Surely Sundays Are Fun Days

In all my born days, I never thought I would say "whoopee! Sundays are fun days". I’m a boarder, for goodness’ sake. We loathe Sundays. Turn on a radio, and I recall Esmè Everard’s distinctive lilt as she read messages from Mums and girlfriends on “Forces Favourites”. That's my cue to sink into a downward-spiralling, melancholic sulk—morose, miserable Sundays that press heavily on my chest like a massive concrete block.

Things have changed. After weekends away, we mostly return home on a Sunday afternoon, as we’re both keen to clock in at the local gym at an ungodly hour on a Monday morning. The benefits will show in our twilight years, as we prepare for an active, downhill, slippery slide into oblivion. At least we’ll be fit.

This is not debatable. It’s a no-brainer. The Western Cape is the best place to be. Cape Town hasn’t been voted the number one city in the world by everyone in the know for no reason. It’s simply stylish, fabulous, and always festive. Summers are sultry, sublime, and sexy, with plenty of options for day trips.

Within a few kilometres of most homes, you can enjoy a variety of outdoor activities, such as hiking, visiting vineyards, or relaxing under a friend’s oak tree, fostering a sense of endless exploration.

We love bouncing out of bed on a Sunday, packing up, loading our cameras, and heading out in any direction, feeling the thrill of spontaneous adventure before sunset.

Last week, it was Open Garden in Elgin, a beloved local event that draws both seasoned garden enthusiasts and curious travellers. This annual event takes place on the last weekend in October and again on the first weekend in November. Judging by the number of vehicles on the N2, it’s a tremendous success, with visitors arriving from near and far. We visited 6 gardens, and each one, although different in layout, style, and size, had one thing in common. Magnificent.

Roses are prolific, and this year’s blooms filled the air with their enchanting fragrance. Take a deep breath and feel your mind, body, and soul relax and rejuvenate, inspiring admiration for these beautiful gardens.

We are always overwhelmed by the dedication, love and foresight shown by the gardeners who so lovingly plan, plant, and tend these gardens—English gardens, French box borders, and Fynbos gardens dedicated exclusively to indigenous plants. There are scented gardens, herb gardens, vegetable gardens, orchards and vineyards—just a few of the gardens we enjoyed. Many gardens have nurseries where plants can be purchased.

I come from a long line of women who tended spectacular gardens with ardour; my Mum’s 3-hectare subtropical garden in Hazyview seemed to go on forever, a child’s dream where I spent many hours searching for nests and eggs. Like geckos, my brother and I could laze on large, flat rocks, watching the world go by, or ride our bicycles along the winding paths. My Grandmama’s spidery legs were always straddling a herbaceous border, digging away in a flower bed.

Tea times in my garden with my growing children and my father-in-law have left a lasting impression, and all the hours I spent weeding, digging, and planting surely saved my life. I hope my stories inspire you to cherish and create your own outdoor sanctuary, just as my family did. I am always awestruck by gardeners' dedication and grateful for the chance to wander through their beautiful creations. I tip my sunhat and salute you all for your passion and perseverance, which bring so much joy and tranquillity to our lives.

Tea was a delightful affair, and we enjoyed Ceylon tea and apple cake with clotted cream. Two small sisters danced ballet on the lawns, enjoying the freedom of Wanda Molteno’s formal English terraced garden. Little Miss Ballerina didn’t bat an eyelash as she told us how bravely she sat and trotted on a Shetland pony and how petrified her friend was. He bravely tried to deny the allegation, but after a nanosecond recalled the fearsome ride, he relented, shoulders sagging. Too precious he was.

All the walking and swooning soon took their toll, and we decided it was time to relax with a tall, tinkling drink. We headed off to Oak Valley Flowers and the Pool Room Restaurant. Our table was set in the shade of a large tree on the pool’s edge. Perfect. All around us, families gathered, some on the sprawling lawns enjoying their picnic baskets, while others, like us, were spoilt at tables under umbrellas and trees around the pool.

Our choices were spot on, and Butch waxed lyrical about his delectably tender, flavoursome Sirloin steak; he really did carry on about it. My acorn-fed pork loin chop was delicious and laid my fears of a tough, dry chop to rest. Without further ado, I must get to dessert. It was the Chocolate Pannacotta, served with a creamy ball of Mocha ice-cream, slices of caramelised banana, and a coulis, that made my day. Heaven on a plate.

It always pleases and thrills me to see how the wine industry’s expansion into hospitality has been a renaissance for hundreds of unskilled rural men and women. It’s heart-warming to see these intelligent, diligent, hardworking young people going about their profession with skill. Our attendant, Jesmine, was delightfully charming and promised us the best table in the house when she becomes the manager!

After lunch, we set off for Fresh Woods, a featured garden in Remarkable Gardens of South Africa and Gardens To Inspire, among others. A large, rambling, romantic plantsman’s garden with a wide variety of rhododendrons, wild hydrangeas and Japanese maples.

Elgin Open Gardens is well advertised on its website, www.elginopengardens.co.za, and can be emailed at [email protected]. It is advisable to make luncheon reservations well in advance, as most establishments are chock-a-block. All gardens are child-friendly; a few don’t allow dogs, and those that are wheelchair- or partly wheelchair-friendly are marked on the information flyers.

Relevant information can be downloaded and printed, which I did so we could plan our route and make reservations beforehand. All entrance fees are donated to local charities.

I drifted off to sleep as Butch drove us home, thinking about improvements to my small seaside garden. Sadly, with water restrictions looming in the Western Cape, most gardens will be severely traumatised this year, and I can see the effects of the drought each time I look out of my bedroom window; the once-lush, emerald lawn has deteriorated into a sad-looking excuse for a lawn. My one joy is the little Cape Robin, who still splashes in the birdbath and, on occasion, sits on the bathroom windowsill. 

It's tradition in our home to gather for a film on a Sunday evening; nothing's changed. It's time for tea and Marmite toast as we consider our options.

THE POOL ROOM RESTAURANT

Tel: 021 859 4111
www.oakvalley.co.za

Email: [email protected]