Sunday, August 2, 2009

A winter Sunday

Sunday, the best day of the week. The day to kick back, unwind, chill out, and spend time doing whatever you love.

These late winter days are like champagne, fresh and pettilant. There's a little crispness in the air but it's golden with sunshine, the sky a huge blue canopy thrown above your head. The Valley is probably at its most beautiful - the wheatfields are intense emerald, the rows between the dormant vines bright green, the distant mountains shades and layers of blue.

I sat this morning with the sun on my back under the huge tree and the umbrellas at Cafe oppie Square, drinking an excellent coffee with some of my family after a late, late night. What bliss - the best coffee and some people you love and time to talk and laugh.

Last night we ate at Bar Bar Black Sheep, where the staff could not be friendlier. In fact many of them are my friends. Last night Derek was controlling the floor while Meynard whisked up his wizardry in the kitchen, and thank you Meynard for finding us a table at short notice. It was crammed, the fire was blazing, the music was cool and jazzy, noise level rising with huge bursts of laughter from different tables. Some of our friends were at one of the long tables, but most people seemed to be from out of town. We sat cheek by jowel, our elbows on the patterned plastic tablecloth, drinking the BBBS merlot, rich and chocolatey and made by Dean on the other side of the Kasteelberg. The food comes in old enamel plates - where do they find them all ? - and is a delicious crossover, traditional farm food with a twist of modern combinations of flavours. What a special and amazing place.

In fact in South Africa this village is the closest that I have experienced to the ancient Italian villages. For one the village is built on a series of small hills at the base of a rather impressive mountain. For another we have these out of the way little shops and restaurants, that you might not see if you zoomed through in your SUV. You have to stop and explore, wander down a side street, and be prepared to look for these extraordinary little establishments. You have to be prepared to be surprised.

2 comments:

  1. Congratulations on the new blog Rhoda! I look forward to "living" in your village vicariously!

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  2. If Corsica can be considered half Italian as well as French... yes, this is exactly my experience of a village restaurant in Bonifacio this week. Bonifacio, being a sailing paradise, was filled with happy Italian and French families (not a single word of English anywhere) but in a simple tucked-away restaurant far from the madding crowd of the tourist 'gin palaces' was Chez Francis... simple tables out in the open under some mulberry trees, the waitress walking around barefeet, an open fire where the padrone was grilling meat and more meat (Corsicans are not unlike South Africans!!!)and everyone calling ciao or bonsoir and kissing and hugging... a feeling that I was amongst very real people in a very real village atmosphere. So lucky you, in Riebeeck Kasteel!!! I'm also looking forward to living your village vicariously!

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