OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

— @HaggardHawks

My love had been planning the road trip to the Camdeboo for a while, but I had no idea whether I would be able to join him because of Salieri, work and then, at the last moment, a COVID scare – but it all worked out in the end: Salieri’s condition was stable, I could travel and work (part-time) and my test came back negative. Off we went! Destination Camdeboo.

• 

• 

Being on the road in South Africa is a transcendent experience. The vast landscapes, the endless paths, the beauty of it all. Travelling in this country means being in a constant state of awe.

Our first stop was a friends’ farm. Great company, great wine and food and all around a landscape that is simultaneously unrelenting and generous. Our friends keep cattle and fowls and make the most wonderful cheese. Being on the farm with goats and hens everywhere made me constantly think of two of Karavan Press’s novels: Breaking Milk and An Island. And it was the first time ever I had a real opportunity to interact with hens and roosters and to get to know their rhythms and truly connect. Many of the birds on the farm are more like family members than farm animals. I will never forget finding Principessa between my blanket and the duvet, where she settled happily when I went to the bathroom. I was disappointed, though, that she did not gift me with an egg.

We headed to the Mount Camdeboo Private Reserve next and spent two blissful nights up in the mountains in a secluded pod – an architectural/design feat of note – before returning to the manor house in the valley for the last night of our stay.

Once again, the calm of the incredible landscape was soothing for the soul, and the game drives delivered the most fascinating viewings and adventures. On the last evening, on our way down the mountain, we encountered a rhino mom with her baby going up on the narrow path to the top to graze. They had right of way, so the ranger reversed for about two kilometers in the dark and we waited for the family to come up and disappear into the bush at the top. While waiting for these majestic beings to make their way, we heard the horror stories of poaching in the area before drastic security measures were introduced to protect the animals.

The Camdeboo is the setting of A Fractured Land, one of the first books we published at Karavan Press. Melissa’s descriptions of these landscapes are stunningly evocative and it was wonderful for me to see them with my own eyes and to imagine the story all over again.

You cannot be in this area and not visit Nieu-Bethesda: The Owl House, Dustcovers Bookshop and the fabulous Stirlings at the Ibis that offers a six-course menu, including the most divine garlic ice cream (only one of two puddings at the end of the meal), for R180 – yes, it’s true.

If this restaurant was in Cape Town, I would stop cooking.

If the Dustcovers Bookshop was in Cape Town, my book buying addiction would stand no chance whatsoever.

The first book we saw on display when entering was Breaking Milk, and the last one I spotted after paying was The Fifth Mrs Brink. I felt totally at home.

Outside the bookshop, we discovered that we had a flat tyre. A family visiting Nieu-Bethesda was passing by and the father and sons, seeing the despair on our faces, took charge of the situation and rescued us within twenty minutes. They were amazing!

The puncture and the need to have the spare repaired before the public holiday made us rush a bit through The Owl House, but I was not sorry. It was important for me to see the place, and it was nothing like I had imagined (way beyond what I could imagine), but there is something truly unsettling in the haunting house and its fantastical garden that did not make me feel comfortable. But I love the two owls I brought home from there.

Final stop was Graaff-Reinet. Even though it is a beautiful town with many fascinating places to visit, we were not entirely ready for the return to people, traffic and ordinary life, so we headed out to the Camdeboo National Park and The Valley of Desolation on Heritage Day. For the rest, it was reading, relaxing and another dinner with our friends at the wonderful Hello You.

And then it was time to go home …

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

— @HaggardHawks

“NOT DETECTED” the message from PathCare said. Just an ordinary cold. What a relief. I never thought I would be so happy to be simply sick.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

— @HaggardHawks

A sweaty night, a scratchy throat and the general feeling of suffering from a mild cold. I phoned my GP first thing in the morning, got a phone consultation, a script, a referral letter and a PathCare form for testing in the course of the next few hours. The pharmacy delivered my medicine and I got a test appointment just after receiving all the necessary documents in the afternoon. When you are symptomatic, you do not get out of your car to get tested, it seems. It was as uncomfortable and quick as always, but it was the first time I wasn’t sure what the outcome of the test would show. I spent most of the day in bed – I managed to do some editing work and admin, but the majority of the time was passed worrying and going through all the possible scenarios of ‘what if’. It’s either a cold or COVID-19. If it’s the former, the doctor said I can simply get better and go about my life. If it’s the latter, I have to isolate until the 23rd, independent of how quickly I recover. Thank goodness for contact-free Mr Delivery. I ordered some really nice food for dinner just to cheer myself up. I can taste and smell everything, which is bliss no matter what. Now, I just wait until the test results arrive. I think and hope that it is just a cold, but I need to make 100% sure, primarily because of the people I had been in touch with two days prior to the onset of symptoms. Sigh. Hope.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

