Unfortunately I cannot name the institution, as we are worried about the paparazzi!
Salagatle!
LIU - Look It Up!
Friday, June 22, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
SADF - IV
South West Africa was a different world. The locals were both friend and enemy. They would co-operate with us during the day, and then support the enemy at night. Living in their primitive kraals, they were torn between supporting their families, and at the same time trying to appease what was in fact two aggressors.
We would be kind to those who assisted us, but absolutely cruel to those who didn't. There was no place to hide once you had crossed the thin line, and many times families would have to move south to escape the wrath of the "terrorists" or north, to hide from the SADF. For many of them, this was a war they didn't understand or care for. They were stock farmers, and fishermen, and didn't want for, or need much. For some even the prospect of independence from the white oppressors was a non event.
The women were, as far as I can remember, as ugly as sin! Not their fault I suppose, but the hard life, and harsh weather didn't do them much good! They made a mean "beer" of sorts, and many a thirst was quenched drinking the stuff, which we received in exchange for a small packet of military issue biscuits, or a tin of mixed vegetables! What was always a amazing was that they managed, out there in the bush, to keep it cool. I think I remember they used to dig a hole in the ground, probably near the base of a tree, and keep it wet. Anyhow,it worked for them, and the beer.
We also did a lot of medical assistance work among the locals, were we would take the medics out to the various hut settlements, and for the day the locals would come with various ailments, and receive free treatment from the SADF. Typically, we would take advantage of some of the younger men, because any of them would at some stage or other be aligned to SWAPO. Mostly when they came for headache tables, we would give then an "S"bit!! These were the paraffin based tablets used to cook our food with!! Apparently the side effect was a vicious workout of the stomach! Well, at least it took their minds off their headaches!! No harm done though!!
Often the fresh food rations wouldn't come through, and after a few weeks of eating prepacked ration packs, the need for fresh meat was overwhelming. That's when we would go out and trade some goods for a goat or two! Can be very tasty to a very hungry soldier. I even had the opportunity to eat snake meat, which had been prepared by one of the black trackers.
Photographs / cameras were a no-no. However, most of us seemed to manage to take a camera with us, and spools of film. Getting the film out was another problem, as whenever you returned to South Africa, all your kit and stuff was thoroughly searched for films, and any other banned stuff. One idiot was caught with a "cheese mine" in the bottom of his hold all!!! I'm sure he's still behind bars!
Ingenious ways were found to smuggle through the films. One was in tooth paste tubes. You had to open out the bottom, insert the film which was safely sealed in plastic, or even a condom, and then the tooth[paste put back, and the tube re closed. But, at all times you had to work carefully to ensure that the tube looked original. Split bars of soap, hollowed out, filed, and rejoined. Man, the guys pulled every trick in the book.
Even our outgoing post was inspected / read and censored. Our post we refused to allow the local guys to read and censor, electing rather to have this done by our own officer based in Ondangwa. Then we got clever. We would seal the envelopes, I would sign the back as Lt. Viljoen, a buddy in the ops tent would stamp it with the Infantry stamp, and we would send them off to Ondangwa, where the "postmaster" would assume they had been precensored, and forward them with the rest. So our local authority thought we were having our post censored in Ondangwa, and our officers in Ondangwa thought we were having it done by some Lt. Viljoen in Eenhana..... Soooo Sweeeet!
I have quite a few photos from my "visit" North, but not sure where they are now since we moved house, some of my favourites are the sunsets, always spectacular. One of my best is one taken of me. I was lying in the middle of a sand road, on my stomach, clearing and lifting my first landmine!! The road typically is white sand, but the area around me is a darker colour, from my sweat. Took me at least 3 hours, and once you are down you don't move till finished. Water bottles are slid across the ground to you as required. Cigarettes, and even food if you want, but no moving till you are done.
The problem was that 2/5 times the damn mines were booby trapped. The most logical thing to do was find the handle (if the mine had one) hook on a pull rope which was about 50/70/100 meters long, tie it to the back of the vehicle and drag it out. That way if it was booby trapped it would go off without injury to anyone. But your first mine... well, everyone made a point of lifting it. There is such a feeling of achievement then. Makes all the training and sweat and tears that came before worthwhile!!
One mine we lifted, which I assisted in clearing had a double booby trap (hence my assistance was required). It took the two of us 5 hours to clear, and we recovered approximately 30 kg's of Russian explosives! Much drinking took place that night.
Road sweeping was our main priority. Every time a convoy was moving, there would be Sappers walking in front to sweep the road for landmines. The infantry would give us cover from the sides of the road, walking deep in the bush. I had, on some occasions, met guys I knew from back home, and then much story swapping and chatting would take place. It was always exciting to see them, as then you knew that at least they were still alive!
Our guys (my lot) also managed to set the record at the time for the fastest sweep. I'm talking in excess of 10 km/hour! A mean feat if you consider the conditions, heat, and risk.
The amazing part was how, over time, we learned to recognise the "signs". Typically, if mines had been laid on a stretch of road, the planters would, along the road, leave some sign to warn the locals of the danger. A coke can hanging on a branch, 3 stones piled up in a specific manner, the top bar of an impromptu soccer field up, or down. After 12 / 13 months we were so in tune with this system, that ofter when we went out we would drive the route, and stop when we spotted one of the "signs" start to sweep and the n find the mine! Luckily we never got it wrong, and some guys even worked out the distance to the mine from the marker!
One thing we stopped doing quickly was assume that all the locals knew of the signs. Many times while we were sweeping the road, a local LDV (mostly old Ford F100 / 250) would come flying past us fully laden on the back with up to 16 passengers. Then we would simply all get onto our vehicles, and follow in their tracks!
On one such occasion, we were following the LDV at about 60 km/h, we were not mote than 1200 meters behind, and it hit a landmine. There was this almighty blast, followed by a flash of fire, the LDV took off like a cumbersome Concorde, and then smoke and dust! We immediately stopped, disembarked, and started to sweep towards the incident site. On arrival the sight was frightening. There was a 6 meter wide crater in the road, with a secondary crater, (the booby trap) overlapping the first of about 4 meters diameter. Both were about 1.5 meters deep. The LDV was lying on its roof in the veld maybe 10 meters away. There were bodies everywhere. The front right wheel had detonated the mine, and it had blown away most of the front of the vehicle, as well as most of the cab. Of the driver there remained nothing that we could find / identify.
Some of the other passengers were torn apart, but we could match the pieces, this arm here, this leg with this body with this head.... Some were whole. All were dead! While waiting for the recovery vehicles, one to move the LDV, and one to remove the remains, we sat down next to the road in the shade of a tree and had lunch. Around us lay scattered pieces of bodies. No matter, we were beyond caring.
