Taking, Giving and Receiving

©2011 Edward C. Lunnon

Sunday 25 December 2011: 5 years 3 months on … Advantage ED

Christmas 2011!

It’s my sixth Christmas with CBD which I received in September of 2006. It was given to me as a gift by someone – no-one knows who – and when I took it, I did not know what it would give me and what it would take away from me.

Indeed, Christmas is a time of giving and receiving; a time of celebration and reflection.

In my life, I have been given so much – and so much more than most other people who have lived, currently live or who will still live on this earth.

But sometimes it becomes difficult to be thankful for what one has been given.

You only see what has been taken – and, in my life, I have had taken so much.

My father was taken by a severe stroke when I was twelve years old; my mother was taken by diabetes, figuratively and literally, bits at a time until her death in 1986.

It is especially at this time of the year that I miss not having experienced parents as many other people do.

I studied to become a teacher, but in 1988 I allowed that noble profession to be taken away from me. In order to receive better remuneration elsewhere, I allowed greed to take away my chosen vocation. It is sad that so many other teachers in our country – which needs education so desperately – have done the same.

In 2002, I had my then occupation taken away from me in a bizarre contrived set of lies and corporate circumstance. What had been given to me was taken away in the blink of an eye: the time it took to sign a signature with no conscience, almost in a situation similar to when Pontius Pilate washed his hands in water after he had allowed the decision to be made to crucify Jesus Christ.

And then came the Corticalbasal Degeneration – a motor neurone disease that gives and takes.  

As time progresses, it gives of itself more and more.

And it takes more and more – slowly, stealthily over the last six years it has been taking more and more of my body. First my left fingers and left hand; then my left arm, right hand, left toes, left foot, left leg …

It takes my short-term memory, some of my cognitive functions, and so much more …

…  my ability to do things that most other people take for granted: brushing teeth, shaving, swallowing, eating, picking up, writing, typing, talking, seeing, smelling, tasting, planning, sitting, breathing …

Slowly it takes more of my ability to make a contribution to society and my purpose in life.

It has taken my ability to work and my capacity to earn an income and to provide for my family. This year it has taken our house at St Francis Bay and the special gift that we had to spend quality time together as a family. And whilst, economically, it makes no financial sense to have a holiday house, I have become only too aware this December, as our boys take off to go to friends, just how much a beach house acts as a magnet to keep the family and friends together. Those are the “priceless” moments that we see in the TV advert for Mastercard!

As the knife and fork become difficult to operate and the food falls from the spoon, and the tremors and spasms increase, and I need more and more assistance to put on my shoes and put in a light bulb, the CBD takes more and more of my self-esteem.

Human nature, I guess, is also very fickle. We all know that it is “nobler to give than to receive.” But we definitely don’t like being taken for a ride. We don’t like continually buying rounds of drinks and never receiving a drink back. There is no such thing as a free lunch!

Few of us are so noble that we just continue giving and never expect something in return. I know of no one who continuously gives presents and doesn’t expect one back!

The more you can give people, the more people you find surround you. Conversely, the less you have to give, the less you find around you. Christmas cards have stopped coming (all but the annual one – thanks so much!), I suppose because I haven’t sent any back, and I guess that’s the reason that the text messages have become far fewer, the phone calls have almost dried up and the visits are non-existent.

Yes, it is so much easier to receive and to take rather than to give!

However, CBD cannot be human – it takes but it also gives: it has given me the ability to see life through very different eyes;  to be more tolerant (I do try!); to give more of myself; it has given me opportunities to travel abroad and locally; to write; to talk; to meet all kinds of interesting people and those who do give to me unconditionally; to have my chat programme on radio with Lance; to experience the kindness of those people from Hospice who visit me regularly and those medical personnel – the doctors, bio’s, orthotists, physio’s – who assist me to make my life more comfortable.

Christians believe that God Himself, in the ultimate act of giving to mankind, was born into this world as His Son, Jesus Christ, in Bethlehem more than 2000 years ago. That is what we celebrate.

We are taught that “God gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”

But it is in celebrating this Birthday and it is at this “happy” Christmas time, especially, that one tends to see what has been taken and not what has been given.

In this time of supposed goodwill and godliness; happiness and hope; family cohesiveness and friendship; snowmen and snowballs; purity, peace, presents and pretence; flicking lights and food; cheer and charity; tinsel and talk; and drinks and even more drinks, it is difficult sometimes to understand Life and to experience “Happy Holidays”.  No wonder that for some it becomes intolerable and they end up throwing a few snowballs at each other and at Life! Some even throw their lives away!

