franschhoek

After lunch Woz and I left Lindsay and Delilah to drive back to Cape Town while we drove further inland to Franschhoek. We drove through beautiful scenery to get there and once there we were not disappointed, least not with the beautiful cottage we stayed in. The town was very small, and nestled amoungst the mountains and surrounding wineries. The architecture was stunning, the setting picturesque and there was no shortage of restaurants, cafes and little boutiques to wander in and out of. Had we had a house in Africa somewhere we could easily have bought loads of beautiful furniture and other handcrafted accessories to furnish a house, but we didn't think it would quite work in our flat in London so we declined.


The cottage we stayed in was so lovely and inspired us to build something like it one day, where and when we don't know, but it's something to dream about. It was so simple, just the basic necessities yet beautifully done and decorated with individual crockery made by the owner of the property.

day five

Today Lindsay, Delilah, Woz and I drove out to the wine farms (wineries) in Stellenbosch just an hour out of Capetown. The landscape was beautiful, and the further we drove away the more mountain ranges were revealed. I don't remember a time when there was ever a view free from a mountain whether nearby or in the distance.

We visited four wineries and bought a bottle at three of those. The wine was all very good quality and dirt cheap when you converted it to pounds. We bought bottles of wine that would retail in the UK for about £15.00 for around £1.50.

Our favourite winery was JC Le Roux which is dedicated to sparkling wine. It was a beautiful property and we sat outside and had a gourmet lunch in the warm air. It was such a relaxing day.

sand dunes

cape of good hope

day four

Table Mountain dominates the landscape in Cape Town. It's size means that it never fades into the distance, and can be seen towering over the city at all times - except of course when it is completely hidden by cloud. It's a little eerie when this happens as for a newcomer to the city, the mountain is used as a means of navigation, however when it disappears you get a feeling off being lost in a desert of roads without being sure of where they are leading you.

This morning we had brunch with Lindsay and Deliliah before driving up to Table Mountain in the hope that the day would stay clear and we would be able to take the cable car up to the viewing point. Although each day so far had been warm, the cloud was incredibly unpredictable and would change several times daily. By the time we reached the cable car the sun was beaming down on us and there wasn't a cloud to be seen, it was however too windy for us to take the trip up and the cable car was closed.

From there we decided to visit Chapman's Peak again, this time in the light of day. We made it all the way to the Cape of Good Hope which is the most south-western point on the African Continent. To get there we drove for hours through National Park, seeing wild baboons along the way.

We were invited to dinner with Lindsay's family which was across the other side of town. We decided to avoid Cape Town (and the traffic) and drive along the coast and then through the rural areas outside of town. Looking at our map we navigated a journey and after driving along the coast for some time we headed inland. It wasn't long after we had turned off we noticed discarded rubbish covering the landscape, as we drove further we noticed some of the settlers homes (slums) that we'd seen on the way out of the airport. It was fascinating to drive past and thinking they would pass quickly we continued on. This wasn't the case though and we found ourselves getting deeper and deeper into the slum. We stood out like a sore thumb as we were not only driving a much nicer car than those on the streets, but we were the only white people. We dared not take a photograph and tried to find our way out using our very basic map. After about 20 minutes, having driven through kilometre after kilometre of makeshift housing, shops and roadside stalls we found our way out and back onto the major highway. By now it was dark.

When we arrived at Lindsay's house we told him of our detour and he and his family were astounded that we'd made it out without being carjacked, recommending we don't get creative with our driving again and stick only to the roads we know.

what they do for a crust

One of the initiatives that the Kenya Children's Home have taken on is to be a self sufficient children's home. In order to do this they operate various businesses out of the home, one of them being a professional bakery. The bread is cooked on the premises where it is then used for the home and is also sold locally as a source of income.

the first african sunset

chapman's peak

on the road

south african landscape

the beach

day two

This morning was Lindsay and Delilah’s wedding, the reason for our visit to South Africa. They had planned the ceremony to be held on the deck of a hotel on the beach, where those attending the wedding would look upon the couple with Table Mountain as the backdrop. What they didn’t count on was an almost unbelievable covering of mist which effectively left the wedding in a white out. Not only was Table Mountain invisible but so was the beach. We could hear the waves but couldn’t see them. Of course the wedding went ahead despite the weather and it was equally magical.

By mid morning after a lavish breakfast, the sun had come out and the fog cleared revealing the beautiful landscape. We joined all the guests in a brief frolick on the beach before returning inside to see the Bride and Groom cut the cake.

Only an hour or so later with the wedding guests now mostly gone Woz and I thought we’d spend the rest of the afternoon on the beach and returned outside only to find it had disappeared once again in the mist.

With that in mind we decided we’d go for a drive to escape the mist and headed towards Table Mountain, finding our way to Chapmans Peak.

On our way home we received a call from Lindsay and Delilah with an invitation to go for dinner with them to Lindsay’s favourite seafood restaurant. We had a great night with them and some precious time given all the people they had to catch up with while in Capetown.

spray painting ships in the harbour

day one

We arrived in Cape Town at 6.30am. After a 12 hour overnight flight we felt quite rested, having managed to get some broken sleep on the plane. We were fortunate enough to have as many rows of seats to sleep on as we wanted as the plane was barely scattered with passengers, around 30 in all.

My first introduction to South Africa was in the car on the way out of the airport as we drove past hundreds of makeshift houses, making up communities with no borders as they were built one on top of another, and another, and another, the members of which were streaming out in a steady flow to stand on the side of the motorway waiting to be picked up.

They were picked up in vans and utes, and as we sat in traffic we watched countless cars driving past, their passengers on their way to work, the open back tray of the ute heaving with people, cramped and sitting on top of each other. All of the passengers were black, with either a lone black person driving or occasionally a white person.

Normally I wouldn’t refer to the skin colour or race of those I write about, purely because it is irrelevant. However in South Africa, colour is everything, not just black and white but ‘coloured’ as well. You are acutely aware that you are ‘white’, and that others around you are not, that those who live in the settler towns are ‘black’, that those who stand by the road selling wares are ‘black’, and that those who are ‘coloured’ (the term they use for mixed race) fit somewhere in between. There is a social order which is a hang-up from the days of apartheid, and it is very clear that it has left a very distinct scar on it’s people.

As we sat watching the equivalent of cattle trucks driving past, ferrying ‘black’ people to work I was horrified and dumbfounded that they would not be afforded seat belts and seats in a covered van like all the ‘white’ people around them.

"That’s Africa baby" remarked Woz, a seasoned traveller in Africa … and so my education began.
After unpacking our bags we drove in to the city centre and down to the waterfront for fish and chips. After lunch we spent at least an hour watching traditional African dancers and singers in an amphitheatre on the waterfront. Nate loved the music and dancing and joined in at every opportunity, kicking his legs in his buggy and clapping his hands. For years I’ve loved the sound of African voices singing in harmony and I sat there I was pinching myself to think that I was sitting there listening to them in the flesh, in Africa. It was sitting there that I realised what an incredible education this is to Nate, although probably too young to really understand most of it at his age.

In the afternoon we met up with Lindsay and Delilah and went with them to their official wedding ceremony along with their immediate family. In South Africa a marriage is only legal if it is performed in an approved venue, and as they wanted to be married on the beach they had to have the official ceremony the day before.

After the ceremony we met up with loads of their family and friends where we had a braai (BBQ) to celebrate the occasion. Woz, Nate and I were made to feel so welcome by their family and felt immediately at home.

we're back!

It's only been a little over two weeks and yet it feels as though we've been gone months - Africa has a way of enveloping you. We've taken so many photos and have so much to write, about what we've seen and experienced. So much it is likely to take some time, so updating our blog may take several days.