Salagatle!
We would be kind to those who assisted us, but absolutely cruel to those who didn't. There was no place to hide once you had crossed the thin line, and many times families would have to move south to escape the wrath of the "terrorists" or north, to hide from the SADF. For many of them, this was a war they didn't understand or care for. They were stock farmers, and fishermen, and didn't want for, or need much. For some even the prospect of independence from the white oppressors was a non event.
The women were, as far as I can remember, as ugly as sin! Not their fault I suppose, but the hard life, and harsh weather didn't do them much good! They made a mean "beer" of sorts, and many a thirst was quenched drinking the stuff, which we received in exchange for a small packet of military issue biscuits, or a tin of mixed vegetables! What was always a amazing was that they managed, out there in the bush, to keep it cool. I think I remember they used to dig a hole in the ground, probably near the base of a tree, and keep it wet. Anyhow,it worked for them, and the beer.
We also did a lot of medical assistance work among the locals, were we would take the medics out to the various hut settlements, and for the day the locals would come with various ailments, and receive free treatment from the SADF. Typically, we would take advantage of some of the younger men, because any of them would at some stage or other be aligned to SWAPO. Mostly when they came for headache tables, we would give then an "S"bit!! These were the paraffin based tablets used to cook our food with!! Apparently the side effect was a vicious workout of the stomach! Well, at least it took their minds off their headaches!! No harm done though!!
Often the fresh food rations wouldn't come through, and after a few weeks of eating prepacked ration packs, the need for fresh meat was overwhelming. That's when we would go out and trade some goods for a goat or two! Can be very tasty to a very hungry soldier. I even had the opportunity to eat snake meat, which had been prepared by one of the black trackers.
Photographs / cameras were a no-no. However, most of us seemed to manage to take a camera with us, and spools of film. Getting the film out was another problem, as whenever you returned to South Africa, all your kit and stuff was thoroughly searched for films, and any other banned stuff. One idiot was caught with a "cheese mine" in the bottom of his hold all!!! I'm sure he's still behind bars!
Ingenious ways were found to smuggle through the films. One was in tooth paste tubes. You had to open out the bottom, insert the film which was safely sealed in plastic, or even a condom, and then the tooth[paste put back, and the tube re closed. But, at all times you had to work carefully to ensure that the tube looked original. Split bars of soap, hollowed out, filed, and rejoined. Man, the guys pulled every trick in the book.
Even our outgoing post was inspected / read and censored. Our post we refused to allow the local guys to read and censor, electing rather to have this done by our own officer based in Ondangwa. Then we got clever. We would seal the envelopes, I would sign the back as Lt. Viljoen, a buddy in the ops tent would stamp it with the Infantry stamp, and we would send them off to Ondangwa, where the "postmaster" would assume they had been precensored, and forward them with the rest. So our local authority thought we were having our post censored in Ondangwa, and our officers in Ondangwa thought we were having it done by some Lt. Viljoen in Eenhana..... Soooo Sweeeet!
I have quite a few photos from my "visit" North, but not sure where they are now since we moved house, some of my favourites are the sunsets, always spectacular. One of my best is one taken of me. I was lying in the middle of a sand road, on my stomach, clearing and lifting my first landmine!! The road typically is white sand, but the area around me is a darker colour, from my sweat. Took me at least 3 hours, and once you are down you don't move till finished. Water bottles are slid across the ground to you as required. Cigarettes, and even food if you want, but no moving till you are done.
The problem was that 2/5 times the damn mines were booby trapped. The most logical thing to do was find the handle (if the mine had one) hook on a pull rope which was about 50/70/100 meters long, tie it to the back of the vehicle and drag it out. That way if it was booby trapped it would go off without injury to anyone. But your first mine... well, everyone made a point of lifting it. There is such a feeling of achievement then. Makes all the training and sweat and tears that came before worthwhile!!
One mine we lifted, which I assisted in clearing had a double booby trap (hence my assistance was required). It took the two of us 5 hours to clear, and we recovered approximately 30 kg's of Russian explosives! Much drinking took place that night.
Road sweeping was our main priority. Every time a convoy was moving, there would be Sappers walking in front to sweep the road for landmines. The infantry would give us cover from the sides of the road, walking deep in the bush. I had, on some occasions, met guys I knew from back home, and then much story swapping and chatting would take place. It was always exciting to see them, as then you knew that at least they were still alive!
Our guys (my lot) also managed to set the record at the time for the fastest sweep. I'm talking in excess of 10 km/hour! A mean feat if you consider the conditions, heat, and risk.
The amazing part was how, over time, we learned to recognise the "signs". Typically, if mines had been laid on a stretch of road, the planters would, along the road, leave some sign to warn the locals of the danger. A coke can hanging on a branch, 3 stones piled up in a specific manner, the top bar of an impromptu soccer field up, or down. After 12 / 13 months we were so in tune with this system, that ofter when we went out we would drive the route, and stop when we spotted one of the "signs" start to sweep and the n find the mine! Luckily we never got it wrong, and some guys even worked out the distance to the mine from the marker!
One thing we stopped doing quickly was assume that all the locals knew of the signs. Many times while we were sweeping the road, a local LDV (mostly old Ford F100 / 250) would come flying past us fully laden on the back with up to 16 passengers. Then we would simply all get onto our vehicles, and follow in their tracks!
On one such occasion, we were following the LDV at about 60 km/h, we were not mote than 1200 meters behind, and it hit a landmine. There was this almighty blast, followed by a flash of fire, the LDV took off like a cumbersome Concorde, and then smoke and dust! We immediately stopped, disembarked, and started to sweep towards the incident site. On arrival the sight was frightening. There was a 6 meter wide crater in the road, with a secondary crater, (the booby trap) overlapping the first of about 4 meters diameter. Both were about 1.5 meters deep. The LDV was lying on its roof in the veld maybe 10 meters away. There were bodies everywhere. The front right wheel had detonated the mine, and it had blown away most of the front of the vehicle, as well as most of the cab. Of the driver there remained nothing that we could find / identify.
Some of the other passengers were torn apart, but we could match the pieces, this arm here, this leg with this body with this head.... Some were whole. All were dead! While waiting for the recovery vehicles, one to move the LDV, and one to remove the remains, we sat down next to the road in the shade of a tree and had lunch. Around us lay scattered pieces of bodies. No matter, we were beyond caring.
Salagatle!
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
SADF Part III
The trip to Grootfontein was, well, scary? We flew in what was affectionately referred to as a Flossie, and these planes were very old, well worn favourites. Sitting inside, along the side walls on long benches, with all our kit loaded in back, and held down with netting, you could see the plates moving around the rivets with which the thing had been built 100 years ago!
