Merry Christmas. ….2024

Awww I wrote this in 2018 - my first Christmas living back in England and not knowing if I was going to stay - but here I am still firmly anchored on the River Arun. It’s Christmas Eve again and I a counting my blessings - a warm home (sometimes too warm), a loving family, food glorious food and I’ve made good friends here. A lot to be thankful for! I’ve eaten several ‘Christmas dinners’ already and enjoyed some lovely celebrations with friends I didn’t know six years ago when the piece below was written. Truth be told, I was homesick for SA and quite lonely - my first Christmas in the UK was very different but l realised today that this festive season has been busy and a happy one. I have lunched with my retired business ladies group, we have dined with our local river association, I have enjoyed festive fare with the neighbours and had a jolly day in London riding through the Christmas lights in an open top bus! We entertained our local pub friends and had a lovely meal with our two special friends! Today is a family day  and I am cooking Christmas dinner and tomorrow we are at a country pub for lunch and morris dancing - so life is good and this Christmas is as different again from my first for many years back ‘home’. Next week we will be packing for our holiday in SA and a lovely catch up with friends and family there under blue skies. No white Christmas here despite a promise of one - its grey, mild and damp but Christmas lights are twinkling all around and there is peace on the river! Merry Christmas 🎄 

2018 ——— Its Christmas Eve and it’s not going to be a white Christmas - it’s a Silent Night on the river and more than merry and bright this Christmas Eve has been blue skies and sunshine! It's different - as is Christmas every year these days. No big plans and no expectations and there is peace on earth - well in my little patch of W Sussex. I have a modest Christmas tree a BIG bowl of yellow and white roses, several candles and embarrassingly many more Christmas cards than I have sent. I have a tin of Quality Street and a selection of Christmas Schmaltz to watch and a lovely person to share it all with!
Christmas has been different for me anyway since 1995 when we lost our lovely son, Craig. Knowing that nothing would ever be the same again we just started doing things differently. We spent the first year in Capetown and Julia my sister came out to spend Christmas with us and then got engaged to Tom (now our brother in law) at The Town Lodge in Belville on Christmas Day. The following years coincided with the boys being overseas or travelling so Christmas became about collecting them from airports and celebrating as a family on Christmas Eve in a very grown up way, as we accommodated their commitment to in laws and outlaws! Although we mostly managed to touch sides on Christmas Day too. Christmas became phone calls to China and Argentina - where one year I learned Mark had spent Christmas Eve in the maternity unit as there was no room at the inn or bed in the men's medical ward! He passed a kidney stone!  Then grandchildren came along and Christmas was once again magical!

Looking at my simple little tree, its hard to imagine that I decked the house from head to toe and decorated at least four themed trees - and when The Christmas Shop was in full throttle - I had 200 plus people tramping though my house to raise funds for charity, winning the best tree on display for several years! Victorian trees, Vintage trees, Nutcracker Ballet trees, Woodland trees, Children's Trees, Merry Berry trees -  you name it - I have done it - with matching table decor and a fir tree in the garden that needed an extra set of lights each year to accommodate its growth! Ho Ho Ho!
Christmas Eve was spent cooking and preparing a feast either at our place or at Blue Horizon Bay - I have little to do this year as I have been invited to share Christmas with my beloved's family and our contribution is Christmas pud and Christmas Crackers so that's easy peasy - thanks to Tesco and Lidl there will be a Christmas pud tasting competition. We are hosting a very small festive cheese and wine here later but that is also effortless - lucky me!
Gifts.... I have in the past wrapped countless gifts! Tony was the chief organiser of the Ford Christmas Party and Children's party so for years I wrapped hundreds of gifts for 'Santa' to give to Ford children. We have assembled garages, bikes and various action man accessories on Christmas eve and I once knit an action man wardrobe with miniature fairisle jumpers. There was much emergency wrapping on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning saw the house strewn with bright paper.  As the boys got older the gifts got smaller and more expensive culminating in a designer Allessi corkscrew for the man who has everything (Mark) - given with the tag reading 'the most expensive screw you will ever have!
This year my gift list was small wrapped with two rolls of paper with some to spare! I do however have parcels arriving every day and a small pile of gifts to be taken home for Jess and Craig - Jessica chose hers online from the other side of the world and popped them in my online shopping basket. How times have changed.
Traditional or not - Christmas is different every year but still enjoyable. I am more than happy as I type this and looking forward to tomorrow with that little piece of my heart that holds on to a belief that there is a Santa Clause and that there will be peace on earth! Merry Christmas xxx

The fields are empty and people are hungry!

