happy travels

Three days after my last blog post we did leave for our cross country road trip to Mozambique. And contrary to lurking fears that I may have been coercing my husband into doing something that had the potential to be a disastrous waste of time, we had an amazing time and the girls blew me away with their cool adaptation to African travel!

I was determined not to overdo the packing, so we left the farm with the bare essentials: a few surf boards, a tent, sleeping bags, a braai grid and a cooler box. For the girls entertainment I took some books, crayons and a small box of farm animals. And not once did they want for anything else.

They took to the road like seasoned travelers, never whining about the time, ever enthusiastic about the passing scenery and perfectly happy to skip regular meals. One day we pushed it for 11 hours without one disgruntled squeak – they were champs.

It took us a total of 24 hours to reach Ponta de Ouro on the Kosi Bay border of SA and Mozambique. We crossed the border after three days and thank goodness for the 4x4 option on our car as the roads are nothing but pure, thick sand.  

The road from the border 

Finally at our destination and my heart sank when I saw the exposed, unkempt campsite we had planned to stay in. Most African countries, and Mozambique is no exception, lack in the public service department. Of course I should have known better than to expect more. The campsite was not a little piece of paradise overlooking the point break. Instead it was an overgrown, littered piece of ground with moderately usable ablutions. Charles wanted to be close to the waves and I wanted my paradise expectations met. So I turned on the taps - a little emotional manipulation can get you quite far in a foreign country. He agreed to take a look at Ponta Malangane a little further down the coast which a friend had told us about. Here we found the “paradise” campsite under trees, with monkeys, butterflies, squirrels, and mosquitoes ofcourse. We were all relieved.

Holidays can be hard work and I definitely had a few monents of pulling out the emotional reserves to keep it going on the right track. You have to work hard at enjoying yourself and squashing disappointments when the going gets tough and you haven’t eaten a decent meal or showered in days. Remarkably I found my attitude improved vastly once we had lit the braai and were having our first cold Mozambican beer…
The compromise to not being surrounded by litter was the non-stop flow of fishing boats and trailers. But in all fairness the fishermen were very friendly and I think our simple campsite with two small children was quite an enigma to them, who camp with every available apparatus to ease the hardship of outdoor living. One guy even had a machine to electrocute mosquitoes and anything else that came its way!

In a very short time we were fully into the slow mode of Mozambican life. My hair was constantly salty and my feet never clean – it was perfect and I felt almost like I was in my pre-motherhood days of freedom again. The girls were happy, wild and free. They ran around almost bare, swam for hours on end in the warm, warm water and to our delight, learnt to surf. And Charles got to see his girls all day everyday and it was invaluable. 

Anna: up and riding

 Charlotte: up and riding. Dad: proud.

The waves were a little scarce for us. Although we did have one day of really good swell with beautiful, blue, warm perfect, nice sized waves, but it was fleeting. I didn’t mind much as it gave me more reading time while the girls swam. Charles got slightly restless.

The good looking Mozambicans are friendly but wary - which is no wonder after enduring nearly 20 years of war which only came to an official end in 1994. Their lives are hard and it is, like in all of Africa, a daily battle to make money and survive. The cost of living is high in Ponta, probably due to a combination of capitalising on the tourists and the difficulty to get supplies to the area. I was slightly disappointed by the lack of local eateries – homemade African food is my absolute favorite – and the exorbitant amount of bars and alcohol that is available. You could go hungry in Ponta but if it’s a shooter you’re after, never fear as there is a bar in every second shack!

One day Charlotte asked me what the word “bar” and “ice” said, because she kept seeing these words everywhere. I told her and after thinking about this for awhile she said to me: “So Mom, you get a lot of sheep and ice here, hey?” 

 Our first ever fizzy drink - with ice!

The week flew by and soon we were on the road again. We decided to head for the Transkei on the way home. This time we really did find PARADISE - vast, green plains and multiple waterfalls that tumble into the ocean. It is so beautiful and untouched that I won’t mention it by name on the World Wide Web. Sadly we could only spend one night there as the few bungaloes available were booked up. So we headed for The Kraal near Port St John’s, a simple backpackers built in African style with cow dung floors, set atop the green Transkei hills. As soon as we arrived Charles dropped his last remaining work stresses and I saw the relaxed man I had once known emerge.   

 

We surfed, snorkeled and ate seafood until we were tired of it.

 Then a storm hit and at two ‘o clock one morning we had to evacuate our flooded tent by bundling the girls up and running through torrents of rain to shelter. The next morning it was still pouring with rain and everything was soaked. It was my 35^th birthday. We took this as our cue to leave and finally get home.