Overnight in Grootfontein was eerie. We knew we were on the "border", but didn't really have an idea where or how far away the "action" was.We were issued with live ammunition, 6 mags a piece (80 bullets). We were trained in the use of an R1 rifle. To this day I still maintain it is the best weapon ever made for military purposes.
Anyway, the next morning we were loaded onto the back of long trucks and driven north to the zone. Some guys were dropped off in Ondangwa, some in Ojivarongo. Others in other obscure places. Me and my section, 10 of us in all, were taken to Eenhana. We didn't know it then, but this was to be our home for the next 18 months!!!
On the way up, we spotted a PB (plaaslike bevolking - local citizen) walking along the road with a rifle slung over his shoulder. He came within 10 seconds of being blown away by at least 10 over eager Sappers! Luckily the corporal managed to warn us that he was on our side! Seems that a lot of the 'Locals' had sided with the SADF as a means to protect their families and livestock. Many of these guys had been issued with old generation R1's, (FN's), called G3's!! (His lucky day it was!)
Eenhana was, well, in the middle of no where, dusty, dry, hot, surrounded by 3 meter high sand banks, a tent camp. It held 150 Infantry, 30 Horseback soldiers, and 10 Sappers.
We soon set ourselves up in out 2 tents, and established a contact with our immediate neighbours. We were introduced to the Infantry Sargent Major, who was in charge of the whole camp, but we would report in to our officers based in Ondangwa.
There were 4 guard posts, lookout towers about 12 - 15 meters high, placed at the four corners of the camp. There were 4 mortar pits inside the camp, kind of in the middle of each wall, buy 10 - 15 meters back from the wall. There was a central radio / comms. room, adjoining the ops room. A field kitchen, some form of first aid tent, a helipad.... usual bush camp stuff.
We were in camp for exactly 3 hours when I heard the first shot fired! I ran outside to see what the fuck was going on, thinking if I sprinted now I could probably get the pick of the horses, and could be out of here at a fast gallop before anyone even knew I was missing!!!! A soldier, infantry, came running past me in the general direction of the medics tent. His chest, hands and arms were dripping blood! "Oh great" I thought, dumb fuck has shot himself.
In fact, it turned out to be a bit more serious than that. No, it wasn't an enemy attack. This guy who came running past had just come off guard duty, had walked into his tent and found his buddy reading a western. He had pointed his R1 at him, said "Hands up" and pulled the trigger. He had forgotten to unload before coming down the guard tower. The 7.62mm high velocity bullet hit him in the middle of the face, fired from about 3 meters away. His head exploded like a watermelon.
It was fucking frightening. I had run to the tent to see if anyone else, other than the guy who ran past me who I thought had hurt himself, had been hurt, and I saw this mess splattered all over the back of the tent.
There was nothing to do other than turn away and throw up copious amounts of whatever was in my gut at that point in time.I cannot believe that that young man would ever be the same again. I remember he was sent back to South Africa, and I think I remember something around him having lost his head. I wouldn't be surprised.
My introduction to that war was over. I was knee deep in the stuff, and nothing would phase me going forward, and I mean nothing.
Salagtle!
Overnight in Grootfontein was eerie. We knew we were on the "border", but didn't really have an idea where or how far away the "action" was.We were issued with live ammunition, 6 mags a piece (80 bullets). We were trained in the use of an R1 rifle. To this day I still maintain it is the best weapon ever made for military purposes.
Anyway, the next morning we were loaded onto the back of long trucks and driven north to the zone. Some guys were dropped off in Ondangwa, some in Ojivarongo. Others in other obscure places. Me and my section, 10 of us in all, were taken to Eenhana. We didn't know it then, but this was to be our home for the next 18 months!!!
On the way up, we spotted a PB (plaaslike bevolking - local citizen) walking along the road with a rifle slung over his shoulder. He came within 10 seconds of being blown away by at least 10 over eager Sappers! Luckily the corporal managed to warn us that he was on our side! Seems that a lot of the 'Locals' had sided with the SADF as a means to protect their families and livestock. Many of these guys had been issued with old generation R1's, (FN's), called G3's!! (His lucky day it was!)
Eenhana was, well, in the middle of no where, dusty, dry, hot, surrounded by 3 meter high sand banks, a tent camp. It held 150 Infantry, 30 Horseback soldiers, and 10 Sappers.
We soon set ourselves up in out 2 tents, and established a contact with our immediate neighbours. We were introduced to the Infantry Sargent Major, who was in charge of the whole camp, but we would report in to our officers based in Ondangwa.
There were 4 guard posts, lookout towers about 12 - 15 meters high, placed at the four corners of the camp. There were 4 mortar pits inside the camp, kind of in the middle of each wall, buy 10 - 15 meters back from the wall. There was a central radio / comms. room, adjoining the ops room. A field kitchen, some form of first aid tent, a helipad.... usual bush camp stuff.
We were in camp for exactly 3 hours when I heard the first shot fired! I ran outside to see what the fuck was going on, thinking if I sprinted now I could probably get the pick of the horses, and could be out of here at a fast gallop before anyone even knew I was missing!!!! A soldier, infantry, came running past me in the general direction of the medics tent. His chest, hands and arms were dripping blood! "Oh great" I thought, dumb fuck has shot himself.
In fact, it turned out to be a bit more serious than that. No, it wasn't an enemy attack. This guy who came running past had just come off guard duty, had walked into his tent and found his buddy reading a western. He had pointed his R1 at him, said "Hands up" and pulled the trigger. He had forgotten to unload before coming down the guard tower. The 7.62mm high velocity bullet hit him in the middle of the face, fired from about 3 meters away. His head exploded like a watermelon.
It was fucking frightening. I had run to the tent to see if anyone else, other than the guy who ran past me who I thought had hurt himself, had been hurt, and I saw this mess splattered all over the back of the tent.
There was nothing to do other than turn away and throw up copious amounts of whatever was in my gut at that point in time.I cannot believe that that young man would ever be the same again. I remember he was sent back to South Africa, and I think I remember something around him having lost his head. I wouldn't be surprised.
My introduction to that war was over. I was knee deep in the stuff, and nothing would phase me going forward, and I mean nothing.
Salagtle!
Dis my mense hierdie
Dis my mense hierdie,
Die boer, sy vrou en familie,
Daai blanke polisieman,
Almal van hulle wat Afrikaans praat.
Dis my mense hierdie
Die Oom en Tannie op die straat hoek,
Die dominiee by die kerk,
Hulle is mos Afrikaaners
Dis my mense hierdie,
Ons het saam geveg
Gehuil, gelag,
Ons is Afrikaaners
Dis my mense hierdie,
en die anders kleuriges,
hulle wat Afrikaans praat,
Hulle is ONS mense.
