ON THE BEACH

Some of you who read this blog may be old enough to recall a Stanley Kramer movie starring Gregory Peck and Ava Gardner based on a book by Nevil Shute that was released in 1959 …………… “On the Beach,”. I was thirteen at the time and it frightened the hell out of me. I’m still frightened.

A silent and deserted Bathurst

I shall never forget the scenes of an utterly deserted San Francisco following a Northern Hemisphere nuclear war, and the final shot of a dead and deserted Melbourne after it succumbs to creeping radiation, which left me fearful for a very long time. Going out onto to our pavement here at the centre of Bathurst late this morning after a live online video chat with all our children and grandchildren everywhere, and looking down an utterly deserted York Road towards an equally deserted Pig ’n Whistle verandah and car park, I was reminded of those scenes in the movie, and a horrible chill ran down my spine.

On the Beach confronts the viewer with a number of questions: How would you behave if—in the aftermath of a nuclear apocalypse—you knew you only have a few weeks or months left to live? Would you carouse riotously, knowing the end is near? Deny that the entire thing is happening? Hope against all logic for a miraculous reprieve? Try to maintain a core of decency in the face of imminent death? Wish that you had done something long ago to prevent nuclear war in the first place? Questions not too dissimilar to some of those we are asking now.

Very much used to the hustle and bustle of Bathurst on Sunday mornings - people arriving for services at the Methodist church across the road from our house - more people arriving for breakfast at the Bistro and more still always arriving for a late morning ‘regmaker’ at the Bathurst Arms……..traffic and car doors opening and closing. Diagonally across from us and well within ‘noise’ distance the verandah at the Pig is always humming by mid-morning and it is impossible to escape the brulllll of motorcycles arriving there on breakfast runs from far and wide.

Outside and in front of our house there will be a slow but steady flow of locals with their dogs, who like us, generally take a leisurely walk down to the farmers market for one of Mike’s ‘moer’ coffees and a pancake or bacon and egg roll made by the indefatigable Sandy  - all enjoyed in the company of friends and neighbours revelling in the ambience of our very special village …………… but not today - day 3 of lockdown.

Today the silence has been eerie beyond words for most of the morning ………… broken only towards lunch time by the sounds of voices on the verandah outside the pizza joint alongside Tekserve - some individuals no-doubt breaking isolation in search of company and food. Be it on their own heads!  We can only hope that none are infected - and that if they are they don’t pass it on to any unsuspecting friends or family whose immune systems aren’t quite up to scratch. Rather than pizza, they should perhaps rather have stocked up on Matzos because when they get the virus that’s all their friends and family are going to be able to get under the door.

In coming to terms with the silence and isolation some very special things are happening. At about 11am today we were blown away by the shrilling of possibly 50 or more Green (Redbilled) Wood-Hoopoes that had uncharacteristically gathered in the large tree on the Bistro’s pavement ………… with the usual car noise and banging of doors they would never have been there. We sometimes get small groups in our garden, but these were something special indeed. And yesterday while tackling  my 45 minute spell of lawn-mowing that I try to do each day to keep this one-acre nightmare under control (as well as viewing it as much needed exercise), two glossy Starlings spent the entire period hopping about within one metre of the mower in search of disturbed insects …………. of which there are a great many I might add - most of which seem to enjoy making a meal out of my ankles, calves and thighs.

The garden also seems to be thoroughly enjoying the silence, and blooms of every conceivable kind are popping out everywhere making a walk around the estate an absolute pleasure with a continuity of pleasant little assaults on the senses. Colours, shapes and scents are simply everywhere. When I compare this garden to what it was two years ago when we arrived ……….. "WOW Pat”, is actually all I can say - you have really worked miracles in the sixteen months since you started work on it.

As you scroll down all of the pictures are from my walk through the garden this morning...........but please keep reading.

We have a huge Euphorbia cactus which lives in the very large Coral tree in our garden - about ten days ago it presented us with stacks of the most beautiful flowers, most of which are going to turn into the incredible Dragonfruit which is really one of the tastiest fruits around - but we have to keep a careful eye and pick them as they ripen otherwise the monkeys will take most of them as they did last year.

The Euphorbia Cactus Flower and Dragonfruit

One of the things we always keep a relatively good stock of are the mussels that we go down to Kenton to pick each Spring low, and last night we hauled out a bunch of these for an amazing white wine and cream mussel spaghetti ………….. so sorry we couldn’t have a few of you around to enjoy it with us, but maybe some other time. We have also found time to pick apples and quinces - lots of apple sauce, some apple jelly ………. and then yesterday four bottles of really delicious quince jelly found their way onto the shelves.

Our last bit of socializing before lockdown has been with my cousin on my mother’s side - John Weir and his good wife Lynda, both of whom we had not seen for thirteen years (John fortunately remembers these things). They have a caravan and spend a good deal of their time wandering around South Africa, spending extended periods in campsites located in places they enjoy. As is usual with John I got a call out of nowhere telling me that they were at the Medolino campsite in Port Alfred …………… we would much rather have had them come and park off at our place and stay in one of our rooms which are there for family and friends - but, they like their independence, so Medolino it was. 

John and Lynda arrived just as the Hunt’s (our daughter-in-law in Australia’s parents who have bought a house in Bathurst), were leaving, but we did manage to have a braai with all present before they took off. Being a really keen golfer John takes every opportunity to play the courses in the areas where he stays, but did find the Royal Port Alfred a little over the top in terms of fees compared to what he is used to paying elsewhere, so made a few trips up to the Fish River before I suggested that the two of us go and knock about on the Mashie course at the RPA where a round costs the princely sum of R10.00. It is thirty three years since I last swung a club, and with a totally stuffed rotator cuff on each shoulder I was somewhat afraid of what I might be left with after trying to swing a club or two. 

Tom Barrett very kindly lent me a 7 iron, pitching wedge and putter along with four balls. The first hole is across a pond where I promptly hit two balls straight into the water - ever fearful of even trying to swing properly because of my shoulders. After about six holes and as many duffed shots I finally said “Stuff it”, or words to that effect and finally opened up ……… no pain at all - and finally a golf shot or two of sorts. I even managed a par on the eighth ……….. whoopee! Fortunately there were some guys selling cheap balls on the course as I managed at least three hooks out onto the road and two more slices into the water. But what a lot of fun we had - I will definitely do it again. We managed a break at the campsite after the golf, and a delicious lasagne at home the night before they left to get back home to the Big Smoke (Benoni), before the lockdown. Good times indeed.

The next three weeks promise to be extremely informative - they will, I am sure, take their toll on many of us in a great many different ways, but they do present the opportunity to re-establish relationships at many different levels - for parents who see little (or often next to nothing), of their children during the week, to bond again - to do all of those chores that have for so long been left undone - spend time together cooking and baking - making jams and preserves etc., etc. These are actually, in many ways, the best of times.

Stay safe - stay happy.

COVID-19 & SETTLER COUNTRY

Question marks ……….. Question marks????? 

Now about to celebrate its 200th anniversary the Settler village of Bathurst has, along with the rest of the world, been thrown into turmoil. Our village traditionally has a few important events at this time of year which are essential to the survival of its little micro-economy and micro-community. All of these have had to at least be postponed - if not cancelled …………….. and while I won’t pretend to be au-fait with all of the ramifications, I can surmise: The cancellation of the Bathurst Agricultural Show and all of its cattle and other stock auctions must, I am sure, have  a negative effect on farming in the district in a number of ways, not least of which is the money generated that won’t be available to ply back into the various sectors of the industry. 

The exhibitors that come from far and wide to this very special show can also unfortunately now only look forward to a vastly diminished revenue due to lack of sales, and the wide range of artists and crafters who rely on the show for increased sales will be seriously hurt …… they don’t even have alternative opportunities as markets everywhere have been cancelled. Also, a great many residents of our local township rely substantially on the work that the show provides for them ……… it is going to be a very lean winter.

Our restaurants, pubs and accommodation providers all rely heavily on the Agri Show, the Book Fair, the Easter Holidays and the annual Dog show as revenue earners to help them limp through the winter months. Unfortunately not this year…………….and the restrictions on trading hours are further going to impact their losses. We really do feel for them, and for ourselves .......... what started out as a really profitable April for us in terms of accommodation bookings at No.6 York Road has dwindled to a big fat zero as a result of cancellations, ably assisted by our decision to cancel the one or two bookings that weren’t cancelled purely from a “stop the risk of infection” point of view in an effort to keep the house free of potential contamination.

We have also taken the decision to forego any domestic or gardening assistance until this thing blows over and rather tackle everything ourselves in the interim, and have further decided to also forego all and any extra-mural activities that can’t be enjoyed in the open air and at an adequate distance from any possible threat. 

We know that many of our friends consider this to be ridiculously OCD, but this virus doesn’t take any prisoners, and the very nature of our South African society with its townships and informal settlements where people often live anything up to eight or more in a ten square metre space precludes anything that smacks of voluntary (or forced) isolation, and testing facilities too are woefully inadequate in the event of suspected contamination ……… these people are normally an everyday part of all our lives - we really do feel for them, but why take the chance.

Rather safe than sorry ………. and we would encourage all our fellow citizens to give very serious thought to the consequences of carelessness, not just for ourselves, but moreso for the domino effect that might result from innocent and unsolicited contact with people and objects that just a few weeks ago we all took forgranted.

But……………….. all of this has a bright side too. It gives us time to meditate - to think about the roller-coaster ride that is life, and allows us (in our isolation), to take the time to once again smell the roses - to listen and look at the birds and the beauty that surrounds us - to get our hands covered in clean dirt as we sort and plant what we want in our gardens - to revel in the smell of new-cut grass as we toil with the lawn mower. Then ……….. when totally knocked out by all this unfamiliar effort, it allows us the time to sit back without interruption and enjoy a tipple as we marvel at the sunset and the sounds of the evening as the crickets and other insects begin their night-time choir. Moreover - we are very fortunate that the virus has chosen this time of the year to present itself ………… take the time, as evening approaches, and simply enjoy the light, it really is very special around about now as we move into our southern hemisphere autumn.

To all our friends and family - wherever you might be - this, right now, is World War 3 ………………. be mindful - take great care and above all, be safe……………let’s all be sure to survive it.

Herewith some of those things we now have a little more time to contemplate - ENJOY!

GREATER DOUBLE-COLLARED SUNBIRD  (Cinnyris afer)

CAPE WEAVER (Ploceus capensis) 

Pano of the sunset from our deck on Wednesday evening this week

FORK-TAILED DRONGO Dicruris adsimilis (One our many resident garden birds)

Another shot of the sunset

GOODBYE HAROLD

On Christmas Eve 1968 the SA Oranje docked in Southampton and we caught the train to London. Christmas Day was a disaster with absolutely nothing open anywhere to have a meal in the centre of the city ………. we finally ended up in a Wimpy alongside the entrance to the Regent’s Park Hotel where the only thing on the menu was chips. What an exciting Christmas dinner that was. 

On Boxing Day we met up with Pat’s cousin, Harold Brassel, who had at that stage already been resident in London for about 15 years. A gentler, more accommodating soul you simply could not wish to meet, and we became lifelong friends, meeting regularly during our seven something years sojourn in the UK, and then again, after Harold moved back to South Africa, as often as we were able considering it meant commutes between Cape Town and Hermanus on the Cape South Coast.

Harold, Pan Awsumb and myself at our flat at 44 Grays Inn Road - 1971

This year as always we tried to call Harold on the 28th February - his birthday - only to receive a message that the number no longer existed. Pat called her brother Kevin to confirm the number, and after he had the same problem he contacted the retirement home where Harold lived only to be told that he had passed away sometime last year.

Harold was getting on - yes - he was probably close to ninety or thereabouts, but the last time we spoke to him he was fully compos mentis, even if a little deaf, so this came as somewhat of a shock. He was a very organized person and always kept all relevant information regarding family and friends in a book that he would proudly consult whenever mention of contacts over the years arose, and I find it quite astounding that his sister’s children who benefitted quite extensively from the sale of his house in Hermanus at no stage took the time to consult this book and contact his family in Pretoria and Cape Town, all of whom we know were listed in that book.

One wonders at what must have been a very lonely - and frightening - period for him as he approached death ………… despite his remarkable intellect, which I am sure he used to rationalize the situation. But more - I wonder who, if anyone, attended his funeral, and if there was a memorial service of any kind?

Sad ……….. very sad, that such a remarkable intellect and really superb artist should end his days in this way. Happily we have a couple of his engravings to remember him by, along with a beautiful litho print of zebras out on the plains ………….. along with the memories of many evenings spent with him and some of his fascinating friends ………. as well as days and evenings spent at our places in London and Henley with a variety of our friends who enjoyed Harold as much as we did.

I recall our first ever sojourn out into the streets of London shortly after we arrived there - the No.1 hit of the day was Lily the Pink by a group called Scaffold, and Harold took us along to a pub somewhere in Picadilly to see them live. The Scaffold were a comedy, poetry and music trio from Liverpool, England, consisting of musical performer Mike McGear, poet Roger McGough and comic entertainer John Gorman. Roger McGough was at the time the British Poet Laureate and Mike McGear (real name Peter Michael McCartney), was the brother of Paul McCartney, so for us this initial introduction to the London Pop Culture was really something special ………….. but only the first of a great many wonderful memories of the period and our life (before kids) in “Swinging London”.

Thank you Harold.

Harold, Pat and Pat's sister Maureen in Hermanus - April 2008

Harold at Mogg's Country Cookhouse, Hemel en Aarde Valley - 2015

The last time we saw Harold was about five years ago, we had gone through to Hermanus to collect him and then out to the always very beautiful Hemel en Aarde Valley and the most wonderful lunch at a little family restaurant called Moggs Country Cookhouse (if you’re in the area be sure to make a booking), where we had a great meal and sat for a long time chatting about old times and old friends, ticking off all sorts of boxes. We’re really going to miss you my friend - have a good journey wherever it might take you.

On a slightly brighter note, Harold was almost as a big a fan of the whole Monty Python phenomenon as I was, and I am sure that he would have enjoyed Eric Idle’s quite remarkable Sortabiography as much as I have. Lee and Chavane gave me this as a Christmas/Birthday gift this year and I am deeply grateful. What a rollicking read from a man who has simply never stopped creating and forming close and lasting friendships with virtually everyone in Showbiz, from George Harrison and the Beatles through to Paul Simon, Director Mike Nichols, and a great many more names that encompass the last 50 years of British and American Stage, Screen and Music Stars. Not to be missed!