Tag Archives: lynne wade

Road Trip with Larry

Mom lent us her Cortina. Like this, but OHS:

cortina 1970

We drove to PMB then on to Cape Town in ten days in 1976.

Wherever we found a spot – preferably free – we camped in my little orange pup tent. Weza Forest; Tsitsikamma:

Tsitsikamma campsite internet pics till I find mine

Driving through the Knysna Forest we saw a sign beware of the elephants. So we took the little track that turned off nearby and camped in the undergrowth.

knysna forest

In Cape Town we stayed with Lynne Wade, lovely lass who’d been a Rotary Exchange Student too.

Malmesbury – We visited Oom Boet and Tannie Anna. Oom Boet was on top form, telling jokes and stories and laughing non-stop. That evening he had to milk the cow, so we accompanied him to the shed. Laughing and talking he would rest his forehead against the cow’s flank every now and then and shake with laughter at yet another tale. Meantime, this was not what the cow was used to. It had finished the grain and usually he was finished milking when she had finished eating. So the cow backs out and kicks him off the stool, flat on his back, bucket and milking stool upturned. He takes a kick at the cow, misses and puts his back out. Larry and I are hosing ourselves as we help him up and try and restore order and dignity.

Back at the house we give them a bottle of imported liquer to say thanks. It’s a rather delicious chocolate-tasting liquer and it says haselnuss mit ei. Its only 500ml so we soon flatten it. Something like this, but smaller:

haselnuss liquer

Ja lekker, maar ag dis bokkerol – Ons kan dit self maak Kosie! (We can make this stuff ourselves!)

Ja?

We decide to call his bluff. In the village we buy two slabs of chocolate with nuts. We looked for dark chocolate and hazelnuts, but hey, Malmesbury – we got chocolate with nuts.

Oom Boet is bok for the challenge. He dives under the kitchen sink and starts hauling things out. He’s on his hands and knees and his huge bum protrudes as he yells “Vrou! Waar’s die masjien?” Anna has to step in and find things and do things as he organises. She finds a vintage blender and – acting under a string of unnecessary instructions – she breaks eggs and separates the yolks, breaks chocolate into small pieces. He bliksems it all into the blender and adds a fat dollop of a clear liquid from a label-less bottle. “Witblits, Kosie!” he says triumphantly. He looks and goois more in, then more.

Oom Boet blender_2 like this, but the goo was yellowy-brown

He switches on the blender with a flourish and a fine blend of egg yolk, chocolate and powerful-smelling hooch splatters all over the kitchen ceiling, walls and sink. He hadn’t put the lid on! And it was like a V8 blender, that thing.

Vrou starts afresh, we mop, we add and then it’s ready for tasting at last.

And undrinkable. That aeroplane fuel strength home-distilled liquor was just too violent. We take tiny little sips, but even Oom Boet has to grudgingly admit his is perhaps not quite as good as the imported stuff. We add more chocolate and more egg yolk, but its only slightly better. Ten years later I still had the bottle and it was still three-quarters full!