English Translation for those millions of international readers:-
These are my people
The farmer, his wife and family
That white (European) policeman
All of them that speak Afrikaans
These are my people
The Uncle and Aunty on the street corner
The minister at the church
They are Afrikaaners
There are my people
We fought together
Cried, laughed
We are Afrikaaners
These are my people
And those of colour
They who speak Afrikaans,
They are OUR people.
Salagatle!
Die boer, sy vrou en familie,
Daai blanke polisieman,
Almal van hulle wat Afrikaans praat.
Dis my mense hierdie
Die Oom en Tannie op die straat hoek,
Die dominiee by die kerk,
Hulle is mos Afrikaaners
Dis my mense hierdie,
Ons het saam geveg
Gehuil, gelag,
Ons is Afrikaaners
Dis my mense hierdie,
en die anders kleuriges,
hulle wat Afrikaans praat,
Hulle is ONS mense.
English Translation for those millions of international readers:-
These are my people
The farmer, his wife and family
That white (European) policeman
All of them that speak Afrikaans
These are my people
The Uncle and Aunty on the street corner
The minister at the church
They are Afrikaaners
There are my people
We fought together
Cried, laughed
We are Afrikaaners
These are my people
And those of colour
They who speak Afrikaans,
They are OUR people.
Salagatle!
For some unknown reason
this weekend I composed an Afrikaans poem! Must be that bad influence of the Free State and memories of the army.
However, I don't think I'll post it here.
Will look for another site where it might receive less onerous / vicious comment....
Salagtle!
However, I don't think I'll post it here.
Will look for another site where it might receive less onerous / vicious comment....
Salagtle!
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Clarens - Free State
Our mission:- Princess was asked by a friend of ours to organise his whole wedding! Venue (he selected Clarens for the area), priest, decorations, invites, accommodation, everything. And as he's reasonable well off, it's almost a blank cheque arrangement. What he did say was he's not willing to accept anything but the best (within reason). 20 people, inclusive of the bride and groom.
Having left Mom at the hospital, and then popped in at the Nun's house, we eventually got on the road to Clarens at about 8.35 am. We travelled via Vanderbyjlpark, Sasolburg, Heilbron, Petrus Steyn, Reitz, some other obscure little towns, Bethlehem and finally Clarens. Took us just a little over two and a half hours! Damn but it's real farming country, flat, windswept, desolate. The Free State!
What was apparent in most of these little farming towns is that their reason for their existence, originally to support the big maize / wheat / cattle farmers is no longer the raison de existance! They are really struggling locations. What was also apparent was the explosion in size of every single location (previously black township) comprising of large ares of shack dwellers and large 'Low Cost" housing developments. I cannot imagine where these people are coming from (yes I do understand procreation), and cannot see where they could be finding any form of employment.
Basically they are a drain on the municipal and provincial structures, without actually contributing to the local economy. I know it's not their fault, and I'm not proportioning blame here, only pointing out the obvious, and one reason why the towns seem to be struggling economically. What we did notice was that in each of these little town there were at least 3 if not 4 funeral parlour / service outlets. Now, no matter how the government might deny the problem, but if there is one thing that's driving this business boom, it's AIDS. Talking to some people over the weekend confirmed that the local population is highly affected / infected, and that the death rate is astronomical. However, due to the "ban" on making declarations of cause of death "HIV-AIDS" on death certificates, all of the deaths would be accounted for against some or other disease which is probably caught as a result of the infection.
Bethlehem was unrecognisable. It's grown to 3 maybe even 4 times the size it was when I was last there 28 years ago. I didn't see one thing I recognised, although I didn't drive around looking. We drove in one end, drove through looking for road signs to Clarens, and as soon as we found the turn off, we took it, drove out of town and went on our way. 10km Outside of Clarens we arrived at the place we had booked to stay over at.
Graceland (kinda corny I know, but hey, that's what it's called!) We had a look around, and I took a whole bunch of photo's. it's one of the options for the wedding, so we want to get all the pics we can to show the prospective marriage couple. The chapel is ok, function hall way too big, cold, low ceiling, not well finished. The restaurant area is nice, as is the pub. The private on suite rooms are ok, and there is a honeymoon suite. There are 10 rooms, just as required. There are also chalets on the property. They even have some lions on the property!Personally, I'm not too impressed. We book into our chalet, unpack the little we have, and leave for Clarens and a look at two other venues we have selected off the internet.
We take a walk around the arty little town. there is a lot of development going on, including a residential golf course. Lot's of little art shops, antique stores, some pubs and restaurants. Seems like a few years ago this place was "discovered" by some artistic types, and since then there has been a bit of an exodus into the area.
Anyway, we soon set off for the next venue. It's called Lynnewood. This place is nice. Remember, I've only got Graceland to compare to for now. Apparently they took over the farm a few months ago, and have only been doing weddings and conferences a la Bed and Breakfast for a few weeks.The chapel is not yet completed, but it is going to look nice once it's done. But it's also too big for our purpose. However, the lounge / dining / tv areas are very nice, and with some shuffling could easily accommodate the 20 guests. We can also do the ceremony in this part of the complex. They have a honeymoon suite. It's quite nice, and has a fireplace. There are 3 other on suite rooms, all very nicely finished, with fireplaces. But this leaves us a few rooms short. They have an arrangement with the farmer across the road, who also has a couple of chalets, that if they are short of rooms, they refer their guests to him.
So, a quick visit there, and we have the info we need. Rooms could not be viewed as there were guests staying in them, but the place looks nice, and there are enough rooms for what we need.
Next stop is a place called Oranje. It has four star accreditation from the South African tourist board. An initial look around leaves one with a good impression. We meet with the hostess, who takes us on an initial tour. We sit down inside and she goes through all our options, right down to the flowers, candles, throws...
So organised it's obvious she does this for a living. She gave us copies of the menu options, pricing, made a list of all the things we wanted a quote on, down to arranging the priest. She gave me a copy of her wine list, and if there was a wine we wanted which was not on the list, she would source it for us. The chapel is way too big, but the ceremony can be held on the front lawns, which although brown right now as it's winter, still looked "attractive". Alternatively it can be held on the front porch (it can seat 60 guests!), or, if the weather is really bad, Inside, in the area we will be using for the reception.The rooms, all en suite are great, although a bit cold, but all have good heating systems. Overall a very impressive venue, and the one I would select. Only problem is that the date selected by the couple is taken! and so we tentatively booked the weekend before.
I hope that they will make the change required, as it is the best venues by far. Only problem could be that the grooms partner who is coming out from the UK has made his travel arrangements already, and getting that changed might be a problem.