Returning home was refreshing. Everything was green, the animals are fat and happy and we have a new addition, to the girl’s delight, of eight baby chicks.

Now that we are back into our busy, scheduled lives, I can still feel the strengths of the bonds that the four of us made while we were away. It was a learning and growing curve for all of us. But most importantly, I’ve realised that the twins are really “cool chicks” and the best travel buddies I’ve had.

  



holiday hopes

Before I had children I did a lot of travelling. Working in the film business was great in that way because we would often do "away" shoots, sometimes to really cool places like Moremi in Botswana or the Seychelles. And inbetween filming seasons I would head off to whichever destination tickled my fancy. I had cash and no responsibilities.
But since the girls were born I've had to satiate my wanderlust with the Travel Channel - which actually just depresses me to no end. I console myself with the fact that this is a temporary state of affairs and before we know it the girls will have upped and left for the world, leaving us with no choice but to don our backpacks and head off into the foreign yonder. Or more accurately I will don my backpack, alone, and head off, leaving Charles to his utopia of perfect waves. "We don't need to go anywhere," he says regularly, "We live in paradise. There is no other place in the world with waves like Look Out point." And this from a man who has searched the globe for the perfect wave - perhaps he knows what he is talking about. He can have Look Out point until he is old and completely bald, but I'm not done - there is way too much for me still to see, and it doesn't have to be on the coast!
Last winter I got a serious bout of ants in my pants and decided that the time had come for us to hand over the children to the grannies and take ourselves off for a "well deserved, big trip." Madagascar was our port of call. I spent hours planning and pricing. I even had two travel agents working around the clock to work out the best deal for us. This was it, we were going! Afterall we had barely had any time for fun and travel between reviving our relationship and producing our offspring and hadn't even had a proper honeymoon. The time was perfect, I believed.
But alas, after all my dreaming, planning and organising, boring old Mr Reality stepped in and pointed out that we simply could not afford to blow our entire savings on a two week surf trip to the jungle. Even if we do "deserve" it. Instead, as a consolation prize, we could go for three nights up the freezing cold West Coast, and sleep in the back of our van - no such luxury as a proper bed. After day one we were hit by the biggest storm on the Cape coast in ten years. We returned home early - me, pitifully hungover after drowning my disapointment with a bottle of red wine the night before and Charles, elated at having surfed an epic 20ft swell with his best friend. I guess I was happy for him.
But I've bounced back and am in the middle of holiday planning yet again. This time I won't lead on any unsuspecting travel agents, but will do it myself. And this time, we take the girls. To Mozambique. Which, one should note, has just been hit by a cyclone. But I'm sure all will be over by the time we get there with sunny, happy, perfect peeling waves .
I've just about got this one in the can. I have a housesitter, accommodation lined up for the three day drive, a list of must-haves to keep the girls occupied on the road, our tent packed and my husband's full consent and enthusiasm albeit a slight battle in the date commitment area.
We plan to leave in three days.
I'm playing my cards very carefully.Watch this space.

and the winner is...

The winner for the M.O.M Diary giveaway is Bronwen Troskie from Johannesburg!
Well done Bronwen!

M.O.M diary Give-Away

I've just been given this fantastic diary for moms. Its been specifically designed and thought out to help moms with their busy lives. It truly is awesome and still early enough in the year to enjoy!
To WIN a M.O.M diary answer the easy question below:
Name one of the special features in the M.O.M diary.
To get the answer see their website by clicking on the M.O.M diary logo to the right.
Then click onto their facebook page here https://www.facebook.com/momdiary  and write your answer on their wall. Tip: You must "like" them first to get into the wall.
Dont forget to put "Twins and Chickens - farmlife diaries" before your answer so it can be tracked.
Good Luck!