As I write this, the news informs us that the “Season to be Jolly” has resulted in the 82^nd person, a thirty-six year old woman, jumping from our notorious Van Stadens Bridge on Christmas Day and ending her life.

So I am thankful that I am able to control my mind and to keep it focussed on 2012. I wonder sometimes where that Star will lead me. What I do know, is that I will receive and take far more than I will ever be able to give!

Despite the polyfilla to cover the cracks: the daily twenty odd tablets, the cortisone and now the quinine with its side-effects of headaches, rash, nausea, weakness, tiredness, and ringing in my ears (not bells nor beers!), I have my new leg brace for earthly support and Support from Him whose birth we celebrate today.

As Asaph wrote in Psalm 73 : 26

“My mind and my body may grow weak,

But God is my strength;

He is all I ever need. “

 

 

Take My Blues Away

 Tuesday 9 August 2011: 4 years 11 months on … Advantage ED

Women’s Day!

Last year, round about this time, I wrote Piece of Paradise and Ed and Elvis.

In both blogs I wrote about trips to the Southern Cape, including the Garden Route, and about visits with friend Jan Hoogendyk who had entered the SA Idols contest.

Well, history tells us that Jan went on to win SA Idols 2010 as Elvis Blue, and Sean and I were pleased to break into his heavy schedule and to meet up with him for a quick cuppachino at Dulce’s a while ago. I’m still hoping to get him to Port Elizabeth for a show.

And this past long weekend, we went on to visit the Southern Cape once again. Exactly a year after visiting Plettenberg Bay in 2010, we were back in 2011.

Friday night was a busy (and long one for me!) By invitation of Mr Squash, Alan Stapleton, we attended the re-opening of Crusaders Squash Club with its new glass-backed courts! But Saturday morning at 11, we left on time for Plett, just two hours westwards along the N2 from Port Elizabeth. Sean is now a year into his driver’s licence and once again, is behind the wheel. (Phillip has just got his licence – in Uitenhage – to drive a scooter, but he remained in PE to do advanced maths and an IT project for school.)

At one pm sharp we took the drive around the corner at The Crags, just before Keurbooms Strand and the River. The view before you of the Plettenberg Bay and the Robberg Peninsula takes some beating.

We were spending the weekend with John and Wendy Clarke. (John had told me, almost five years ago when I became ill, that many would go before me! Now he is convalescing from Guillain-Barre disease, which, just a few weeks ago, had paralysed him within a few hours!)

After lunch, we went for a long walk along the beach, from Keurbooms River, along the lagoon spit and all the way to the river mouth at (what used to be until it was flooded away) Lookout Beach. John tried his hand at fishing, something that just a few weeks ago he was unable to do! The views of the blue ocean and the blue mountains – some still capped with white snow from the recent falls – that surround this impressive Bay are spectacular. We even had the pleasure of viewing a display by a lonesome whale just beyond the surf.

Plettenberg Bay is to South Africa something like Monaco is to the French Riviera. The views of the Robberg Peninsula and the Tsitsikamma Mountains are spectacular. The homes on Millionaire’s Row are stunning and possibly extravagant.

Juxtaposed to this display of the country’s wealth, just on the other side of the N2, is the squalor of the tin shacks, the RDP houses and rows of outside toilets (ironically, at one stage, this township was  named Flushing Meadows!).

It is a common-place sight in our country: the haves and the have-nots right next to each other. One sees it in Johannesburg’s Sandton and Alexandria; in Cape Town’s Constantia and Hout Bay and Khayalitsha; and, in fact, in every South African city, town, village and township.

It is a display that could quite easily begin a discussion on the Fairness of Life (who said that Life’s fair?) and fuel a debate on socialism. Many years ago, I recall our then domestic assistant, Lorna, looking at this display of empty holiday homes and not understanding why so many of these large homes were only occupied for just a few weeks in each year!

As I write this, the youth of London and indeed Britain, have gone on the rampage. SKY News is showing pictures of wanton destruction, looting, arson and plain downright criminality and theft. If this can happen in a so-called First World Country, it reminds me how much of a tinder box we sit on here in South Africa!

When I was in doing my military service at the Infantry School in Oudtshoorn in 1982/83, we often came to Keurbooms for weekends. I had to AWOL, as I was just a troopie in my first year whilst my brother-in-law Anton and his mates were officers in their second year!

Indeed, my first visits to this magnificent part of the world were whilst I was studying at Stellenbosch University. We came to Plett at the end of every year once we had finished our final examinations. It was the beginning of what is now the much more formalised “Plett Rage” that takes place annually in December and now draws not only thousands of University students but also thousands of finishing off high school matric pupils from all over the country.

I remember one trip, arriving in the Peugeot (nicknamed the Pugget!) and being kicked out of the then Piesangs River Caravan Park, because the five of us – one woman and four men – did not represent a family unit of any kind, and that park supposedly only catered for families! We ended up camping at the Plett Park instead.

Within a few days we collected enough to fly the lady back to Cape Town and we continued enjoying what was then the pub at the Beacon Island Hotel, the Grape Vine (?) underneath the Hotel, the Formosa Inn and the Arches.

On our evening trip back to Cape Town, the Pugget overheated near Knysna, and we filled the radiator with salt water out of the Knysna Lagoon! We later pitched our tent on the front lawn of the Du Toits in George – and they found a squatter camp in their garden the next morning!

Those were the carefree student days of bright sunshine, braaivleis, beer and bankcruptcy!

In later years, our family often visited this area too and we have explored most of the Plett, Keurbooms, Knysna, George area – the Garden Route of South Africa. We also bought a plot of land at Sanderlings on the Keurbooms River, and had plans drawn up for a holiday house there, before we decided to buy in St Francis Bay instead.

Saturday evening we braaied with the Bryants, Sunday we slept in and then walked the beach, as we did on Monday. We talked, we walked, we ate, we slept and John fished – something I still do not do voluntarily!

It was a weekend of re-charging the batteries, depressing the blues, enjoying friendships and living Life!

 

PS! It’s Raining Potholes and Snow

Thursday 28 July 2011: 4 years 10 months on … AdvantageCBD

I started blogging in October 2009, three years after I first became aware that something was wrong with my left hand.

It was also at that time that Port Elizabeth and surrounds were placed on water restrictions. Our supply dams were emptying fast and we were not getting any rain. And as we have seen in the international, national, business and private economies over the similar period, using more than you have, leads to putting everything in a precarious position. Hence, the biggest world recession since the last Great Depression, and, as I write, we wait expectantly to see what will happen in the United States this weekend, as they battle to balance the budget.

But back to the rain – like money, when you have no inflow, you have to limit the outflow. Hence the restrictions that were imposed: no hoses, no watering of gardens, no filling of pools, a limit of 15KL of water per month per household, etc.

For the last two years, whilst I have been blogging, I have often written about the lack of rainfall in our area. It has been a pleasure travelling to other areas of the country where water has been plentiful and where one did not feel guilty having an extra-long shower or even a luxury of a bath!

All that is over now! For the last three months, we have had rain, rain and more rain!

And as the water has fallen, we have had flooding and all the consequential damage. St Francis Bay has twice been cut off from the rest of the country by its only access road being washed away at the Sand River bridge. Homes have been flooded, roads and bridges washed away, the potholes have become even more and even bigger (is that possible?), our roads look like patchwork quilts with all the potholes and our supply dams have all filled to overflowing.

But the authorities have been slow in reacting, and the restrictions have remained in place. Only last week, were they partially lifted. It has been a case of “water, water, everywhere and not a drop to drink!”

And so much for global warming! We have experienced cold weather such as I can’t remember ever having had in Port Elizabeth. Even I, who does not feel the cold because of my illness having damaged my “thermometer”, have been getting cold hands and cold feet. I have resorted to thick socks, woolly sheepskin slippers and “hand jeans” – gloves with the tips cut off!

This week, the heavy snowfalls in Africa have brought South Africa to a standstill! Major national roads have been closed. Even radio transmission has been halted in the Queenstown area where the transmitter generator has run out of fuel, and it can’t be accessed because of the snow. The Abrahamsons on the Karoo farm, Kaalplaas, where we spent last weekend in Somerset East (see picture in 2B or not 2B), also woke up to a white winter wonderland!

Ironically, Chile is experiencing similar biting cold weather and snow, and the United States is having severe heat waves! Whoever’s in charge of the weather seems to be messing it up all over the world.

Just as the government is messing up!

Over the last number of years, maintenance has not been a priority of our government. Everything has gone into a state of decay: education, healthcare, public broadcasting, airlines, roads, bridges, railways …

Four years ago, just after I had been diagnosed with CBD, I arranged a parents’ train to Bloemfontein when Grey PE played its traditional fixture against brother school Grey Bloem.  For years, the schools have been travelling by train on a home and away basis. Then, I had battled to get a train, but eventually managed to pull it off. Two hundred and thirty of us travelled to Bloemfontein, and we experienced a very cold night too when we had, what was then, the heaviest Karoo snowfall in living memory (and a train with no heating and delayed by 6 hours!) What fun!

Two years ago, after even more struggling, I managed to organise the Grey-V train 2 to Bloemfontein! That time we went prepared with sleeping bags, had no snow (but lots of rain in Bloemfontein), we were warmer and only arrived a half hour late. Even more fun!

This weekend, the PE school travels to Bloemfontein again. I have had so many people asking me to arrange another train. However, after giving it some thought, I regretfully came to the conclusion that my health has deteriorated to such an extent that I would not be able to do so.

Having said that, I think my health is still in a better condition than our ailing rail system. News is that SHOSHOLOZA (the SA mainline rail company) is unable to provide any trains at all this year. (Recently, all passenger trains in the entire country were cancelled for a month!)

Even the 600 school boys will be travelling by bus this year, and, so, yet another of our traditions is thrown out the window!  Future Grey boys will not experience the excitement of travelling to Bloem by train – in fact, many will now never ever experience train travel.

The chances of winning in Bloemfontein are limited (to say the least!), but travel safe, play hard, enjoy, and keep warm and dry because:

There’s more to come, they say – starting tonight: more rain, more cold, more snow!

Yes, we live in a topsy-turvy world.

Last weekend, we witnessed the awful killing by Anders Behring Breivik of seventy plus people (mainly children) in Oslo and on Utoeya Island – in the name of “saving Europe from Muslim takover”. We also saw the death of the notorious troubled and tragic singer (with the biggest hit REHAB), alcohol and drug abuser Amy Whitehouse, at the age of just twenty seven!

Last weekend, we also had the pleasure of visitors from The Strand: my niece Michelle, her husband Sebastian and their nine-month old daughter Hannah. Looking at Hannah at a place where she is just about to start crawling, I thought of this world a few times and wondered whether it was fair to bring children into and up in such a messed-up place. The answer came soon:

On Saturday, the rain let up and we headed off to the Addo National Elephant Park with its new entrance just 40 km from the City Centre at Colchester.

Away from the “messed-upness” of the world and in the quietness of nature, we experienced the beauty of our earthly home that hurtles through Space and from which we launch rockets to explore that Space (and maybe mess that up, too?) – read my previous blog.

Just a half hour from the hustle of the City, we experienced the joy and wellness of living – elephant, lion, kudu, zebra, buffalo, … all in the now lush green, over – watered African terrain of our planet Earth.

What a privilege and a pleasure to share in God’s creation!

Sky News reported yesterday that the British government had spent £2 million to research what made the British people happy. They found the following (and does this surprise you?):

The following, in order of importance, contributes to the happiness and well-being of the British people:

1.       Health

2.       Relationships with family and friends

3.       Relationships with spouse

4.       Economic well-being and job satisfaction

5.       The current and future state of our environment

I wonder where South Africans would place safety and security, and service delivery on this list.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

That’s COOL!

Tuesday 25 January 2011: 4 years 4 months on …

Yesterday, I went for my annual checkup (report back?) to the neurologist. I will disuss that later, because right now I am very excited and very humbled.

I have always said that the more you give in this life,the more you get back. And today has been no exception.

Lance du Plessis – my host at AlgoaFM for “ED is in wEd”, and the star of the show! – often jokes about the fact that the CBD has taken away my ability to feel the cold (as it has my sense of smell and taste).

Temperatures below freezing were my saving grace when I recently visited England and Ireland (read ED is in EnglanD and ED is in irElanD). I can walk around in shorts and a t-shirt and not feel the cold. Sean and Phillip even bought me a thermometer last year so that I could read the temperature and dress accordingly!

(Howver, I have to be careful because eventually the progression of this disease will lead to my dying from pneumonia. Right now, I am battling to get rid of a lung infection, and the antibiotics seem to be helping!)

 But the heat catches me. It washes me out and makes me extremely weary. I battled with the humidity and heat last week, and after leaving the AlgoaFM Studio, I stopped in at Cool Projects at 286 Walmer Boulevard to disuss the practicalities of an air-conditioner.

