Told you we'd be back

Tuesday was sombre. Mo was returning to work the next day and was not happy. No matter what the circumstances in the past, he had never been the type to stress or worry, but somehow his current job has managed to rob him of this admirable quality and turn him into me.


By 14:00 the afternoon he had had enough of feeling sorry for himself and decided that he wanted to make the most of his last few hours of leave. So off we headed to the Du Kloof Resort and Trout farm once again.


Now you might remember our visit to Du Kloof Resort and Trout farm just over a week ago. (That would be the post in which I mistakenly referred to the place as Du Toit's Kloof Resort and Trout Farm).


This place has over the years provided us with the necessary stress relief and serenity whenever life has become too stressful.


Although we left at 15:00 we were sure that the remaining two hours before closing time would be more than adequate to work their magic on my gloomy husband.


The drive takes about 45 minutes from our home. I am usually in awe of the panoramic views from the bridge just before one hits the Huguenot Tunnel.

It is however the tunnel itself that has me feeling really claustrophobic. This has only started happening recently- since Mo closes all the car windows when we drive through the tunnel to keep the awful carbon monoxide fumes from entering the car. This part of the journey seems like an eternity.

When emerging from the tunnel, we were once again greeted by the most spectacular views of the surrounding mountains; which immediately had the desired effect upon Mo- as if by magic, he became calmer and, as usual, started fantasising about living in that region- isolated, among the beautiful mountains. And as usual, the kids yelled and screamed in protest that they would definitely move in with their granny should that move ever become a reality.

When we arrived at our destination we wasted no time in plunging into the refreshing waters. Oh, how delightful it was. There was not a soul around, which allowed me the freedom to forego my usual inhibitions and really enjoy myself freely.

After a while we all sprawled about on the rocks to absorb as much of their lovely warmth as we could. Since we reminded Mo of beached whales (in a river??) he felt compelled to snap a few pics. It was only when he tried to take some pictures of us from behind that I objected.

"Oh please don't take pictures from that angle," I appealed to him. "I don't want my bum being exposed on camera."

"Don't worry," he assured me. "That's not possible- this camera doesn't have a wide angle lens".

Bastard.

They DID warn us that there might be baboons

As usual we were sad to leave. But Aisha was tired and proceeded to have a mini-tantrum while we were packing up.

Shakeel was excited to spot the resident peacock and decided to play wildlife photographer by trying to sneak up on the confused bird to capture a good picture. He looked so comical that Mo, in turn decided to capture that sight on camera by trying to sneak up on Shakeel. Unfortunately neither photographer was able to obtain the quality of picture they desired.

The kids were exhausted on the trip home. Aisha was grumpy, so the kids managed the situation by letting her do whatever she pleased; which turned out to be scribbling all over her face- and Tharaa's.

We arrived home exhausted. The time at the river, though short, had been wonderful. So wonderful in fact, that we are in fact heading right back to the river at this very moment.

Fish and chips and sandcastles

On Monday we spent the first half of the day performing the uninspiring task of shopping for the older three kids' school supplies.


We had had no particular plans for the day, but since Mo's leave was coming to an end, he felt particularly restless- as if he wanted to cram as many activities as possible into his remaining time.


So off we headed to Hout Bay for a late lunch/early supper.


We took the Constantia Nek route, as we had preferred the serenity of the drive along that route to the busy (though equally scenic) Camps Bay-Llundudno route.


I love driving through Constantia toward Hout Bay. But just envisioning the plush mansions nestled discreetly behind the dense foliage which lines the road upon which we were driving- I'm ashamed to say- had me uncharacteristically green (probably allowing me to blend perfectly into my surroundings). I sat gawking at the beauty of the lush vegetation, particularly in awe of the magnificence of the vineyards covering the slopes of the Constantia valley.


I  tried to capture some of the beauty which I was beholding on camera, but for some strange reason all my pictures made it appear as if the day was misty, which it wasn't. Later Mo pointed out the reason- my lens was covered in fingerprints (probably mine).

Then in sharp contrast to the plush suburb of Constantia, we were provided with a stark reality check when we drove past the squatter camp at the entrance to Hout Bay- indicative of the unequal distribution of wealth still prevalent in South Africa almost 20 years after the end of apartheid.

  

Then onward to Hout Bay- toward the harbour where we were to buy our meals at one of the two places which are almost institutions in Cape Town; namely Snoekies and Fish on the Rocks. Our decision as to where to buy would depend on queues. Both places were packed to capacity.


We bought our food and then left the harbour area to have our meals in the car facing the ocean.

As soon as they were done, the kids leaped out of the car and proceeded to build sandcastles. I found it very amusing to watch Mo (who is a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to creating/ building/ restoring things), watch them build their lopsided castle  while trying not to intervene and show them the proper way to build a perfect castle.

Eventually he could no longer resist- and before you knew it, he had pretty much taken over. But the kids were not about to have their creativity stifled, so he was forced to step back as the castle was revamped to include a bridge leading to a castle restaurant.

Then came the best part for my destructive bunch- they thoroughly enjoy building their masterpiece completely and then at the count of 1-2-3, all of them will jump up and down on it until it has been completely flattened. This tradition originated from an incident which had taken place at Hermanus a few years ago. They had spent the entire afternoon building a very elaborate castle- when it was time to for them to leave a bunch of other kids simply moved in and were fortunate enough to enjoy the fruits of my not-so-generous kids' hard day's labour. That was when they decided that they would rather destroy their castles than suffer the invasion by a swarm of parasitic kids just waiting to move in. (They don't get that from me, I swear).

We took the Llundudno-Camps Bay route home. The moment that Llundudno comes into view is absolutely breathtaking. Although it was nearing sunset, one could not help but be impressed with the absolute magnificence of the views along that coastline. It truly is one of the most splendid sights to behold in this beautiful city of ours.

I once again realised that a trip to Hout Bay is about so much more than the destination. The entire journey is a an experience of exquisite scenery and natural wonders, which I am determined never to take for granted.

Does this mean I'm potty training?

I interrupt my normal scheduled blogging (i.e. gushing about all the dizzying holiday fun we've been having despite being too late to book a holiday away) to make the following announcement:

Since about 13:00 this afternoon, Aisha has peed on the toilet five times. I repeat- FIVE times.

Okay, I should probably add that she also peed on the floor twice. And that she did not actually say that she wanted to pee, and that she very likely is unaware when she is about to pee, since those FIVE times were as a result of us putting her on the toilet and leaving her there until she peed. And that as soon as we put a nappy back on later, she did not warn us when she had to pee, but simply then just proceeded to pee in the nappy.

Hmm, all of a sudden those FIVE times do not seem that impressive any longer.

Okay, but it's a first step, I suppose. But the first step to what? I had no intention of potty training now. In fact I'm not even using the word 'potty training' to describe this afternoon's phenomenon. It was more a way of preventing annoying puddles all over the place, since she kept pulling off her nappy (it was one of the last of a pack which is just about too small for her).

I'm not even sure I want to potty train now. Yes, I understand the cost implications of having a baby on nappies. But I also remember what a pain in the butt it is to have your eagerly anticipated steaming prawns platter placed in front of you at Jimmy's Killer Prawns; just to hear your toddler's whiny voice saying, "Mommy, I need to pee".

Which I will try to ignore at first- best to devour as much of my prawns while it's hot. Leaving my platter behind unguarded with prawn-loving Mo and Shakeel around would just be foolish. So I pretend to ignore the whiny toddler- risky, I know- until the next appeal (usually more urgent, this time). "Mommy I need to pee. Please take me to the toilet!"

Believe it or not, this is still a regular occurrence with seven-year old Nuha. I swear she has a bladder the size of a peanut. Am I ready to go through this with two kids? Probably not. But if she shows an interest in persisting with whatever this is, I will not discourage her.

The older kids are actually the ones encouraging her. They treat it like a game- as if it'd make a cool party trick. Firstly the girls sat on the toilet, while Aisha watched how each one peed (Disgusting, but true). This was accompanied by running commentary, "See Aisha- all you do is press (accompanied by pressing/pushing sounds) and, see- pee comes out. Now your turn!"

Each successful attempt was met with clapping, dancing and celebrating. I hope she won't be expecting this each and every time she pees. She is sure to be in for a major let-down when she starts primary school and no one jumps up and down with excitement each time she comes from the toilet. And if this persists she'll most likely expect a street parade the first time she poo's in the toilet.

Anyway, all this is very likely much ado about nothing- which is fine. Just thought it would make a nice memory for us to look back on one day when she's older- or a lovely story to share with any boy who visits looking for a first date.