peace at last

Guilt is an emotion mandatory to the occupation of motherhood.
I have generally leaned towards feelings of guilt quite a lot in my life - probably because I can be selfish at times - but its had nothing on this new unrelenting guilt that comes with being a mother. This guilt seems to have little to do with being selfish and more to do with getting it right.
I think being a mom to twins has doubled the guilt factor. Since they were born I have tried to share and divide my attention and affection between them equally, but in reality it's an impossibility - someone always has to wait their turn and being the same age there is little in the line of reasoning with one or the other.
"There is only one mommy and two little girls." I frequently repeat this as a mantra to my girls - it helps to appease my guilt when I'm impatient towards them. Charlotte seems to undersand this because she once told me she's only having one child and when I questioned her, she said: "Because I only have two hands." Anna who generally seems not to understand what all the fuss in life is about, claims she will have six children - good luck to her!
So from day one of my maternal occupation I have been battling with guilt: have I given enough attention to both of them, why didn't I try listen better to Charlotte's story even though Anna also had to tell me hers at the same time; I could have been nicer about trying to push Anna on the swing and saving Charlotte from crashing off the monkey bars at the same time; why am I not more understanding in the car when they are both talking to me at the same time all the way home from playschool.
I have also felt guilty and doubtful about decisions I have made for them in the past like why didn't I breastfeed longer; I should have kept them home longer before sending them to a creche, I should not have let them ride their pony under a low branch and end up in a dusty heap on the ground.
So when I made the decision to change them to a Waldorf kindergarten after Anna was clearly battling in the busy playground where she was, I was sure that somewhere along the line I would have feelings of guilt and doubt.  In fact I have been waiting for it for almost a month and still nothing...
My children are incredibly happy, adjusted and appear to be thriving. I am elated that I actually, for once, got it simultaneously right! I was sure Charlotte, who loathes change, was going to punish me to no end, but she happily goes off to school excited about the days activities. And Anna, who is the reason we changed, kisses me and runs off to play instead of hysterically clinging to me like a chimp, so that I would have to force her into the hands of the teacher and run to the car with her yells ringing in my ears. Now she can't wait to get there and although she still battles in social situations, which we are hoping a little occupational therapy will sort out, she is happy. And my heart sings because I got it right!
On top of their happiness at school they seem to have done a complete turn around at home. I am not sure if it's been turning four or their new Rudolph Steiner environment, but they play together like best friends and never seem to run out of ideas for new imaginary games.

So for this moment I breathe a guiltless and content sigh while experiencing, what feels like the first time, a normal, peaceful existence with my twins.

food, glorious food

Living in Africa, where the numbers of starving people increase daily, I feel completely guilty at the fact that I HAVE TOO MUCH FOOD!
Like so much in life, its feast or famine here on Ouland Farm and at the moment, still with the memory of last year's drought  in mind, we are producing an abundance of food.
Tomatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes. I am selling, eating, cooking, freezing and handing them out, but they keep on coming! The brinjals, marrows, beans, basil and lettuce have also just got into the swing of things and are multiplying daily.
And as if the hens have got wind of this time of abundance, they too are producing with gleeful abandon.
So, like they say, enjoy it while it lasts, because before long the days will cool down and so will the crops.
After being inspired by Barbara Kingsolver's book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, I envisioned myself toiling away in the kitchen making all sorts of delicious dishes from my assortment of homegrown veg, but thanks to "real life"of motherhood and all that goes with it, all I've managed to do is cook and freeze kilo's of  chopped tomatoes for pasta's and stews - hardly worth writing about....maybe next summer I'll come up with some unique ideas worth publishing in a world best seller.

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braving the storms

The holidays are finally over and I must admit that since my last blog post my attitude and perspective on having two four year olds in the house 7 days a week, for 6 weeks, did change somewhat.
We had a lot of good times and fun times but truth be told I am not the naturally patient text book example of a mommy, by a long shot. And after the novelty of not having to rush in the mornings to get to school on time wore off, I started to snarl and growl a bit. I'm kind of good at giving of my time, but I'm better when I know there is a gap on the horizon where I will be able to do "my own thing" for awhile. However there wasn't much of that to speak of.
I've come to learn, especially since having children, that things come in waves and phases. So bearing this in mind I did my best to ride the various waves, and in some cases, tsunamis, that came my way. We started off in a good  and jolly, "Yay we are on holiday!" phase which soon morphed into "everybody is getting on everybody's nerves" phase. This was the part where the girls fought. A lot. daily. Every 15 minutes.
One child would invariably be screaming from being bashed on the head or some other equally unfair assault and the other would be whining her version of the tale to me. This went on for a large chunk of the holiday. At first I did my best to meet their emotional needs, and when this did little to reduce the conflict, I slipped into "I am a really bad mother and therefore my kids are dysfuctional," phase. After that I became really grumpy and went so far as to threaten Anna that if she did not stop her whining I was going to throw her boiled egg at her. Yes I admit I allowed myself to let go of concious parenting to the full for a brief moment. It wasn't long after that that I dissolved into a phase of weepy surrender. At this point, quite miraculously, they stopped. But it took me a couple of days to realise that something was different. They were playing, happily, and had not fought over anything for a few days. It felt like I had been washed ashore on a tropical beach after braving a night long storm at sea.
Either they realised it was time to cut Mom some slack or they had finally found their groove with each other and decided to, groove.
Ofcourse, Murphy's Law, school began 10 days later, which has lead us into a new phase of challenging learning curves and emotional adjustments. Especially since it is a new school.
I will wait and muster the dregs of my patience and resilience for the next phase of emotional onslaught, which I have no doubt my darling twins will be bringing me soon.