We drove back to Clarens town, and stopped in at a pub/restaurant. We had to eat out as the Graceland chef was off for this weekend, so they were not serving meals. But, it was ok as it turned out they had a big screen TV so we could watch the rugby - SA v Oz - and we won! And the food was damn good.
After that we drove towards Graceland, stopping only for a few minutes to look at the site where the water which is piped from the Lesotho Highland water project for miles under through the mountain, eventually spills into the Ash river.
It's quite a site, more so because all that cold, crisp water started out a long way away as snow! Then on to Graceland, where we went to the chalet. Damn this place is cold. We left the oil heater and wall panel heaters on before we left earlier, and it's only just taken the chill off the air. Switched on the electric blankets, and the family watched TV till about 10pm., whilst I wrote this, and the summary of Mom's condition, and some of part two of my SADF story. (That might turn into a book).
So, next morning we book out of there, drive to Bethlehem and stop there for some breakfast at the Wimpy. Refueled the bus, and asked a couple of people about the military base in the middle of town. Two people didn't know it had ever existed, and one gave me the impression it had closed down, and relocated to the camp we had built in '77!!
So, no more camp, but I will go and have a look on Google Earth to confirm. Then we drove back home, back to Mom who was still in hospital, and to my brother, and to start putting together the options for the couple to be.
Salagatle!
Having left Mom at the hospital, and then popped in at the Nun's house, we eventually got on the road to Clarens at about 8.35 am. We travelled via Vanderbyjlpark, Sasolburg, Heilbron, Petrus Steyn, Reitz, some other obscure little towns, Bethlehem and finally Clarens. Took us just a little over two and a half hours! Damn but it's real farming country, flat, windswept, desolate. The Free State!
What was apparent in most of these little farming towns is that their reason for their existence, originally to support the big maize / wheat / cattle farmers is no longer the raison de existance! They are really struggling locations. What was also apparent was the explosion in size of every single location (previously black township) comprising of large ares of shack dwellers and large 'Low Cost" housing developments. I cannot imagine where these people are coming from (yes I do understand procreation), and cannot see where they could be finding any form of employment.
Basically they are a drain on the municipal and provincial structures, without actually contributing to the local economy. I know it's not their fault, and I'm not proportioning blame here, only pointing out the obvious, and one reason why the towns seem to be struggling economically. What we did notice was that in each of these little town there were at least 3 if not 4 funeral parlour / service outlets. Now, no matter how the government might deny the problem, but if there is one thing that's driving this business boom, it's AIDS. Talking to some people over the weekend confirmed that the local population is highly affected / infected, and that the death rate is astronomical. However, due to the "ban" on making declarations of cause of death "HIV-AIDS" on death certificates, all of the deaths would be accounted for against some or other disease which is probably caught as a result of the infection.
Bethlehem was unrecognisable. It's grown to 3 maybe even 4 times the size it was when I was last there 28 years ago. I didn't see one thing I recognised, although I didn't drive around looking. We drove in one end, drove through looking for road signs to Clarens, and as soon as we found the turn off, we took it, drove out of town and went on our way. 10km Outside of Clarens we arrived at the place we had booked to stay over at.
Graceland (kinda corny I know, but hey, that's what it's called!) We had a look around, and I took a whole bunch of photo's. it's one of the options for the wedding, so we want to get all the pics we can to show the prospective marriage couple. The chapel is ok, function hall way too big, cold, low ceiling, not well finished. The restaurant area is nice, as is the pub. The private on suite rooms are ok, and there is a honeymoon suite. There are 10 rooms, just as required. There are also chalets on the property. They even have some lions on the property!Personally, I'm not too impressed. We book into our chalet, unpack the little we have, and leave for Clarens and a look at two other venues we have selected off the internet.
We take a walk around the arty little town. there is a lot of development going on, including a residential golf course. Lot's of little art shops, antique stores, some pubs and restaurants. Seems like a few years ago this place was "discovered" by some artistic types, and since then there has been a bit of an exodus into the area.
Anyway, we soon set off for the next venue. It's called Lynnewood. This place is nice. Remember, I've only got Graceland to compare to for now. Apparently they took over the farm a few months ago, and have only been doing weddings and conferences a la Bed and Breakfast for a few weeks.The chapel is not yet completed, but it is going to look nice once it's done. But it's also too big for our purpose. However, the lounge / dining / tv areas are very nice, and with some shuffling could easily accommodate the 20 guests. We can also do the ceremony in this part of the complex. They have a honeymoon suite. It's quite nice, and has a fireplace. There are 3 other on suite rooms, all very nicely finished, with fireplaces. But this leaves us a few rooms short. They have an arrangement with the farmer across the road, who also has a couple of chalets, that if they are short of rooms, they refer their guests to him.
So, a quick visit there, and we have the info we need. Rooms could not be viewed as there were guests staying in them, but the place looks nice, and there are enough rooms for what we need.
Next stop is a place called Oranje. It has four star accreditation from the South African tourist board. An initial look around leaves one with a good impression. We meet with the hostess, who takes us on an initial tour. We sit down inside and she goes through all our options, right down to the flowers, candles, throws...
So organised it's obvious she does this for a living. She gave us copies of the menu options, pricing, made a list of all the things we wanted a quote on, down to arranging the priest. She gave me a copy of her wine list, and if there was a wine we wanted which was not on the list, she would source it for us. The chapel is way too big, but the ceremony can be held on the front lawns, which although brown right now as it's winter, still looked "attractive". Alternatively it can be held on the front porch (it can seat 60 guests!), or, if the weather is really bad, Inside, in the area we will be using for the reception.The rooms, all en suite are great, although a bit cold, but all have good heating systems. Overall a very impressive venue, and the one I would select. Only problem is that the date selected by the couple is taken! and so we tentatively booked the weekend before.
I hope that they will make the change required, as it is the best venues by far. Only problem could be that the grooms partner who is coming out from the UK has made his travel arrangements already, and getting that changed might be a problem.
We drove back to Clarens town, and stopped in at a pub/restaurant. We had to eat out as the Graceland chef was off for this weekend, so they were not serving meals. But, it was ok as it turned out they had a big screen TV so we could watch the rugby - SA v Oz - and we won! And the food was damn good.
After that we drove towards Graceland, stopping only for a few minutes to look at the site where the water which is piped from the Lesotho Highland water project for miles under through the mountain, eventually spills into the Ash river.
It's quite a site, more so because all that cold, crisp water started out a long way away as snow! Then on to Graceland, where we went to the chalet. Damn this place is cold. We left the oil heater and wall panel heaters on before we left earlier, and it's only just taken the chill off the air. Switched on the electric blankets, and the family watched TV till about 10pm., whilst I wrote this, and the summary of Mom's condition, and some of part two of my SADF story. (That might turn into a book).