Hiya! Hiya! Hiya!  Mvelase clapped her hands and declared if she died tonight then she would die happy!She clapped and clapped, delight beaming from her old eyes. Mvelase has lived on the land at Tugela Estates KZN all of her life and remembers V and the Niemack family well. "They were the days," she said,"we ate well, we danced until our skirts were this high and parallel to the ground." The days that she speaks of were the years that V's father Bransby Dangerfield Niemack managed the 22 thousand hectares of land, Tugela Estates, for the wealthy owners - the Taylors. They farmed mealies and citrus for  the African and export markets. They had several thousand heads of cattle grazing and were the first importers of short horn cattle. They had thousands of pigs too and employed many hundreds of local Zulus. They worked on the land and in the house taking it in turns - six months on and six months off - but whether you were on duty or not, you received rations. This farm fed the neighbourhood and its people and was a profitable business for the owners.
The nearest town is Weenen and the farm was accessible thanks to a cage hoisted over the raging Tugela River,  that transported people, crops, livestock and on occasions a  Cadillac. There was an airstrip on the farm and the owners had light aircraft and licenses to fly. Much of the crop spraying and flips around the farm were managed without licensed pilots and that is why V is afraid of flying to this day as there were many near misses. The land is a ruthless master and farms demand hard work, disciple and absolute commitment but on Sundays the family enjoyed picnics and fishing under the shady poplars on the banks of the river and the Niemack boys - Oswald, Ronald and Vernon skied on the Tugela, skimmed stones and raised mayhem. While Lorraine and Thelma swam in the river, lazed on the banks and dreamed of the days that they would marry and move away!

It was a thriving farm but the families idealic childhood was brought to an abrupt end by a tragic tractor accident which killed "Jack" as Vs father was known. In 1964 the farm was sold to the Zulu Government or Bantu Trust and until this day has not produced one mealie or a single cabbage - Nothing! It lies unused and barren - the 'good days' died in the tractor accident too. So the families that worked, were fed, paid, danced and celebrated in perfect harmony with the farmer, family and landowner, now eke out a subsistent living and are dependant on social grants. Some of them have vegetable patches, where  between the neat rows of potatoes, carrots and pumpkin, dagga is planted for sale and for their own use.


These mini plantations are protected by impenetrable fences of aloe and devils thorn. We met Grace Hadebe aged 72 who farms this one - she collects water from the river in a 10 gallon bucket and her old legs carry it up the steep slope to her crops. She proudly showed us how well her plants are doing - The dagga is to sell to buy winter stockings for her grandchildren, she tells us in Zulu and I am so glad V can interpret for us as I so want to hear and tell these womens' stories.

The right climate, good soil and a plentiful source of natural irrigation from the Tugela River, give these lands the potential to thrive and the community flourish but without the right leadership, business knowledge and years of farming experience nothing will happen and the residents of Tegula Estates will live and die in poverty. It is heartbreaking to see and V was given a welcome yesterday that I don't think even Prince William and Katherine have yet experienced! "We need you back here.";"When are you coming to farm the land again - the fields are empty and we are hungry." Mvelase and the people of Tugela beg. If he had another lifetime V may consider it but its not his place now and time is not on his side. There is no employment and life is hard for the people of Tegula Estates and all they can do is remember the days when "we ate well, we danced until our skirts were this high and parallel to the ground." When life was a celebration every day!

Mrs Marple's Tea Room

The day started bright and sunny in Melbourne so we decided to go up into the mountains - The Dandenongs. First though, a quick trip to one of the many retail outlets to grab a bargain. YES! we found some lovely Jeep tops ...but by the time we headed for the mountains the weather had changed - Melbourne weather does that!
So it was a misty ascent up the Dandenongs - beautiful in its own way as the cloud enveloped the tops of the massive gum trees.

Right at the top of the mountain range is a little village called Sassafras and there sitting on the main road is the most delightful tea room  - Miss Marple's Tea Room. It was by now - pouring! So we followed our noses and headed straight for tea and scones.

Miss Marple's Tea Room was the ideal place to while away a rainy hour or so and observe the passers-by who all seemed to be carrying packets of tea purchased from the shop next door. The staff are dressed as Miss Marple would expect them to be - wearing black and white maids attire. It has a beamed ceiling and a cosy fireplace and everywhere you look there are teapots, jugs and copper pans.

Nadine and I ordered Miss Marple's Welsh Rarebit fingers which were flavoured with Guinness and chutney then smothered with cheese while Sean enjoyed a bowl of hearty soup. All delicious and then..........