— @HaggardHawks

I miss Rafa. (I was about to write this sentence when a tennis racket got destroyed on centre court at the men’s US Open final; unsurprisingly, it wasn’t Medvedev’s.) Rafa posted the above photo yesterday. I wish him a speedy recovery.

Tonight, there is only one tennis player I am cheering for. At this stage, it looks like he has the chance to write his own tennis history by winning his maiden Grand Slam title. Any other outcome would be deeply disappointing to me.

A quiet Sunday. Morning rain, reading, rugby, some housework, Skype with my family, dinner with my love. I washed my impossibly long hair. I think a visit to the hairdresser can no longer be avoided.

Tomorrow, we move to adjusted level two. I am hoping for more live literary events, theatre and music. I listened to the President’s announcement while driving home. We have enough vaccines to keep everyone as safe as possible. Theoretically, there is no need to face the fourth wave with any apprehension, but I doubt that all those people who believe the vaccine will magnetise them, will suddenly see the light and join the fight against COVID-19 by getting their jabs.

I’ve been typing between points. Medvedev is two sets up. Only one more to go …

Good night.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

— @HaggardHawks

Twenty years later and 9/11 is still a near-blank in my memory. Unlike most people, all I recall about that day is a turquoise sea, a balmy breeze and the laughter of friends. We were sailing in Croatia and it was bliss. Two days after the attacks, we arrived at a marina and, still oblivious to everything else going on in the world, in the bathroom, I overheard two German women discussing the possibility of war. Confused, I returned to our boat and told the skipper what I had heard. We went to the boat next to us and inquired of the crew what they knew …

I found a phone card and a public phone and called home, asking whether it would be wise to continue with our trip or return immediately. My family said to sail on, but to keep in touch.

I saw the first 9/11 images on a small satellite TV on another boat in the marina. We sailed on, haunted, and the rest of the trip was a daze. It felt like the world might be ending, and we had the last opportunity to enjoy its wonders. And the world did end. Everything was different when I finally returned home at the end of that week.

Yesterday, CapeTalk’s Sara-Jayne Makwala King spoke to 9/11 survivor Joe Dittmar, who was working on the 105th floor in South Tower when the first plane hit the North Tower. It was an incredibly moving interview and I had tears in my eyes throughout. In the end, still in 2001, I did see the visual footage of what had happened that day and afterwards watched the documentaries and read many accounts, but the events of 9/11 are not locked into my memory the same way they are for people around the world who not only witnessed everything as it was unfolding, but were directly connected to the tragedy or lived through it. Joe’s memories and his way of dealing with the horrors of that day made me think of our present. The pandemic is an ongoing tragedy in which our lives are threatened every day and perhaps one way of coping with the trauma of it would be to have support groups in which survivors can articulate and share stories, like the survivors Joe is connected to still do even twenty years after 9/11.

Yesterday alone, I heard from two friends how tough their reality is right now, what challenges they are facing and what dreams they have had to give up because of the pandemic. My heart breaks a little every day. And every day I wonder how we somehow still get up in the morning and how so many of us can still give to others – in tiny and huge gestures. The resilience that is keeping us relatively functional, despite everything, is astounding. And the onslaught has been relentless for over one a half years. For me, what – or rather who – makes it all possible are the people I share my life with: my family – including The Cats – and friends. Throughout it all, I have never felt abandoned; I have pulled through because of them.

I spoke to another dear friend on Skype yesterday – she recently lost both her parents, and even though it wasn’t because of COVID-19, her grief and the cruel logistics of wrapping up two estates have been compounded by the pandemic. Her fear of losing another loved one is so much greater. And yet, she remains kind and giving and every time I speak to her, I feel grateful to have a friend like her.

I spent most of the day yesterday reading and editing, and in the evening my love treated me to the Spring menu at La Colombe, so the day ended with a divine meal. The new creations that are part of the menu are a true celebration of a new season and allow you to immerse yourself in a feast that delights all the senses.