We'll fill you all in soon.
x

some time in the sun

A while ago we mentioned that we intended to travel to Africa this year. Well the time has come and we fly out next week. The reason for our travel is to attend the wedding of Lindsay and Delilah, two South African friends of ours who now live in London. From there we travel to Kenya, to visit some children we sponsor in two villages outside of Nairobi. The organisation have agreed to meet us at our accommodation and will escort us to the homes of the children, the school and the project. We then travel to a local orphanage, Thomas Barnardo's House, the organisers of which will also pick us up from our accommodation and escort us. All up we will spend a week at the orphanage where we plan to help out at the various projects they run. My input will depend entirely on Nate and how he copes with the culture change. It is likely that I will spend the whole time in the nursery with him, helping out with the younger children. Woz plans to get involved with everything and anything they need whether it be practically working on projects or helping out in the school. All in all it's going to be a life changing experience for both of us.

We made our plans to travel to Kenya not long before the trouble broke out early this year. We seriously considered not going, and even now, will cancel our plans the day before we fly if we fear our safety. If need be, if we find ourselves in Nairobi and feel unsafe, we are prepared to camp out at the airport until we are able to get a flight back to London. What we do know though is that we've longed for years to travel to Africa (for Woz it will be a return visit), to visit the children we've been sponsoring and writing letters to for years, and to learn from what we see and experience. Although Nate may be too young to remember this trip we hope it will birth in him a thirst for adventure and a heart to make a difference in the lives of others.

it's beginning to look a lot like christmas

This week we've had some lovely warm spring weather. With temperatures as warm as 16 degrees (I realise how silly that sounds but it's all relative), we've been prancing about in the sun in t-shirts, daring to venture out without our coats and only a light jacket at hand. Coupled with the start of British Summer Time it has meant that the British people at large have breathed a sigh of relief and have become altogether happier and much nicer to be around. Us included. Only two days ago I commented to Woz that we seemed to have passed the worst of the weather and it was likely we'd not need to turn our heaters on again. Not so.

This morning when we woke up it was unusually cold but with spring upon us we certainly didn't expect what we saw when we looked out the window - magical, fluffy snow falling heavily, leaving a lovely cover of white on almost everything it touched. The shared courtyard below looked beautiful and as we ventured out it only got more spectacular.

home sweet home

Ok so I have finally got around to taking some photos of the loft.

A very strange thing has transpired since selling our boat. When we lived on the boat we were so house proud. We were constantly making sure it was presentable, neat and tidy and able to slot right into an interior design magazine should they come knocking. When we moved into the loft we assumed that this trait would follow and so with four days off at Easter Woz and I expected to be working dawn til dusk, transforming the loft into a home and something we could be proud of.

What has happened is just the opposite. It is so strange but the move from owning our own home to renting has given us a complacency about home life. We come home and treat it as a hotel. Our things are unpacked but not really for good. We've managed to look past the yellow sponge painting on the kitchen wall, the horrible laminate kitchen work top and the crooked toilet seat. It's as if they're no longer there. I am convinced that if the loft was ours we'd have gone crazy painting and ripping things out by now, but given that it's not we haven't even been able to muster the motivation to put photos up on the wall or make it ours in any way.

We're still looking to buy a flat in this area but with crazy prices which don't seem to be affected by what is apparently a falling market we've not been able to find something we think will not only be a home for us but also an investment.

So here it is, a beautiful building with lots of potential, furnished with nothing but stock standard Ikea furniture and a touch of imagination but still a long way to go.

It's essentially a studio flat, large living area downstairs and two mezzanine areas above, one (pictured) we use as the bedroom and the other which is above the kitchen and bathroom, we use for storage.

blog roll

Dear readers,
I've decided to include some links on our blog and thought I'd introduce each of them to you.

What strikes me with the personal blogs is that Woz or I have grown up with most of these people and yet if we look at their lives now they barely show a resemblance.

In alphabetical order ...

Doctor Benny's Rural Adventures - My not so baby brother's adventures in rural Victoria as he studies to become a Doctor. This boy leaves nothing unblogged!

Kiwis on Top - Friends and fellow Londoners, Andrew & Vicki are Kiwis who flew the nest to spend 5 years in Melbourne and are now living in London. Enviable photography.

Live the Dream - a site set up when we were selling our boat. Photos and some commonly asked questions if you want to get up to speed with our life on the water without reading the last three years posts on this site!

Oh Paky Day - A blog set up by our dear friend Claire to keep us informed of the goings on in Pakenham. Guaranteed to make us truly homesick with every post. (No doubt this blog is financed by my parents).

Top End Time - Probably the strongest contrast to our life so far, (and her own growing up), Woz's sister Michelle's adventures in Northern Australia. A constant source of inspiration to us to reinvent our life.

Right here, right now - The great British weather.

Weatherheads Online - Written by my Mum this blog gives the Irwins a run for their money and provides me with daily reminders of what my life was like growing up. Look out for the snakes (killed by Mum with her bare hands), goannas, echidnas, steam engines and sawmillers and join them on their caravaning escapades in the Australian bush.

since we've no place to go

5 degrees today and more snow, this time it fell most of the day, at times in huge marshmallow sized flakes. It's the third day in a row now we've had snow but still no ground cover. Beautiful all the same. Makes me glad we chose to stay in London for Easter rather than fly to one of it's warmer neighbouring cities, as most do.

oh the weather outside is frightful

There is no mistaking it, the weather of late has been particuarly wintery.

In Australia, each year on the 1st of September, the population rejoices for Spring has come. On that very day the air smells sweeter, plump and rich with pollen and grasses, the day is warmer and from that moment on and for the months ahead there is not a hint of winteryness to be seen or felt (at least that's how I remember it).

In Britain, the 1st of March comes along and it passes by almost unnoticed but for a sprinkling of blossom on previously barren branches, on the 1st of June what should be the start of Summer also passes by, green but by no means warmer.

And here we are, late March. Technically, almost a full month into Spring. Bitterly cold, blustery and grey. Is it just me or is there something wrong?

For three years we've dreamt of a White Christmas, but never a White Easter. This morning however we woke to a White Easter Sunday. The magical sight of soft snow swirling about in the wind, falling gently to the ground was enough to melt my heart and my resolve against the Great British Weather, at least until the next snow free 7 degree 'Spring' day.

and so begin 'the loft years'

Well we're in. In, but a long long way from comfortable. We have boxes, plastic tubs and bags littering every inch of floor space at the moment as we slowly try to find some sort of order. The flat has the potential to be amazing, but as it is a rental property it has been fitted out with the bare minimum, to fit a small budget and with the least possible taste or creativity. As we're renting we can only do so much, but in a few weeks we hope we will have transformed it somewhat from what it was.

We're absolutely loving having a bath in the flat. For a year and a half we've had to take Nate over to the bathroom at the marina facilities, which meant carting over shampoo, fresh clothes, a fresh nappy, a towel and a toddler who refused to be held and would wriggle his way out of our grasp to walk over himself with reckless disregard for time constraints. All this in the freezing cold.

We're also loving having more floorspace. Soooo much more floorspace. In this flat we have enough room for a full sized dining table which is something we've missed for so long. Eating a meal together is something that is important to us and wasn't always possible on the boat.

So, we'll keep working ... watch this space for photos.

those were the barge years my friend

I thought they’d never end ... at times anyway. At least that’s what I’m trying to remind myself in what has been a very sad week or two as we prepare to move off the boat for good.

It’s not yet been two weeks since we wrote last and it feels like months. After much searching, a few weeks ago Woz and I found a flat we liked and put the plans in motion to move out of the boat. With our safety certificate passed, hull survey done and the flat ready within two weeks we signed on the dotted line and will move in today with the new owner moving into the boat tomorrow.

The last three years have been an emotional journey. Having reduced the boat to a shell not long after buying it and slowly rebuilding it, it has been a challenge at the best of times. I remember clearly, waking up, pushing our mattress up against the wall, covering it with plastic, retrieving a suitable piece of clothing from beneath another piece of plastic, taking a shower over at the shower block, then making my way to work, leaving Woz to continue to work at making a home for us. After work I would come home and join him, turning in for the night around 11 or 12pm, with a quick flip of the mattress down to the floor and a quick brush to the soles of our feet so as not to transfer anymore dirt and grime into the bed as possible. How we didn’t look like homeless people is beyond me.

I remember months of not having a toilet, running water, or a floor to walk on. Days that were swallowed by a perpetual list of things to do, broken only by short stays of friends and family from abroad.

Those were the days my friend …

I remember the thrill of being able to take the boat out whenever we felt like it, having a completely different view out your bedroom window if you so chose, ducks and geese meandering past, showing people the home that we’d built with our bare hands, amazing parties, being able to show friends a glimpse of a London they might not otherwise see, and the locks … oh the locks!

So, as the last chapter of the Barge Years draws to an end, we begin another chapter, in a loft apartment on another wharf just around the corner and still with access to the water (although no views).

We shall call these our Loft Years.

for a short time

Our last trip on the boat. Sigh ....

We've had a very late Winter this year and been experiencing absolutely terrible weather so it was with great trepidation and lots of coats, gloves and hats that we set out on Saturday, up and back to Little Venice for the last time.

We took a group of friends along for the ride, some of them veterans, and others new to the experience. The weather was kind to us and we made it all the way through the four locks and safely to a pub for lunch without getting wet. On the way home we were met with relentless drizzle but thankfully no downpours.

Nate slept both there and back, first on my shoulder at the back of the boat, and later on Bec's lap. It would have been nice for our last trip to have been on a sun drenched day, with lush green surrounds rather than the grey winter landscape but unfortunately we've had the last of our Summer days on Papillon.

What next? A yacht on the Mediterranean? That could work.

right behind you

just the two of us

On Saturday morning Woz helped one of our neighbours, Dom, take his boat down to the local boat painter around the corner. Dom hadn't taken his boat out since last Summer so he called in Woz to help him out. We've taken our boat out too many times to count, particularly in the last few months as the end to our 'barge years' draw to a close.

The exterior of Dom's boat was in a particularly bad condition so it will be a complete transformation when it comes back ... although he's still not sure what colour. Plenty of time for that though!

busy bees

Life in our household is very busy at the moment. We have an endless list of 'to do's' which seems to be added to daily with a comparative few being ticked off. There's the boat safety certificate and everything we've had to do to make sure it's up to scratch, the hull survey, booking tickets and everything else that comes with it for our trip to South Africa and Kenya in April, trying to find a place in a nursery for Nate, and then there's finding a place to live which to date has involved countless hours of scanning the internet, as yet, in vain.


The sale of our boat is coming along nicely, well frightening close actually. We haven't agreed a date we will move out as we're yet to find a flat to rent, but with the new owner having sold her flat and staying on a friends living room floor we're obviously keen for it to happen a.s.a.p.

there were three in the bed

Well it's official, after three years we now have cabin fever. They said it would happen, and actually we didn't think it would take this long, but three years down the track, with the end in sight, the boat all of a sudden seems to have gotten smaller. Nate's toys seem to be bursting out of his toy basket, our clothes out of our wardrobe and even the kitchen cupboards seem to have shrunk.

Only we still don't know where we're going next ...

no fixed address

It never fails to amaze me how much of a spectacle a narrowboat passing through a lock becomes. Add to the equation a flashy modern boat and a cute toddler and crowds are drawn, infinite in number and unrelenting in their stare.

This afternoon I had another disturbing phone call from Woz. This time he and two mates had taken the boat out to Paddington. I was of course planning on coming home and relaxing but once again, a familiar conundrum presented itself. How is it that I can go home when indeed my home is not at home at all?