....the scones arrived! Enormous! Sean ordered a chocolate, fudge and pecan cake which came with three spoons and was eaten with sighs of deliciousness.

.....and then......We went to scone heaven!

What a scrumtious afternoon spent in the company of Miss Marples.

Trains and Boats and Planes

I got off the plane to a busy airport full of people walking confidently and with purpose. I had to find a train and then my hotel - I tried to walk confidently and with purpose. I tried not to look like a stranger in a strange land. I was in Sydney one of the most beautiful capital cities in the world!
My first view of the famous bridge came suddenly as the train stopped at Circle Quays - it made my heart leap.
Off the train and up to street level and now to find my hotel - I had my map and found George Street - I walked through a sea of poker faced people wearing black suits, ear phones and clutching iPhones. I stopped the first person whose ears were unplugged and asked if I was walking towards or away from my hotel. "Hi! Where are you from," he asked, "Its back that way - I'll walk with you. Here give me your bag." The locals are really tourist friendly - he walked me to the door and wished me a lovely stay. I thanked him "No Worries!"

My family advised me to do the walking tour when I arrived to help me get my bearings - there is a free one here and in Melbourne - you just pay the guide what you feel its worth. With a 3 hour hike ahead - I wolfed down some poached eggs and strong coffee, adjusted my plasters and set off with the group. I loved it!

Apart from the facts about each landmark there was some tit bit of information or a funny story related - the Aussies love to poke fun at their history. I heard about convicts as young as 7yrs, about narcissistic governor Macquerie, naming everything in sight after himsef. I was told about a pub where the drinks where free but you were likely to wake up with a hangover on the deck of a sailing boat on the high seas - press ganged into serving the navy.I saw the place where the public gallows were and heard how food was in such short supply that you were hung for stealing an apple or a piece of bread.

The group shared excitement as we neared the harbour and were in sight of the two landmarks that everyone comes to the city to ogle at - The Sydney Opera House and the Harbour Bridge - known as "the coat hanger".
We saw a group of people climbing over the top of the arches (see them in the photo) crazy I thought!
The waterfront is a hive of activity - people, boats, cameras, aboriginal buskers, tour groups, commuters all vying for their piece of the action and a view. It was Sydney fashion week so there were strangely dressed people (below) and film crews and business lunches being enjoyed on the quayside by men in black with their Ipads propped up next to them.

The tour was over - 31/2 hours of walking and I was ready to drop.
I grabbed a sandwich and jumped onto the Manley Ferry to get a view from the Opera House from the water. It was just what I needed - a sit down, something to eat and a breezy latte.

It was lovely to bob around in the harbour but I stayed on the ferry lapping up the views and working out my way to my next stop - The Sydney Tower Eye. If they had told me in Geography that expertise in map reading was a useful skill to have and could save you time and blisters - I would have paid more attention to the actual science of it and not just drawing pretty trees and colouring rivers colleen blue! Anyway I worked it out and made my way towards the entrance which is deceptively in the centre of a shopping mall! Again I was treated to the hospitality of the city when three young women responded to my question if I was on the right track - took me all the way to the entrance to the 'eye'. I wanted to have afternoon tea up there but alas - they no longer serve "high tea" so I settled for coffee and cake and a 360º view of Sydney. Very pretty as the sun was low in the sky and bounced off the water and rooftops.

I meandered back to my hotel - WOW - I had done almost everything I wanted to do in one day in Sydney! Exhausted but happy - I kicked off my shoes and passed out!

Day 2 started in a more leisurely fashion and I decided to make my way back to the harbour after breakfast and explore the Opera House close up and then the Botanical Gardens - a green oasis in the centre of the city. Both were worth the visit. I loved this sign!

I also enjoyed my ride on the Choo Choo and the commentary from the driver as he told me (yes it was just me on board) about the rare species of tree that was only rediscovered 60 years ago and is thriving in the garden; the 22,000 strong bat colony that has made their home there and the first farm of the colony, which is still cultivated today hundreds of years later.

The views of the Bridge and Opera House are lovely from the gardens and the weather perfect to enjoy them. Reluctantly I made my way back up to the city and was able to walk confidently and with purpose. I had conquered the city! I had a couple of hours to spare so instead of walking around very expensive designer shops that I had no inclination to support - I wandered into the Raddison and ordered afternoon tea. The Russian Caravan tea was delicious, as were the eats, and my Kindle made good company as I readied myself for the journey back to the airport and Melbourne!