Making an Impact

Today we are in Paris, or rather, Parys.

Parys is a small town within the Vredefort Dome. Not, as I thought, a huge stadium, but the valley of the biggest impact crater in the world. Carl studied the Vredefort impact crater for his undergrad thesis, meticulously mapping the whole area and making 3D models. Carl is supposed to have had his name immortalised in the Vredefort museum as he had donated some stuff to it, but sadly the museum project appeared to have run out of funding and hadn't actually opened yet. So Miranda couldn't see her Daddy's claim to fame unfortunately!

It is difficult to tell that we were standing in an inverted 'dome' though. The area is so huge, you can barely see the edges of the impact structure. The small hills in the distance are the first ring, with others behind it forming geological ripples rolling out from the crater. We did find the tiny Parys museum, run by a very enterprising woman who knew very little about the area's geology but wanted to learn and took down as much info as she could from Carl. The museum had everything from Voortrekker costumes and potjiekos pots, to a very early contraption that made stockings, to bits of shattercone rocks from the impact. Who knows, if we come back, there may be Carl's maps on display next time!
The rest of Parys was a friendly little town, with for some reason, more than it's fair share of antique shops! I found a good coffee shop which did a 'Jozi Blend' of African coffees, and Miranda got foam off my cappuccino all round her mouth. I also finally got to try 'bunny chow' which I have been searching for since we got here. It is a spicy lamb stew with veg, but bizarrely, served up inside a hollowed out loaf of bread! Guess what? Miri liked that too - the bread at least.
By a stroke of luck, we found an absolutely brilliant place to stay. We had a bit of trouble because a place we'd looked up on what passes for mobile internet here couldn't take reservations over the phone and we had to email. We then couldn't find it, and asked in the Parys tourist office, who advised us not to stay there anyway but wouldn't say why! Instead, we took a chance and rocked up at a place called Rietpoort cottage. It was perfect! Beautifully decorated and we got the whole cottage to ourselves, but it could sleep up to seven. It was on a working farm, and in the morning we were greeted by a herd of friendly cows and the four farm dogs that accompanied us everywhere - Miranda was completely fascinated!
The weather has been gorgeous, so sunny that Miri woke up at 5.30am and refused to admit it wasn't morning since the sun was streaming into her room. We went for a hike around the rest of the farm grounds that afternoon and it was wonderful just seeing the view and appreciating the sheer amount of space there. I got my feet eaten alive by huge red ants, and I bravely carried Miri around in the sling, covered in kiddy factor 50 suncream and with her daft sun hat falling over her eyes every few minutes. She started whining every time we stopped for a rest: "keep going mum! Come on! Faster!", but by the time we got back to the cottage, she'd nodded off!
That evening, Carl did an excellent braai outside the cottage, watched by the dogs hoping for bits of wors (sausage). Miranda eventually fell asleep again watching the fire after demanding some of the potato salad. The perfect end to an amazing trip!

Johannesburg

Methinks South African grandad is rather fond of Miranda. We are back in Johannesburg staying with Les and Alana for a few days, and they are both doting on her -according to Alana she is the "best baby in Joburg" and Les is taking photos of her every few minutes on his phone. Even the dogs seem to like her! She has had an exciting few days as well. We were so hot and tired when we arrived from Nelspruit that we went for a swim in Alana's pool. Again, this was far too cold for the poor scrap and she yelled, and could only be appeased with the promise of a hot bath later on. Miranda REALLY likes baths. She sploshes about and even swims if it's deep enough, it is indescribably cute! I think she is enjoying this trip, there is so much for her to take in that I worry she is going to be bored when we get home and back to what passes as our routine!
We took her down to Hartebeespoort dam yesterday because there are loads of craft stalls down there and a touristy market. We needed to find a giant wooden giraffe for the Other Grandparents, obviously. Miri was utterly in awe of the craft market - so many colours and strange sights and sounds, and icecream to try and people admiring her. We bought her a mobile made out of banana leaves and Alana treated her to a little pink babygrow with a lovely cute zebra on it.

She has also been eating more strange things. It was Les's birthday on Friday and we took him out for a meal at The Meat Company (what a surprise!). Miri loved it, lots of bright lights, and she tried creamed spinach, mashed potato, the creamy garlic sauce off my (delicious) steak, and a naughty bit of my amarula coffee. You can only wash enormous steaks down with one thing in this country - very good pinotage wine. Miranda's eyes were fixed on everything we ate and drank, she even drooled at Carl's 500g T-bone. She saw Alana's wine glass, and that was it, she WANTED it. Fortunately she hasn't yet got the coordination to actually drink from it, but she did chew the edge of the glass, dribbling happily. It's kind of sad in a way; I love the way she copies us, but she gets frustrated when her hands don't do what she wants them too, and I feel so sorry for her! Alana came to the rescue and took her for a walk around the mall, in a thinly disguised attempt to show her off to some friends she met on route. By the time she came back, Miranda had crashed out asleep on her shoulder.
Les and Alana are thinking of moving back to the UK, specifically Alana's native Newcastle (yep, small world!). Whereas that would be lovely to have them so much closer, I think they might be in for a bit of a shock. One of the most striking things about Joburg is the vast differences between rich and poor here (a division on racial lines as well as economic!). Alana does not like this photo:

this is the view that greets you driving into Joburg from Nelspruit. It is infact the Alexandra township, not an area average Joburgers really want to show off as typical of their city. There are far worse areas too. We went over to see Lindsay, Gerhard and the kids again, and got lost, even with the Satnav. When we saw the turn off to Tembisa, another township, we realised we'd gone too far. Lets just say it was fairly obvious Lindsay didn't live out there.

In stark contrast, we met up with Clive, another old school friend of Carl's, and his new husband Frank at a veryveryvery posh shopping mall to have "brunch". Brunch involved a lot of guacamole for Miranda, quesedillas for us (which they insist on pronouncing "kwes-ed-dill-ers", not "kessed-eeyas") and lots of promises to keep in touch with her new Gay Uncles. It was lovely to see them, but I was half hoping Miri would do another Pootrastophe to help lower the tone in that place! Very posh, very exclusive, expensive and crying out for a good nappy filling session.
Unfortunately, but not unsurprisingly, the crime rate in Johannesburg is shockingly high, and so to maintain shopping centres like this place, or Alana's beautiful and large house, you need a ridiculous amount of security measures. Alana's house has automatic sliding gates with spikes on them, and an "armed response" burglar alarm. Even Lindsay's house had a similar sliding gate topped with razor wire. Their neighbour has a huge rottweiler and a sign on the gate saying "trespassers will be eaten". The whole effect is to make it feel as if they are all living in their own self-made prisons! I find it quite depressing actually, although I can understand why it is necessary - Les and Alana survived a horrific armed robbery recently. If they do come back to Britain, at least they won't have that to deal with. But then again, if they come back, they are not going to be 'rich' anymore, even in Newcastle. I have caught myself thinking it would be lovely fo Miranda to grow up out here; if not Joburg, then maybe somewhere like Nelspruit or Hazyview. It is lovely, if it weren't for the crime rate. Or the snakes.

Full of beans!

I found coffee!! Or rather, a lovely lady called Veronica found me coffee. Carl went to school with Veronica about twenty years ago, and through the wondrous medium that is Facebook, they were able to get back in touch. Veronica is now married and has a son called Joshua and an adopted daughter called Thembi. They live about an hour away from Karen and co in Hazyview, so we toddled off up there to introduce Miranda. I get the impression Carl quite likes showing off his beautiful little daughter!

Veronica had got in touch previously about Sabie Valley Coffee Farm - obviously one look at my Facebook page told her that I am a coffee geek. So far I have been starved of good coffee since I've been here! I had a few at a chain coffee shop called Mug and Bean, which were fairly decent (though on quantity not necessarily quality, I got a "bottomless" cup and drank three while I had the chance!). Karen is convinced it is bad for you and won't drink it, but that could be because she only buys "Frisco" - instant soluable "coffee" with chicory in it. I have braved it on occasion this week just because I am feeling caffeine deficient, but I really wish I hadn't. Yuk. Vile creation.
So, I was really surprised to hear about Sabie Valley, I had no idea South Africa produced any coffee at all! Turns out, they produce a whopping 50 tons a year, if they are lucky. The owner, Tim, didn't say if his was the only coffee farm in the country, but did say that many had given up farming the stuff during the early 90s price crash. Sabie Valley only survived by starting to roast the coffee and open the farm as a tourist attraction. Tim told the same story that I've heard all over the world: that there is no money in growing coffee, all the profit is in roasting and import/export.

The 8 hectares of Sabie coffee are all arabica, and harvesting here takes place between March and May, so of course we missed it, but I did get to show Miranda some baby coffee trees and she tried the strangely sweet fruit. I did try and explain my waste project, and found that, interestingly, they do not use the fruit as fertilizer, as they've found it just attracts too many pests. In all the excitement, I forgot to ask what happened to the water used for washing the coffee. The Sabie river runs through the bottom of the farm, and Veronica had packed us a picnic to have by the river bank. We had all gone swimming in the river too, and Miranda taught us a new word: "gur-yarhur", meaning "It's cooooold!" Poor baby! The water was clean and clear, and I couldn't see any obvious signs of coffee farm run-off, but Veronica warned us not to swallow the water for fear of 'belhalzier' disease. I neither know what that is nor how you spell it but it does not sound fun!

We had gone swimming because it was stinkingly hot, over 30 degrees. Although the roasting room smelled amazing, it proved too hot for poor Miri and Veronica took her outside to play with Thembi. Tim does his own "bushveld" roast, somewhere between medium and dark roast. Of course I had to try it all, and it was good, very earthy and nutty like most of the African coffees I've tried. Carl's favourite. I think I preferred the dark roast though, it had more flavour. I was talking so much as ever, that I never got round to trying the espresso. Doh. Nevertheless, we washed it down with huge slabs of chocolate cake, which Miranda enjoyed a great deal.
I came away having met a new friend in Veronica,  another coffee-geek, 4 bags of beans, slight sunburn, and a very sleepy daughterling. A brilliant day. We even saw a barn owl when we got back to Karen's too!

New Experiences

Yesterday we saw hippos! Shaun took us down to the river ('Crocodile River') that runs through the farm, and there were 17 hippos in a big family group, splopping about in the water and occasionally surfacing to bask in the sun. Magnificently ugly beasts. They definitely knew we were there, and kept eyeballing us from a respectful distance, but were otherwise unbothered. Miranda glowered at them for a while and then decided she wanted feeding. Milk is still far more interesting! This is why I am taking thousands of photos and writing these blog posts - sadly Miri won't remember any of these experiences. It may well be a good thing; the other morning we nearly ran over a huge black mumba snake lying in the road and it reared up at the car!! Freaked me out totally but fortunately Miri remained completely oblivious.

One new experience she is getting to try though is solid food, specifically, South African solid(ish) food. Karen seems to think, at four months, I shouldn't be breastfeeding as much as I do and we should be weaning her. I have noticed that Miranda takes an interest in what we are eating and everything she grabs goes straight in her mouth anyway. And she needs to cut this first tooth that is growing on something, I guess. I think my milk maybe tasting slightly different too: the South African diet is basically meat, meat, more meat, a bit more meat for extras and a portion of meat on the side. All red meat, too though Shaun graciously allowed some chicken (well marinated, of course) on the most recent braai. We are not giving Miranda any meat besides braai-flavoured milk, but we are giving her little bits of our food to try. She liked bits of potato and mayonnaise from potato salad, tiny pieces of tomato, baked beans, banana and yellow rice from when I tried babotie (a Cape Malay dish of a sort of spiced meatloaf with raisins in, topped with an egg custard and served with yellow rice and plaintain - odd but delish!). Of course I know these things aren't good for her, but we gave her such tiny amounts it couldn't do any harm. She seemed VERY keen though!

In the cause of being sensible and healthy, we bought her some 'Purity' first baby foods, as recommended by Lindsay, a vegetable one and a fruit one, and bravely tried to feed her with her favourite green rubber spoon. At first, she was more interested in the spoon and tried to chew it, meaning the orange goo just went straight down her front. But little by little, the vegetable one disappeared over three feeds. The fruit one was not a success, but she still ate a bit of fresh banana too.
Karen took us to the nut factory, where they process all the locally grown nuts and some fruits. The factory shop sells huge bags of the things very cheaply, so we stocked up. I got a big bag of dried fruit - apricots, apple slices, peach halves etc to try Miranda with. A few pieces of apple disappeared and then she got very very attached to a slice of peach, just sucking on it and producing copious amounts of orange drool. We wandered round this little place with lots of craft shops and a winery, and I bought her a handmade cuddly warthog. We sat down to have some lunch and the floodgates suddenly opened. Too much dried fruit and vegetable goo on a little stomach adapted to a milk-only diet does not produce pretty results!! Two explosive, brown lumpy nappies in quick succession... Ew ew ewww. Worse, the apple appeared to have gone straight through her, whole and undigested. Sign enough, we think, that maybe poor baby isn't quite ready for solid foods. However, the look of pride and satisfaction on her face after filling those nappies was priceless!