The answer today lay in the number 29 bus where I jumped off at Camden Lock to meet Woz, Dobs and Martin. Our past experience of Camden has been either passing through on the underground, an exercise which results in only a brief interchange with Camdenites, or to pass through via the canal, where the younger Camden crowd come face to face with the lock, and almost with ourselves. Venturing through Camden High Street on foot on a warm sunny afternoon however is an entirely different scenario. Pushing a buggy through the immense crowds who are knee deep in Doc Martens, clothed in black and sporting multi-coloured mohawks is an experience not to be forgotten and certainly one that left me feeling out of place.

I finaly met up with the guys at the lock, where millions of visitors (no word of a lie) photographed and recorded us as we passed Nate over the railings, then the buggy, then me.

I don't get it ... Boat goes in, gates close. Boat goes down, gates open. Boat goes out again. It's not that exciting.

But still they stare ...

mooring anyone?

What a rollercoaster ride the last few months have been.

On New Year's Day we had a phonecall from someone who had seen our site and was interested in viewing the boat. We'd only listed the boat a week or two before, and over the busy Christmas period so we hadn't anticipated much interest. We acted immediately and scheduled the viewing for later that afternoon. What a great start to the year!

The viewing took two hours as the enthusiastic couple questioned us on every detail and inspected the boat inside and out, getting very excited in the process. They left us high as a kite with full intentions to buy the boat. We then stopped taking viewings and put everyone else who contacted us on hold. A fortnight later with great reluctance they came back to us, regrettably unable to finance the purchase and terribly disappointed.

So were we.

But not for long, with viewings back on the cards our second intersted buyer came along. He too loved the boat and after a quick 20 min early morning viewing before work he too set off to organise the finance on the boat. A week or so later, he had bad news for us, and once again, our hopes were dashed.

I'd like to say we were very level headed about it all but in all honesty we had a few dark days there when we realised that the hard bit wouldn't be finding someone who loved the boat, but finding someone who could finance it. It really felt as though we'd never find anyone.

Last weekend we scheduled a third viewing ... she offered and the process began again. Things don't feel like they're on hold this time though as we've been busily exchanging emails and paperwork. Having given notice to British Waterways, if things go ahead we could be moving in as little as a month ... but where to?

According to our poll, our readers think that we should opt for a bigger boat. We're still searching, and should a mooring come up we'd love nothing more.

Anyone got a mooring up their sleeve?

slightly different from yesterday

like sunday morning

cashed up?

Of course there is always a plus side to publicity, particuarly when you have a captive market of obviously interested punters. At the risk of being completely inundated with questions, potentially making our leisurely afternoon into an advertising campaign we put up a 'For Sale' sign on our boat. Lots of photos just like this one were taken. Now we play the waiting game.

camera shy

Every man and his dog was out walking along the canal today. It was our first trip out since last Summer and somehow over the Winter months we had forgotten the amount of attention boaters receive when stopped at the locks. Everyone was looking into our boat, watching us working the lock and taking photos. Their unrelenting stare proved a little too much for me at times (ever the wallflower) and I realised I'd have to get used to it again, sort of like soft winter feet walking bare in the dirt again after months of socks and boots. At least that's what we did in the country!

gothic city

Those who have travelled with us through Camden Lock on a sunny day will know it is known for it's masses of young gothic revellers, loitering around the lock, sitting on it and generally seemingly unaware that it is used for anything other than a meeting spot for other paleskinned, dark haired friends.

On a winter's afternoon it was staggering (no pun intended) to see how many were out and already hitting the bottle. To me it seems such a waste but then maybe I'm just getting old.

Spot the odd one out.

have boat will travel

What to do with a gorgeous sunny Saturday? Invite friends over and take the boat out. At least for a little while ... all too soon our home will no longer be ours.

Today Lindsay and Delilah came over for lunch and we took the boat out for a short jaunt along the canal towards Paddington. Nate loved every moment (well at least the ones he was awake for).

everybody needs good neighbours

sundrenched

Basking in the morning sun. Hard to believe we're not even half way into February yet.


The forecast snow not only didn't arrive but in fact the sun shone most of the day and has done for most of the week. At this rate our deathly pale skin might even get a bit of a glow about it.