, you'll find it here

patiently waiting for the next serving

the way to the kitchen

"my" room - a special place

more treasures

playful and fresh

birthday calendar - also including dates of birth

an all-time favourite

fresh from the lime tree

tea, anyone? so many different kinds on offer . . .

every tin tells a story

favourite creations - chickens and sheep

magic happens underneath those lids

getting ready for the farmer's market - soon to be filled with lime marmelade

quirky and fun towel rack

all in good measure

metal gekko adds some fun

friendship knows no timelines

let me tell you about the horses . . .

favourite books - and of course one by neil munro

pudding in the making

a keepsake from harrod's

back-up plan for power failures

a place to rest

marking on the wall, showing how the children grew over time

yet somehow the keys always go missing . . .

the end

lensbaby's visit to the Riebeeks

2011-08-19T07:49:00.000-07:00

the riebeeks - barely 90 km's from town - is a world on it's own. inspiring, different yet intensely familiar at the same time. space to breath and just to be. quaint restaurants and little shops, beautiful landscapes and a visual feast.

after a visit to this special place i feel rejuvenated, blessed and in a much better place

it has been said the arum lilies in the swartland region used to be as prolific as the namaqualand daisies further north. such a gracious flower

a delightful combination of local and abroad

i call them "make me happy" flowers

always an excellent choice

a visit to Fraukje's shop is non-negotiable

stay warm while enjoying "harold's soldiers"

simple, stylish and beautiful

clay works

for coffee . . .

brilliant book bargains - with a little chill corner

love it

also known as 'allan's farm yard'...

canola fields - so bright, it has to lift your spirits too

en route to malmesbury

still happy flowers

fresh veggies and other beautiful foods

also proudly supports the local creative women

retro chic

collectible lampshades

light in a jar - does it have a sell by date?

it doesn't need to be perfect

combination of textures - then and now

reflections

real or fake - flowers add life

cheerful and colourful

secret garden surprises

days not to be repeated again

you lucky fish

tea anyone?

mother nature quietly makes her own statement

will she ever be found?

for local and good produce

ready for the harvest

delicious offerings in the deli

the colours seem so much more vibrant in the valley

quinces - not seen by me for a very long time

wonder what for?

rather intimidating look many years on

between two places

simplicity - peace - calm

splashes of colour on a wall

even the bunnies have a place

metal roses

left out in the rain for too long

ingenious wheelbarrows - sometimes every lid gets it's own lid . . .

despite the marks, still perfect

nuances of colour and texture

impressive grille

dodge 330

at ed's diner

bernie - part of the riebeeks for many years

rugby-time and the tension is on the increase

it may help

some watch rugby, others play poker

charming eddie

cars of all shapes and sizes

the 70's - bold and bright

tension rises as the rugby game progresses

if you don't see it, you can still read about it

game over - time to go home

Suppertime - and the living is easy

2011-08-15T05:59:00.000-07:00

in chalky white on a well-used blackboard are the words: if food be the music be the food of love, then play on. and at the rustic restaurant aunti pasti there's a lot of love and a lot of good food on the menu. so lets play on with our dearest of friends. good times, good wines, good vibes.

can you hear the music?

freshly decorated decadence

in anticipation at aunti's

tomato tart a la coenie

peter playing the perfect host

tins - useful things for cutlery

proudly presenting local produce

sharing special memories with friends

nothing beats the welcoming warmth of candles

liquid refreshments for all

the kitchen 1

the kitchen 2

the kitchen 3

finding warmth and friends on friday night at aunties

decorative and functional

the menu - never the same two days in a row

napkins in all shapes, colours and sizes

the valley is known for lovely wines

the end of a wonderful evening

all gone home

she, sadly, remains forever behind . . .

good night, all.

lensbaby days - deep south

2011-08-10T04:00:00.000-07:00

sometimes one see things that only make sense to yourself. if it makes you happy or makes you feel different, then why not? i find joy in little things, big things, light and dark, textures, shapes, nuances and being in the moment. sometimes it translates into sound and fragrance in my head when i look at the images. and i feel present...

once in a blue mood . . .

and so on . . .

who said rubbish bins have no personality?

quiet time in the garden

all in the detail

sometimes a fuzzy view provides clarity

the balmoral

realistic rustic

the harbour

give us this day

serene

at peace

roses don't always bloom

security compromised

arch-itecture

infinity

entrance or exit?

make peace

going nowhere today

practice life?

like a moth

locked in or lost?

perseverance

how often does the postman rings?

pick a number, any number

sound barrier

open invitation

gentle curves

view towards balmoral

dinner time

a source of light and joy

naturally light . . .

lensbaby days

2011-08-01T08:31:00.000-07:00

sometimes shapes, sometimes smells, sometimes the sound of the shutter make me feel alive. sometimes it stays in my head, sometimes i have a camera at hand . . .

life is full of choices

comfort in a cuppa

be seated

cafë mainstays - the spices of live

the magic of being you

shy smile

what awaits us today?

view - uninterrupted...almost

is it empty because it was fulfilling?

kitchen creation

a token of appreciation

peace offerings

being . . .

trying out new things

serious moment

empire bookshop 1

empire bookshop 2

empire bookshop 3

muizenberg

a life well-lived

the future

spitting image

great-grandmother renee with great-grandson gabriel

kindness