So, next morning we book out of there, drive to Bethlehem and stop there for some breakfast at the Wimpy. Refueled the bus, and asked a couple of people about the military base in the middle of town. Two people didn't know it had ever existed, and one gave me the impression it had closed down, and relocated to the camp we had built in '77!!
So, no more camp, but I will go and have a look on Google Earth to confirm. Then we drove back home, back to Mom who was still in hospital, and to my brother, and to start putting together the options for the couple to be.
Salagatle!
My military service - cont.
Seeing as I have introduced my military experience in another blog here, Bethlehem 1977, I thought I would continue with the theme for now...
Basics was hard. I was not fit, smoked too much, and wasn't one for cold weather. Every morning we were up at 4 am. in running shorts and vests. It was -4 to -5 (maybe -6 to -7) deg C. Damn it was freezing, and we would run 5 -8 km. The distance varied subject to the condition of the corporals. If they had had a hard drinking session the night before it was 5, if not, up to 8!
If we didn't all arrive at the end point more or less together, we ran again, so we soon learnt to drag along the laggards, (fat boys, lazy boys, stoned boys) and they soon learned the short cuts. There was one guy I remember who was seriously overweight. Man, did he take strain..., but we pulled him through.
One time when we didn't make the finish as a group we were taken to an open veld that had been burnt about a week before, and made to leopard crawl across it, and back. That was really the pits. I still gave black marks under the skin where the burnt grass shafts went into/ under the skin. Some festered and popped out, some didn't.
Back at the bungalow we would then have inspection. This was started off by the corporal taking one of either the sand or water buckets placed outside in case of fire and throwing it across the meticulously polished floor! More often than not, in the first few weeks, it was the sand, as the water bucket was frozen solid!
Training in the first few weeks was limited to breaking us down, indoctrination, and fitness. Some firearm training and some explosive training came into play. Lots of running long distances with Gum poles, or bailey bridge parts was the norm.
Night marches started, with each of us carrying up to 50kg on our backs. Damn!
For me this was a very challenging period. Although I befriended some of the guys in my unit, I wasn't a proper fit across the board. So I ensured that I met the requirements as far as being a team player went, and did my bit with regards preparing the bungalow for inspection, but didn't get into a) arse creeping (brown nosing) the corporals / lieutenants, or, b) bucking the system the other way. Kinda middle of the road.
Morning, and some times midnight, inspections were so stupid really. It involved the room: windows and floors, each soldiers personal space: bed, cupboard, and clothing and person.Beds had to be flat, with all corners at perfect right angles. Crazy. These were seriously aged steel frame beds, with thin, bumpy mattresses! We were forced to get under the beds and lift sections with pairs of socks, or newspaper and stuff, just to get the top level and flat.
Then the beds were made in a specific way. All the corners were ironed to get them flat and square. We learned many tricks to make this simple, one of which was to smear shaving cream onto the blanket, and then iron it in. This would then harden and the bed would keep the desired shape. It also meant the we would sleep on the floor most nights, as there would never be enough time in the mornings to do this!
Clothing had to be ironed with specific creases, and boots polished till mirror finish was achieved.A piece of fishing line placed into the front leg seam of a pair of trousers and then ironed in gave a permanent and perfect line! For those who were a bit more handy, they sowed a permanent seam!Polishing boots was maybe simpler, although it did take a lot of buffing.Polish was applied liberally, especially on the toe area. This was then set alight and allowed to melt into the boot. Much polishing / buffing thereafter would bring out the most incredible shine!!
Personal hygiene was very important, and one guy who was going for the mentally unfit card to get out of the service was often treated to a cold shower by his room mates as a) he stank to high heaven, and b) they were punished regularly because of his state.
I had never shaved, but in the second week the corporal decided to take a closer look, found some fine hair on my face, and as punishment made me take a sharp stone, and with cols water shave my face! It bled like crazy, and the scabs took weeks to heal, but I was now shaving like most of the rest.
Sundays we were trucked in to town to attend church services at our respective churches. Week one saw each selecting the church they had been brought up in. From week two the trucks going to the churches which were the previous week reported to have the most and nicest girls were the fullest!! I was lucky to have decided on a church that was around the corner from a roadhouse! this meant that each week me and my mates would buy loads of burgers and or Dagwood's on order, and make a few bucks on each! Paid for the smokes!
Week 3 in basics saw us moving out of the main base in town, and into two out of town camps, 21 and 22 Squadrons. I was in 21. 22 Was an established camp, with most minimum amenities. 21 was a new base. We arrived to find 2 semi complete bungalows, a couple of tents, half a parade ground, a couple of ammo bunkers, and a shooting range.
Our task, apart from the training, was to complete the building of the base.The bungalow completion wasn't too difficult. Most of us were apprentices in some trade or other.The parade ground on the other hand was a different story. There was a mountain of sand which had been trucked in, and had been flattened to some extent. However the sides kept breaking away, so rocks needed to be packed up all around to prevent this erosion.The rocks came from a hill across the veld, about 1 km away! Every time we had to run (for punishment or fitness) we were sent across the veld (a slight decline) to the top of the hill. Wait for the others to arrive. Collect a rock (no smaller then your head) and run back, down the hill, up the veld to the camp. Place the rock in the pile with the rest....
At the end of basics (that's what they called the initiation phase of 6-8 weeks) we had a parents day where a massive display of our capabilities was put on, and after which we were allowed home for the weekend.It was so good to see my folks again, and then taste mom's great cooking, and get to see the girlfriend! I almost ate her alive!
The next 5 months were spent training, mainly in preparation for the bush war we were in the middle of. I'm still not sure if what we did was right or wrong. I suppose it depends which side of the fence you came from.
What I did know was that I had already lost some of my older friends to that war, I was 18 and put into a situation I wasn't sure I cared to be in, but I was going proudly. It's the way we were raised.
Weekend passes were great, but getting home wasn't so easy. For those guys really far from home, an overnight train ride. For those of us closer, hitch hiking. Sometimes you got lucky and got a single lift to your destination. Other times, you hiked most of the night! It was a 3 hour drive to my home, and more than once it took me 6 - 7 hours.
Once, hiking back to camp I got a lift in a Mercedes at about 3 am. Two older guys upfront. I lay down on the back seat for a snooze. Next minute there was an incredible bang, and glass flying all over. We'd hit a horse crossing the road, and we were doing about 120km/h at the time. Damn scary stuff when you see half the horse come through the windscreen. We managed to get towed in to town I got to base.
Another time I got a lift quite quickly, fell asleep on the back of the truck, and woke up 120 km past my home town. Needed to hike back!!! At least in those days we could hitch hike, it was relatively safe to do so,, and there was a national "soldier awareness" campaign on which helped.
We also got to spend 2 weeks during this initial training period in an obscure camp which was used for "war games" then known as Luatla, near a town called Danielkuil.
December 23, 1977 - here we were, expecting to be told that we would be getting a long break so as to spend Xmas at home with our families. A message came through from South West Africa (now Namibia) to say that the "old boys" (them who were the intake before ours) had gone ballistic. They had originally been called up for 12 months, and now that they were near to completing their stint, they ere informed that it had been extended to 24 months! Apparently they lost the plot completely, and a decision was taken to fly them back to South Africa and give them some time off.
That left a hole in the Engineering services on the border. That left us on a plane to Grootfontein (LIU) within 24 hours!!!!
Salagatle!
Mom - final update
Monday 18th, Mom was still in hospital this morning, and still feeling nauseous! The doctor came round at about 9am, and decided to stop the medication they were giving here through the drip Penicillin...
Within 2 hours of them stopping it, Mom was feeling 100% better, Nausea gone, ravenous, and ate her first meal since she was admitted. By 2 pm, when my brother got back to the hospital, she was released, and he took her home.
Princess and I went round to see her this evening, and she's really looking much better, and is in good spirits. She was sleeping when we arrived, so we visited for a while with my brother. A little later we heard a bell ringing? Seems brother had given her one to use to call him with when she needed him!
Anyway, on Wednesday at midday they go to the airport, and fly to the coast so that she can stay with him and his family for a couple of weeks, maybe a month or two, till she's strong again.
It's great that she can go, and that his wife does not work so she can look after Mom full time.
Thanx Boet - you and your family are very, very special.
Thanx to all my readers ( all 3 - 4 of you) for the good wishes.
Salagtle!
Within 2 hours of them stopping it, Mom was feeling 100% better, Nausea gone, ravenous, and ate her first meal since she was admitted. By 2 pm, when my brother got back to the hospital, she was released, and he took her home.
Princess and I went round to see her this evening, and she's really looking much better, and is in good spirits. She was sleeping when we arrived, so we visited for a while with my brother. A little later we heard a bell ringing? Seems brother had given her one to use to call him with when she needed him!
Anyway, on Wednesday at midday they go to the airport, and fly to the coast so that she can stay with him and his family for a couple of weeks, maybe a month or two, till she's strong again.
It's great that she can go, and that his wife does not work so she can look after Mom full time.
Thanx Boet - you and your family are very, very special.
Thanx to all my readers ( all 3 - 4 of you) for the good wishes.
Salagtle!
Monday, June 18, 2007
Some pics from our trip to Clarens
FOr those of you who read my crap:-
Here are some pics taken over the weekend.....
This is the Free State in winter....
A pic of the main road through Heilbron
Proof that I did go back, after 28 years....
Our overnight accommodation at a place called Graceland. Yea, I know, how "original"!
Pic inside the Graceland Pub, pretty nice. But both the chef, and the barman were on their weekend off....
More to follow.
Salagatle!
Here are some pics taken over the weekend.....
This is the Free State in winter....
A pic of the main road through Heilbron
Proof that I did go back, after 28 years....
Our overnight accommodation at a place called Graceland. Yea, I know, how "original"!
Pic inside the Graceland Pub, pretty nice. But both the chef, and the barman were on their weekend off....More to follow.
Salagatle!
More on Mom
Saturady morning - the alarm was set for 6.20 am as we wanted to get an early start for our trip to Clarens, but wanted to pop in to see Mom on the way as she has not been well, as per one of my previous posts. Alarm goes off - I kill it - the phone starts to ring!
I answer, not recognising the cell number on the display. A man, calling me by name introduces himself. He says he's Mom's neighbour. I go ice cold. He says he does not want to alarm me, but Friday night he had rushed Mom to hospital! At this point I'm still half asleep, but fast taking in all the details as hes recounting them to me. I thank him, and hang up. I'm stunned!
It seems Mom, who has been getting dizzy spells since taking ill had stood up, probably to change a setting on the TV, or move from the chair to the couch, I'm not sure. Anyway she fell, and banged her head, just above the right ear, on the brick edge of the fireplace! There was blood evrywhere!!!
She called the neighbour across the road for some assistance. They were brilliant! The guy brought some bandages and stuff, wrapped Mom up, and rushed her the 25kn to the hospital.
There she was admitted, x-rayed, stitched up, put on a drip and kept overnight to check for concussion. he didn't want to call me up then, as he knew from Mom that we were on a long trip the next morning. He also knew we were to stop in at her home, so figured he would call in the morning before we left, so as to ensure we wouldn't arrive at Mom's door and not find her there.
We drove through to the hospital. I wasn't sure if we would still be going on out trip or not, and decided to leave the decision till we had seen Mom. On the way I called my brother to update him. We agreed that maybe we should try and convince her to go and stay with him at the coast as it is warmer, and she would be looked after 24/7 as my sister in law does not work so would be there all the time. Or, he would come up with his wife and stay with her for 2 weeks to help her.
She didn't look well. Her hair was still all matted with blood. She seemed to have aged 10 years. But, her spirit was up. She said she wasn't in any pain.
She wouldn't be coming out that day, and probably would only be released on Sunday, maybe Monday. She was in good hands. I had a look at the cut, and damn it was a serious one. But, like she said, she felt ok. I told her of the options for care, and at first she didn't seem keen. But after some discussing she agreed, that if Princess would accompany her on the flight down, she would go and stay with him. I said it would be for a month or so, and she seemed to be content with that.
I called the nurse for her as she wanted to go to the loo, and so we said our goodbye's and left. She was tired, and breakfast was soon to be served, with the change of staff coming etc. We didn't want to be in the way. Outside we decided she was well enough for us to still go on our trip.
On the way I called my brother and gave him another update. He said to let him know if she seemed to worsen. Then Princess called my sister. Princess spoke to her, as I haven't been on speaking terms with her for some time, and didn't care to start now, even under this circumstance. Then we drove to Mom's best friends hose, a Nun who lives near her to tell her. But my sister had already called.
We then set off foe Clarens, and on the way, to pass through Bethlehem, a town I had in July '79 sworn never to return to!
By 9.30 am my brother called to say he had spoken to Mom. He said he didn't like the way she sounded, slurring and all. (This was the medication, but anyway..) and he'd managed to get on a flight leaving for Johannesburg at 10.30am! he was coming up to see Mom.
The Nun called at about 10.45 to say she had been to see Mom, and she seemed to be ok. Later my brother called to say he'd arrived and was driving a rental to the hospital.
Mom was surprised to see him, and said he shouldn't have bothered, as she wasn't dying! His response was that when he had called earlier she had agreed to go home with him, so he was there to fetch her. She couldn't even remember the call, or having spoken to him. But agreed that by Thursday, seeing as the doctor said it was ok for her to fly, they could go down!!
My sister arrived at the hospital, and as his relationship with her is similar to mine, he took advantage of the opportunity and left to go to Mom's house to get her some more pyjamas, her toothbrush and some other stuff.
Later my sister called to give us an update. She called the Princess on her cell, obviously not wanting to take the chance of getting me on mine!!!
Mom seemed to be improving all the time.
By Saturday evening when my brother called to say he had got the keys to our home, and was now on his way there to have a shower and make an early night of it, he said she was much improved. The doctor had said he would release her the next day. He was tired as sin. Mom was going to brush her teeth and then go to the loo, and then get some sleep. All well, by the sound of it.
We left first thing in the morning, stopping for breakfast and refuel. 2 hours 45 minutes later we were home. On the way my brother had called to say Mom was going to stay in hospital for another day, so we didn't go past her home. At home we visited a bit with my brother, then went through to see Mom. She's really taking strain with the nausea, and hasn't eaten yet. Not good.
Later, we go back and visit for a short while. Still not eating. Still nauseous. I'm not happy with the situation, but think that it's better she stay in hospital overnight. Hopefully by Monday morning there will be an improvement.
Monday, 18th, I'm in a 8.30 meeting. My brother called to say that Mom had a good night, but threw up again this am.... The doctor has decided she might be allergic to the penicillin they have been giving her via the dip! So he's taking here off that, and keeping her overnight again, to see if that helps.
I'm really needing the assistance of angels, and any other Catholic saints (Mom's Catholic) to intervene right now.
As for our trip to Clarens - via Bethlehem, well, that's for another post...
Salagatle!
I answer, not recognising the cell number on the display. A man, calling me by name introduces himself. He says he's Mom's neighbour. I go ice cold. He says he does not want to alarm me, but Friday night he had rushed Mom to hospital! At this point I'm still half asleep, but fast taking in all the details as hes recounting them to me. I thank him, and hang up. I'm stunned!
It seems Mom, who has been getting dizzy spells since taking ill had stood up, probably to change a setting on the TV, or move from the chair to the couch, I'm not sure. Anyway she fell, and banged her head, just above the right ear, on the brick edge of the fireplace! There was blood evrywhere!!!
She called the neighbour across the road for some assistance. They were brilliant! The guy brought some bandages and stuff, wrapped Mom up, and rushed her the 25kn to the hospital.
There she was admitted, x-rayed, stitched up, put on a drip and kept overnight to check for concussion. he didn't want to call me up then, as he knew from Mom that we were on a long trip the next morning. He also knew we were to stop in at her home, so figured he would call in the morning before we left, so as to ensure we wouldn't arrive at Mom's door and not find her there.
We drove through to the hospital. I wasn't sure if we would still be going on out trip or not, and decided to leave the decision till we had seen Mom. On the way I called my brother to update him. We agreed that maybe we should try and convince her to go and stay with him at the coast as it is warmer, and she would be looked after 24/7 as my sister in law does not work so would be there all the time. Or, he would come up with his wife and stay with her for 2 weeks to help her.
She didn't look well. Her hair was still all matted with blood. She seemed to have aged 10 years. But, her spirit was up. She said she wasn't in any pain.
She wouldn't be coming out that day, and probably would only be released on Sunday, maybe Monday. She was in good hands. I had a look at the cut, and damn it was a serious one. But, like she said, she felt ok. I told her of the options for care, and at first she didn't seem keen. But after some discussing she agreed, that if Princess would accompany her on the flight down, she would go and stay with him. I said it would be for a month or so, and she seemed to be content with that.
I called the nurse for her as she wanted to go to the loo, and so we said our goodbye's and left. She was tired, and breakfast was soon to be served, with the change of staff coming etc. We didn't want to be in the way. Outside we decided she was well enough for us to still go on our trip.
On the way I called my brother and gave him another update. He said to let him know if she seemed to worsen. Then Princess called my sister. Princess spoke to her, as I haven't been on speaking terms with her for some time, and didn't care to start now, even under this circumstance. Then we drove to Mom's best friends hose, a Nun who lives near her to tell her. But my sister had already called.
We then set off foe Clarens, and on the way, to pass through Bethlehem, a town I had in July '79 sworn never to return to!
By 9.30 am my brother called to say he had spoken to Mom. He said he didn't like the way she sounded, slurring and all. (This was the medication, but anyway..) and he'd managed to get on a flight leaving for Johannesburg at 10.30am! he was coming up to see Mom.
The Nun called at about 10.45 to say she had been to see Mom, and she seemed to be ok. Later my brother called to say he'd arrived and was driving a rental to the hospital.
Mom was surprised to see him, and said he shouldn't have bothered, as she wasn't dying! His response was that when he had called earlier she had agreed to go home with him, so he was there to fetch her. She couldn't even remember the call, or having spoken to him. But agreed that by Thursday, seeing as the doctor said it was ok for her to fly, they could go down!!
My sister arrived at the hospital, and as his relationship with her is similar to mine, he took advantage of the opportunity and left to go to Mom's house to get her some more pyjamas, her toothbrush and some other stuff.
Later my sister called to give us an update. She called the Princess on her cell, obviously not wanting to take the chance of getting me on mine!!!
Mom seemed to be improving all the time.
By Saturday evening when my brother called to say he had got the keys to our home, and was now on his way there to have a shower and make an early night of it, he said she was much improved. The doctor had said he would release her the next day. He was tired as sin. Mom was going to brush her teeth and then go to the loo, and then get some sleep. All well, by the sound of it.
We left first thing in the morning, stopping for breakfast and refuel. 2 hours 45 minutes later we were home. On the way my brother had called to say Mom was going to stay in hospital for another day, so we didn't go past her home. At home we visited a bit with my brother, then went through to see Mom. She's really taking strain with the nausea, and hasn't eaten yet. Not good.
Later, we go back and visit for a short while. Still not eating. Still nauseous. I'm not happy with the situation, but think that it's better she stay in hospital overnight. Hopefully by Monday morning there will be an improvement.
Monday, 18th, I'm in a 8.30 meeting. My brother called to say that Mom had a good night, but threw up again this am.... The doctor has decided she might be allergic to the penicillin they have been giving her via the dip! So he's taking here off that, and keeping her overnight again, to see if that helps.
I'm really needing the assistance of angels, and any other Catholic saints (Mom's Catholic) to intervene right now.
As for our trip to Clarens - via Bethlehem, well, that's for another post...
Salagatle!
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