When so many restaurants have had to close their doors because of the pandemic, it is heartening to see that a few of our favourites are not only surviving, but pushing their creative energies to new levels and flourishing.

I arrived back home just in time for the curfew and meant to write Oysterhood and watch the women’s US Open final, but I fell asleep in the middle of both. I am catching up this morning. The rain is falling, the coffee is good, and The Cats are sleeping deeply on my bed. Later today, I will be skyping with my Family and spending the afternoon and evening with my love. I would be nowhere without my human and feline loved ones.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

— @HaggardHawks

My love and I walked on the Rondebosch Common this morning. The flowers were huddling in the wind, but they are still out there – very beautiful. Apart from the walk, the day was chaos. Everything and nothing got done. Most of it was good, but I felt frazzled by the late afternoon and there was no time to go shopping or cook dinner, so: HARU to the rescue!

• 

• 

After dinner, my love and I watched our series and had a few really good laughs.

Driving back home this evening, I listened to people discuss their vaccine hesitancy on the radio with a host who tried to stay non-judgmental. And I remembered the news of Denmark opening up today – fully. No more lockdown, any restrictions, no state of disaster. More than 80% of their population above twelve are vaccinated and now the entire country is returning to personal and professional business as usual. We could also have this – it is attainable – and yet, so many believe that horse dewormers might be a better solution …

I wonder whether they need any more writers or publishers in Denmark …?

I am in bed, surrounded by cats, and watching the Auger-Aliassime / Medvedev SF at the US Open with one eye while typing. Good match. And seeing Uncle Toni in the audience brings back many good memories. May he bring the young Canadian lots of luck in the future.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

— @HaggardHawks

We had a very slow beginning to our day today. It was wonderful to go to sleep last night and wake up only when it was morning again. No three a.m. insomnia blues.

The day was editing, cover design, sunbathing, quick visit at The Hoghouse, a manuscript discussion with a writer whom I would love to publish at Karavan Press and then to crown it all: a live book event!

On Being a Writer in Kalk Bay

It was so heartwarming to chat to other writers and to be surrounded by readers in a space outside a screen. Now that all of us have had the opportunity to get vaccinated and so many of us have had our second jab (all I spoke to at the event), meeting people is so much easier, especially when it is on a beautiful, balmy spring day outside in a garden with a view. We must do this more often! (We might not be able to avoid the fourth wave, but we are so much more prepared now.)

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

— @HaggardHawks

Negative reader’s reports and rejection letters are never easy to write, and I started the working day today by completing and sending one.

Seeing my counsellor this morning was not easy either – stuff does come up – but she always makes me feel better about the world. An amazing human being, brilliant at her job. Facing some of my sad core beliefs is tough, but the process also involves a sense of liberation. The truth will set you free, etc.

“The future tends to occur.” A wonderful piece of dialogue from the series my love and I are watching. I spent the afternoon working at his house and waiting for a delivery while he was at the office. We then had dinner and watched another witty episode.

Great literary news: another Karavan Press title made the longlist of an award – Melissa A. Volker’s A Fractured Land – one of the first two books we ever published. It is so heartening to see that other readers are delighting in the books we bring into the world. Melissa is working on her third novel, but before we get there, her fans have a lovely summer surprise coming their way very soon. Watch this space!

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

— @HaggardHawks

Yesterday was a busy and partly frustrating day, but many good things also got done. The problem was, apart from the heavy workload, that I felt worse a week after the intruder invasion than just afterwards. And it also reflected in last night’s lack of decent sleep and today’s impossible headache, but in the end I took some meds and made a fire and allowed most of the tension to burn away in the warmth of the flames.

Today is the official publication day for DISRUPTION: NEW SHORT FICTION FROM AFRICA. A true baby of the pandemic, it came to life under nearly impossible circumstances. But we made it happen and it looks so good. First review is in: Isele Magazine.

I spoke briefly with Mom tonight: my father cut off a significant part of one of his fingers earlier today. The doctors managed to reattach it and, if all goes well, he will be able to keep it, but what a freaky thing to happen to him after decades of working with potentially lethal tools in his bicycle workshop and never hurting himself that badly before.

There are serious rumours of an upcoming family meeting and level two! We have survived the third wave, and now many of us can also face the fourth without fearing for our lives – thanks to the vaccines!

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD