MAGIC HAPPENS

On Sunday 13th October Tim Parr and Penny Levi played at The Bistro in Bathurst. It was Tim’s second performance there in as many months, having previously appeared there with Dave Goldblum on the 18th August to a sellout crowd. This time there were unfortunately, and disappointingly, far fewer people ............. but those who did not attend will sadly never know what they missed. Tim (previously of the 80’s Rock Band EllaMental), and his partner on bass, Penny, provided us with almost three hours of Tim’s original songs hugely enhanced by his extremely extensive and satisfying ‘self-taught’ guitar accompaniment. 

Penny Levi and Tim Parr at the Bistro

The highlight of the evening for the exclusively Bathurstian audience however, was when he invited owner of the Bistro Anne Katz and husband Barry to join him and Penny on stage………. where, with no warning whatsoever, they suddenly launched into a rendition of Van Morrison’s 1970 hit, Moondance. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but a certain kind of magic happened - and it blew everyone who was there away. They then followed up with Annie and Barry’s  now almost signature rendition of ‘Dance me to the end of love’, always inclusive of their own very special sense of each other and Barry’s very soulful scat trombone which never ceases to surprise.

Penny, Anne, Barry and Tim

On both of Tim’s visits we were fortunate enough to have him stay with us at No.6 York Road, and this time round he and Penny decided to stay an extra night. We decided this would be the ideal opportunity for the two of them to get to know Anne and Barry better so Pat prepared a curry followed by her always special bread pudding and the evening got going.  Anne’s 14 year-old son Tainn joined us, much I am sure to his ultimate musical delight. He is learning to play guitar at the moment, and as the evening progressed Tim decided that they should all fetch their instruments and begin jamming. It is absolutely apparent that the man quite simply loves music and can never get enough.

Anne, Barry, Tainn, Pat, Penny and Tim on the deck at No.6 York Road - playing beautiful music and getting to know each other

Immediately another kind of magic began to unfold with five very relaxed musicians blending and metaphorically holding musical hands - Anne’s oh so soulful accordion  pushing out sounds reminiscent of various Grappelli violin solos seemed to lay a soft and welcoming bed for the three guitars to rest on, with Tim all the time coaching young Tainn along divergent paths to new sounds as they played. Sitting on the outside listening and watching, Pat and I felt extremely privileged to have been a part of the magic that surrounded us. Thanks you guys - all of you - we must be sure to do it again sometime.

REMINISCENCES OF ROB PIENAAR

Growing up at 28 Nicholson Street in Pretoria there was a huge Mulberry tree on the South West side of the house which, at this time of the year, would more often than not find me and my long-time friend and then neighbor Rob Pienaar high up in its branches literally stuffing ourselves with its sweet black fruit, and much to the consternation of our mothers, getting our clothes horribly stained with the unavoidable juice of the ripe fruit. 

A few days ago I was busy picking mulberries off the tree at the bottom of our Bathurst garden and was obliged to spend some quality time with Rob, casting my mind back and remembering those childhood days along with a great many others that we shared over the years. Rob is no longer with us, having taken leave of this mortal coil a little over a year ago, almost exactly two years to the day after he was diagnosed with incurable bone cancer.  

The last time that I saw Rob was about three weeks before that fateful diagnosis when we met at the Himeville Inn late on the evening of the 14th August 2016 with a view to tackling the Sani Pass the next day and spending a couple of days thereafter traveling through Lesotho before heading our separate ways back to the daily drudge.

Rob with his trusty Landy half way up the pass (Annie was behind the wheel going for her Sani ticket)

Earlier that year Rob, Peter Davidson, Sean Lance and Donald Kennedy had all very kindly made the trek to Cape Town to help me celebrate my 70th along with a whole bunch of other good people, and at my son Caradoc’s bequest Rob took up where he left off after his speech as my best man at our wedding almost 50 years earlier and said a few well chosen words littered with reminiscences. 

Annie, Rob and Pat at the 'Highest Pub in Africa'

Himeville and Lesotho were different. There, over a couple of extended dinners, and over lunch and drinks at the Highest Pub in Africa, we played prolonged games of “when we” - reminiscing about the times exploring the then wild and wooly stretch of river that is now Magnolia Dell - re-enacting the Tarzan legend until it literally became a part of our personas - dressing up as Knights of the Round Table and jousting with broom sticks until one of us inevitably got hurt, and jumping our bikes over barrel ramps - again until one of us had an accident and plasters had to be found. Nights when we would sneak out of our parents’ houses and go and play Tok-Tokkie, happily riling the neighbors to the point of having some of them appear at their doors with pistols.

We remembered when we each got our Fiat 850’s within a few days of each other sometime in ’67 or early ’68, and the camping trips we took with Pat and Laura up to the then newly opened Blyde Rivier Dam, the Canyon, and a host of other obscure but very beautiful Eastern Transvaal spots ……….. driving roads in those little cars that today we would think twice about doing in our respective 4x4’s.

We talked about our times in the UK - our trips down to Devon and Cornwall, the walks on the rocks and beaches around Polperro - the shows we took in and the pubs we visited during that period of our lives in London. A lot of great memories.

Then from around 1977 through to about 2013 ……………… nothing! We lost touch until fate had us searching for each other on social media and seemingly finding each other literally within hours of starting the search. The rest is recent history.

Rob visited us in Cape Town thereafter on a couple of occasions, and plans were made to get together for various overlanding trips, but somehow work always seemed to get in the way until we were able to hook up briefly for the Lesotho time together.

Our move to Bathurst in May of 2018 sparked a new barrage of plans for him to come down and visit a part of the world he had never seen, and it was at his funeral that Laura mentioned to me that he had apparently booked a flight to PE just a couple of days before his passing - confiding to her that his plan was to hire a car and surprise us before carrying on down to Stellenbosch for his Granddaughter’s christening. 

Alas - this was not to be. On Sunday the 9th September Rob’s sister Louise called me to tell me that Rob was gone. In his inimitable style he quietly unloaded his coil at his flat on the Thursday before. No notes, no names, no packdrill. I had spoken with him just a little over a week before and had been given no inkling of any intentions in this regard ………….. but we had often discussed the possibility of an exit action should things approach limits beyond our control. Well done Rob, I only hope that I am able to muster the kind of courage you have displayed when I reach that stage. Whichever road it is that you are travelling, ENJOY! I remember you oh so well.