On Friday, Lindsay Caine, the sales rep, came to see me. We discussed the requirements, the practicalities, the positioning and the cost. Eventually, with a family discussion we decided that the main bedroom would be the appropriate place, as that would become my “home” as the CBD winds its wieldy way, and restricts my movements.

Today, Lindsay phoned me to inform me that her boss, Victor Pretorius, and Cool Projects, together with AlgoaFM, had agreed to sponsor the provision and the installation of an air-conditioning unit in our main bedroom!

How’s that for being Cool?

I am excited, I am grateful, I am thankful, I am so very humbled.

LG – Life’s Good 

 

Stop Worrying
(Luke 12:22-34)
25“That’s why I’m telling you to stop worrying about your life—what you will eat or what you will drink[k]—or about your body—what you will wear. Life is more than food, isn’t it, and the body more than clothing? 26Look at the birds in the sky. They don’t plant or harvest or gather food into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. You are more valuable than they are, aren’t you? 27Can any of you add a single hour to the length of your life[l] by worrying? 28And why do you worry about clothes? Consider the lilies in the field and how they grow. They don’t work or spin yarn, 29but I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was clothed like one of them. 30Now if that is the way God clothes the grass in the field, which is alive today and thrown into an oven tomorrow, won’t he clothe you much better—you who have little faith?266
31“So don’t ever worry by saying, ‘What are we going to eat?’ or ‘What are we going to drink?’ or ‘What are we going to wear?’ 32because it is the gentiles who are eager for all those things. Surely your heavenly Father knows that you need all of them! 33But first be concerned about God’s kingdom and his righteousness,[m] and all of these things will be provided for you as well. 34So never worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

Stuck at the Airport

Monday 10 January 2011: 4 years 4 months on …

Over the last few weeks we have heard many stories and seen many visuals of people stuck at airports in the United Kingdom, Ireland, Europe and North America. Unseasonable weather and heavy snowfalls created a knock-on effect and havoc around the world. People’s holiday, Christmas and New Year’s plans were thwarted and thrown into disarray.

That’s Life!

We can plan, set objectives and goals, make New Year’s resolutions and think that we have everything under control, but suddenly, and often, in the blink of an eye, God – or nature or the universe or some higher authority or life, or whatever we believe in – dictates otherwise.

As much as we think we ARE, the reality is just that we ARE NOT in control.

And, so, at times, we get stuck at the airports of Life.

I think of my own situation. It was slightly more than four years ago that I started realising that something was wrong. My left hand fingers weren’t doing what I was telling them to do and I was having problems shaving – I couldn’t get my left hand to my face!

Chiropractors, physiotherapists, doctors, neurosurgeons, neurologists, CAT and MRI scans set the investigatory pathway beyond cancer and tumours to Parkinson’s and then eventually to Corticalbasal Degeneration.

In that brief moment, sitting in the neurologist’s office at Tygerberg Hospital in Cape Town, my life – and that of those closest to me – was thrown into disarray. Our plans, our goals, our objectives, our lives, were thrown out of the window in the flash of a moment.

Just when I thought that my life’s Garmin was working at its best, when I thought that my GPS system can’t get it wrong, my way was lost. The snow had come and I was stuck at the airport!

When you lose your way with a GPS, you are told “recalculating” is taking place. New objectives and instructions are given to get you to your destination.

Similarly, when stuck at Life’s airports and at this time of each year, you need to take stock, “recalculate” and set yourself new goals, new plans and new objectives. Otherwise, things can go horribly wrong.

My diagnosis has got me stuck. And being stuck at my particular airport doesn’t make things easy. It’s the difference that one letter makes.

I am not stuck at Heathrow – I am stuck on Deathrow.

Whilst the rest of the world carries on ‘normally’, I (and my family for that matter) have become entrapped in an artificial cacoon – waiting for the inevitable to happen.

There’s no way back. I can’t go back to the Life that I knew. Right now, there is no way to reverse the CBD that I have. The damage has been done and cannot be repaired.

Each day, more and more snow falls. What started off as an exciting new challenge becomes a daunting future. The circumstances become increasingly difficult. And I am being worn down, day after day.  As the disease gives more of itself each day, it takes more of my body by paralysing it and more of my mind by confusing it. I become increasingly weary.

All that remains is to wait for that plane to arrive to take me to my Final Destination, and to make myself as comfortable as possible in the meantime.

And, in the meantime, like at the airport whilst the wait continues, the floor becomes hard, the lights go out, the services dry up, the money dries up, the patience runs out, the tempers fray, the information ceases and the waiting becomes intolerable.

I have said that I will party till the End. I am not being negative nor selfish but, please forgive me if there are times when I wish that End to arrive speedily, when I wish for that plane to arrive sooner rather than later. There are times when I consider all the possibilities of hastening the arrival of that plane – a mercy flight? – that will take me out of this uncomfortable hiatus.

I guess there are many people who have been stuck in similar circumstances before, and many will be stuck there in the future. Many are stuck with me right now!

It is not for us to judge their wishes. It is only when we, too, experience those circumstances, that we may be able to make an informed decision about their wishes and actions.

Is there ever a point when the quantity of life overrides the need for the quality of life?

 It is something that I wrestle with as the packing up and goodbyes commence and St Francis Bay and Holidays 2010/2011 come to an end.

 It is something that I wrestle with in my cacoon as I set my objectives, goals and plans for 2011.  

   

 

 

 

 

Icing on Chelsea Buns

 

Tuesday 22 June 2010:  3 years 9 months on . . .

I have always enjoyed travelling. Not that we travelled much as children.

In this week of Father’s Day, I have thought quite a bit about my own Dad. I have written previously about him having suffered a debilitating stroke when I was twelve years old. It left him speechless and paralysed his right arm and leg for eight years before he passed away in 1976. It left Mom, in her early forties, caring for a severely handicapped husband and four children – three at school and one who was only four when Dad was struck down.

Times were tight, but looking back on it now; Mom did an admirable job with very limited resources. Those resources did not enable us to holiday or travel.

But I was so privileged when I was selected to become an exchange student in 1975. (Read “Oklahoma is OK and so much more”)  In a space of that one year at the age of eighteen, I got to fly for the first time and to visit many exotic places including Buenos Aires (Good Air), Rio de Janeiro, New York City, Los Angeles (City of Angels) and still my personal favourite, Londres! I saw my first TV at our hotel in Buenos Aires, Argentina, where I watched the cartoon Road Runner, all in Spanish! It was truly “good air”!

Hence, my excitement now at having the World in our country. I remember landing at John F Kennedy Airport in New York City and seeing our (now old) SA flag flying there together with the flags of every nation on earth. It gave me goose bumps and I had to pinch myself that it was all true.

Now, it gives me goose bumps to see those self-same flags flying here in South Africa and to hear those national anthems being played here in our Cities. For us, and for me, the World has truly come home! (And, who knows, maybe the first real international flag that I ever saw in my life – that of Argentina – will be seen flying at the 2010 FIFA World Cup final next Sunday at Soccer City in Johannesburg! Or will it be the second flag that I saw – that of Brazil in Rio de Janeiro?)

When I boarded that Aereolinas Argentinas flight in Cape Town in January 1975 headed for Buenos Aires, my travelling days started. And so, it’s pretty safe to say that my itchy travelling feet started in Cape Town – still today, as Sir Francis Drake said so many years ago, the fairest Cape in all the world!

With my illness, travelling is not so easy any more. But, we were fortunate to have been in the Western Cape once more. And, so it was, that last Thursday saw us leaving Cape Town yet again. This time, on our return trip to Port Elizabeth after having spent some ten days in the Mother City.  (I always wonder when I leave whether I will be granted yet one more visit.)

Sean was at the wheel as we headed north along the N1 and Table Mountain recedes in your rear-view mirror. I was the front passenger, and Pera and Phil take up the back seats.

Ahead of us, lay the majestic dark blue mountains of the Klein Drakenstein and the Hugeneot Tunnel linking Paarl to Worcester. (In our family, still jokingly pronounced “War-Kes-Ter” from the days when the boys were not able to pronounce it properly as “Woes-ter”!)

But, today, the mountains looked distinctly different – as far as the eyes could see, the dark blue mountains silhouetted against the light blue sky were covered from top to bottom in snow-white snow! As Pera said, “It looks like the icing on Chelsea Buns!”

 

What a spectacle! All the way along the eight hundred kilometre road from Cape Town to Port Elizabeth, the clouds had pulled back – revealing blue skies and the mountains on either side of us covered in the icing. Some said it was the heaviest snowfall in fifty years. Well, the outside temperature varied between 5 and 10 degrees Celcius all the way back to the Eastern Cape!

