Gifting Memories - La Colombe and Kleinbosch Kloof

A few years ago, we invited a granddaughter for a camping weekend in Prince Albert, hoping to cherish simple pleasures and make memories. It was a chance to get to know her better and for her to experience some things we enjoy. As luck would have it, it coincided with the Olive Festival, so we had much to explore and enjoy. I have vivid memories of her playing in the water voortjie (channel) with a posse of local children, enjoying the freedom and spontaneity of simply being a child.

The weekend left such an impression on her that she keeps asking us to make a return trip with her. We hope an opportunity will present itself to make this a reality in the future.

Our own childhood memories are often about experiences rather than the toys we received, although I do remember the Walking-Talking Doll my Dad brought me from England. She stood a few inches taller than I. I can’t remember ever playing with her; she was more of a see-but-don’t-touch gift. In retrospect, I wonder why one has gifts like that at all.

As we get older, we find ourselves increasingly out of touch with gifting, as I often found myself giving things I’d really like. Right now, we have very little we “need,” and we are more inclined to make memories for the future.

At some point last year, a dear friend decided to clear out her cupboards and found a wardrobe full of soaps, lotions, and treats. I ended up with a box of old soaps, bath bombs that no longer fizzed, and lotions that had lost their perfume. That experience led me to decide never to keep anything for a rainy day. The rainy day never comes, and if it does, the perfume we’ve been saving will have gone rancid. It's really sad, since the giver had the best intentions of making an occasion special. I believe every day is special, and every day, with its trials and tribulations, needs a treat to lift our spirits.

Butch will treat himself to a good Single Malt after work, and I’ll douse myself in my favourite perfume while lounging in my favourite PJ’s. Threadbare they might be, but they remind me to appreciate everyday comforts, even when I’m rushed off to the hospital (Many older folk keep a drawer filled with beautiful things, especially for the ambulance trip to the hospital or the morgue!).

Last year was a big one; the 49ers turned 70. To celebrate, we went out for dinner at La Colombe in Constantia. Voted one of the Top 10 Restaurants in the country, we thought it would be the ultimate way to celebrate a very special friend’s birthday. It certainly was. In February, we set off on a dining adventure.

We popped edible eggs, masterfully crafted and filled with a palate-cleansing nectar, into our mouths in the foyer. A taste explosion followed. Dining here must be called Theatre. Each act was a visual story on a plate. Every plate was creatively prepared to satisfy all the senses. Our servers, the actors, added to the drama with passion. We, the audience, were encouraged to enjoy every morsel with gusto, and we did. An experience hard to trump. A veritable Midsummer Night’s Dream. It is our hope, of course, that this will set the stage for the next decade of our Birthday Girl’s life, creating memories to cherish together.

Please forgive my enthusiastic photography; I can’t resist. I do note Heston Blumenthal’s gripe that diners drive him crazy with their photography. He claims it spoils the dining experience. Really? I say snap on! Beauty needs to be recorded for the memory bank.

Now it was Butch’s turn to be treated, so we were whisked off for a weekend in Clanwilliam on a working farm. Our destination, Klein Boskloof Chalets, is nestled in the unspoilt Boskloof Valley, which borders the Cederberg Wilderness area and lies just 9km from the charming town of Clanwilliam. Three lovingly restored Cape Dutch cottages, surrounded by lush gardens and rolling green lawns, offered us a peaceful retreat in this beautiful setting.

The property belongs to the well-known Cape Town architect Gilbert Colyn, who specialises in the Cape vernacular. The restoration of these cottages took place several years ago, when Colyn and a few labourers did all the work themselves, using the same traditional methods as when the buildings were erected centuries ago—a labour of love. Beautiful whitewashed walls, deep windowsills, yellow wood ceilings, clay tiles on the floor, arbours, and deep verandas with vine-covered pergolas and sash windows, all painted Cape Bottle green.

We enjoyed lazy hours on deck chairs around the pool, lit fires and braaied on perfect evenings. We didn’t do much walking, but we strolled down the Main Road in Clanwilliam on Saturday morning and were invited to peek inside the Yellow Aloe guesthouse, with its maze of paths, chimes, and interesting seating areas.

We slept late and went to bed at a reasonable hour. Eskom was kind and pulled the switch only once, but we had contingency plans in place, and the solar lights came on. A special treat was watching the mountain peak turn from brown to gold, then pink and mauve, as the sun set. We enjoyed breakfasts on the green lawns in dappled shade, chatting up a storm. We were treated to our very first Oat Bircher, which we thoroughly enjoyed and is now a staple in our fridge. (Recipe to follow)

The showers were excellent, and the complimentary toiletries were luxurious. I always forget something. We couldn’t resist leaving with a basket of Limoncello and delicious homemade marmalade. We all agreed that Klein Boschkoof had revived our spirits and that a weekend felt like a week.

Our road trips are never complete without a few pit stops for coffee or lunch. On Friday, en route, we stopped at Du Toitskloof Cellar for morning coffee at Old Meul Bakery. Already buzzing at 9h30, it was a good omen as we sat down on the lawns. Megan and I never resist scones with strawberry jam and cream, while the boys had something else. We were disappointed, as the scones were stale. Not even the day’s batch. The question is always, “How difficult is it to bake fresh scones daily, or how difficult is it to freshen day-old scones?” Not terribly. I never complain, but this time I did mention it to our server. Here is a bistro with a captive audience, being the first after Du Toitskloof Pass, and they serve day-old, dried-out scones. Not good enough.

Lunch was a picnic on a potato farm close to our destination. But to get there, we had to travel long distances on dirt roads (our favourite choice). Lo-and-behold, just a few kilometres from our picnic spot, a puncture. This is not a party trick, although I sometimes doubt it. Within seconds, our tyre was flat, shredded on the cutting edge of a stone. Butch, not fazed, got on with the job while we almost perished in the heat! We were delighted to use our friend’s house for our picnic.

We had plenty of time, so we visited Donkieskraal, a game reserve a few kilometres from our friend’s farm near Leipoldville. Nestled in the hills, the rooms are built around the rock formations. Bathrooms are set within enormous boulders, giving the impression of outdoor showering. In the extreme heat, I am sure the rocks, which are always cool, will dramatically reduce indoor temperatures. The site offers cottages, tents, and camping facilities. There are communal braai areas, dining rooms, function rooms, and even a convention centre. It's the ideal place to get away from it all and host a family reunion, wedding, or special celebration. We didn't see one, but we believe there is a game drive, and the farm boasts a variety of antelope. Very rustic, very quaint, very original, and away from it all.

While in the area, we did make a quick stop in Leipoldville too. Not much going on there, but we could buy bottled water. We didn’t linger.

On our way back from our lovely weekend at Klein Boschkloof Farm, we decided to end the festivities on a high note and stopped for lunch at the Riebeeck Kasteel Hotel, on their beautiful, wide stoep facing the street. We all had different main courses: I had beautiful Mushroom Gnocchi, and someone else had scrumptious Pork Belly. Desserts weren’t encouraged, so we went off and had a lovely Gelato at the new ice cream parlour. Their ice creams come all the way from the Magaliesberg! Very good indeed. It was time to return home and put our shoulders to the wheel.

The idea of celebrating our birthdays, making memories, and going off for a treat really resonated with me, and I think this is the way to go. Now we have lovely photographs, we’ve all had an adventure together, and one day, when we’re snoozing on the Home for the Aged’s veranda, we can look back on a splendid time spent with our friends.

In the time of COVID-19, it is probably a good idea to explore our own doorsteps and not venture too far from home.