We took a different route this time. From Worcester along what is known as Route 62, through Robertson, Montagu, Barrydale, Ladismith, Calitzdorp, Oudtshoorn, the Langkloof (Avontuur, Joubertina, Misgund, Kareedouw), Humansdorp and finally, ten hours later, Port Elizabeth.

The route brought back more memories – those of my days (15 months to be exact!) at the Infantry School in Oudtshoorn where I completed my military service in 1982/1983 after my studies at Stellenbosch University. It had been quite a change from the freedom and carefreeness of student life to the rigours of military discipline! So on those few weekend passes off, I used to escape Oudtshoorn and drive in the other direction back to Cape Town.

I relayed some of those memories to the family as we travelled along towards Oudtshoorn. Pera said she thought that the army had left “deep-rooted psychological scars”! – suffice to say that those two years for me were not always icing on the Chelsea buns.

In those years, there was a small labourers’ cottage next to the roadside halfway between Barrydale and Ladismith. Now, an enterprising person has transformed it into a roadside breakfast/coffee shop called Ronnies Sex Shop! It has become the toast of the world (pun intended!)

 

And when we stopped there in the middle of nowhere for coffee (no sex on the menu!), it seemed as if the world was there – Germans headed for the German/Serbia game in Port Elizabeth, and English headed for the England/Algeria game in Cape Town. Names and comments are written on every wall, in every nook and cranny, and business cards are pasted like wallpaper wherever possible.

 

Just after Ladismith is the Huisrivier Pass. Unlike most other passes that take you upward and over mountains, this one curves downwards into the river valley and then takes you up steeply again. Sean is in his element (and I get nervous!) when he can drive curves like this!

Then comes Calitzdorp, which is known as the Port Capital of South Africa. This appears to be quite an enigma as this town in the Little Karoo is nowhere near the sea. But this is not Port as in Port Elizabeth but Port as in the lovely sweet wine that is made from the grapes grown in this part of the world. Boplaas is the farm that has won numerous medals for its port and it belongs to Carel and Boets Nel who studied (and lived in Helshoogte Residence) with me at Stellenbosch. We discussed that soon, in accordance with European Union regulations, they will have to give up the name Port, as it is claimed to belong to the sweet wines of the Oporto region of Portugal and is contravening copyright and trademark regulations.

As one leaves Calitzdorp, you get that very distinctive smell that signifies that Oudtshoorn is close. In my military days, it was the first warning sign that your freedom was about to be lost. The next sign was the light on the concrete reservoir on top of Rooibult in the Infantry School. That meant there were 10 kilometres left to the statue of the infantryman pointing with his rifle towards the guardhouse at the entrance gate to the School.

I used to get to that point at about 23h30 on Sunday night (the pass expired at midnight). And that’s when I used to stop next to the roadside to change from my civilian clothes back into my military “step-outs” that I kept in my “wardrobe” – the boot of my red Toyota Corolla. One of my very important tasks in those days was to compile and read the early morning news at 5h30, 6h30 and 7h00 on the Infantry School’s closed circuit TV channel. It’s quite a shock to view those recordings now!

Today, I was excited when we got to that point. It was lunchtime and we were all hungry by now. But first, I took us on a drive past the Infantry School, the erstwhile Oudtshoorn Teachers’ Training College (now part of the Infantry School), the Parade ground, Uncle Samies Tuckshop and the Camp Take Aways Cafe. Then we headed for the restaurant that I could not remember its name but remembered for serving a good ostrich steak (Oudtshoorn, of course, also being well known for its ostriches and Cango Caves.) Well, we had a good laugh there – the dark coloured building that I recalled is now painted in bright yellow and red and serves as the Oudtshoorn branch of Adult World! Birds of a different breed, I guess!

Well, after driving through the town and past places such as the old Holiday Inn and Riempies Restaurant, we found a suitable place to eat, and then headed off down the Langkloof towards Port Elizabeth.

There was still excitement and icing on the buns here too, and even more so, because it was evident that there had been quite a bit of rain in our catchment area. (We were, of course, heading back towards our drought disaster area, water restrictions of 500l a day and, oh no, limited showers!)

And excited, too, because we were heading back to even more icing to follow the next day – we were fortunate to have tickets for Friday’s Germany versus Serbia football game at the Nelson Mandela Stadium in Port Elizabeth, Nelson Mandela Bay.