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Category Archives: Our Travels

Mar 01
1
Cape Town skyline at dusk.

5 Months of Perspective

By | Cape Town, Musings, Our Travels | No Comments

Although it took a little more than closing my eyes, tapping the heels of my red shoes together and repeating “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home”, I feel rather like Dorothy returning home after her adventures in the Land of Oz. What an incredible story, but man is it good to be home!! Waking up in sunny South Africa, in our beautiful city that looks even better than it did when we left, makes it hard to believe that what we did for the past 5 months actually happened. The ending to this story could very easily be, ‘and they woke up and it was all a dream’… except for our all-consuming jetlag, lily-white complexions and lack of a house. Yes, our homelessness knows no bounds.

In planning for our trip we decided to rent our house out for 6 months in order to help cover the costs. Obviously our returning early means little to the munchkins living in our home, so until they move on, we have made camp in what can only be described as truly exceptional friends homes. We arrived at Melissa and Austin’s house on Friday morning, and positively exploded. To be clearer, I should say our luggage exploded and we collapsed. Bar the light fittings, we’ve had clothing hanging from almost every available surface. These last few days have looked like someone has begun a laundry service from the Fagan’s normally beautifully ordered home. With the utmost grace and warmth though, we have been absorbed into the home and the now 4 adult 4 child home is pulsing with life at all hours of the day and night, it is wonderful! Chaotic, yes, but after missing our friends like we have, coming back to this is exciting and replenishing.

In fact, since we arrived home on Friday, we have had no lack of excitement. We barely had time to unpack (actually we didn’t at all, we decided to sleep Friday away instead) before heading off to a 35th birthday party on Friday night, where Lincoln and Lola managed to convince their best little friend Owen, to stay awake with them until almost 2am when he passed out, only half an hour before they themselves were herded to the sleeping chambers. Eastern Standard Time seems somewhat tricky to get out of the system!

The following days consisted of beautiful sunny beach visits, 30th birthday’s and lunch’s with dearly missed friends and family, all of which exciting, none of which we were fully awake for. We reserved fully awake status for 2am when we should have been getting our extensively desired beauty rest. One week on however, and we seem to be finding our feet again.

In my sleep-deprived state during our migration from Wyoming… to New York… to London… to Cape Town, I neglected to fully illuminate the motives behind our final demise. After much interrogation from friends and family (and questioning into whether I was pregnant again – I mean really! It’s been almost 4 years since our winning streak and we’ve gleaned a thing or two on how babies are made since then), I thought it best to fill the rest of you in.

To put it simply, we were just tired. Tired of packing, tired of moving, tired of trying to fit in more than is humanly possible into 24 hours, tired of lots more besides, but more important than what we were tired of, is what we were looking forward to! We wanted friends, family, summer, stability, not living out of a suitcase, picnics on our beach, good food, date nights, our bicycles, our own beds, abundant kitchen utensils, homes with gardens, homes with more than one bedroom, homes without neighbours below us!.. a warm sun, South African accents, a currency that’s worth something in its own land, a nation of colour, a nation of diversity, a population that allows their children to run free… we longed for home.

Our arrival back in Cape Town looked rather epic.

Our arrival back in Cape Town looked rather epic.

What we learned in our 5 months in the States, is that the grass isn’t always greener. The grass may be a different shade of green, longer in some places, denser in others, but as with everything in life, there is no ‘one size fits all’ in the world’s diverse network of grasses. While I personally prefer grass that is allowed to grow on it’s own, with guidance and corrections, but ultimately forging its own path, others may enjoy the constant fussing and supervision given to the particular cultivars grown in the States. This was one of my biggest struggles while over there.

I believe I am a good parent, worrying when I should but also giving my children enough rope to explore and enjoy without constantly hovering and shielding them from every possible eventuality. Maintaining the belief that I am a responsible parent was challenged with every trip I made to the shops with the kids, and every walk we took down a sidewalk in a big city. There was always someone there to comment on how dangerous ‘insert chosen activity’ was; hiding under clothing racks in the shops, helping mum choose items off a shelf, jumping in the snow on the sidewalk, scooting down a hill, being further than 3 meters from me at any given time – it was exhausting, but the list was endless. Shop attendants fussed and passersby in the street commented. I can’t imagine what they would have done had they seen our kids climbing mountains or bouldering in the scary outdoors. There is most certainly a balance and obviously children can’t be left to their own devices entirely, but I felt like things were often a bit screwy with American parents, pandering and protecting younger children but letting high school age kids run amok, with teens telling parents when they are going out instead of asking, and fostering a culture of ‘what we want when we want it’ regardless of the consequences. I’m not saying South African teens are exempt from this, but it just feels amplified and mostly condoned there.

I am also certainly not saying this about everyone in or from the States, this is a general feel, more prominent in some areas than others, but what I can say is that when my South African friend introduced me to an American mum who let her 3 year old drink water from a fountain out of another child’s shoe, I immediately warmed to her. So there definitely are parents in the States who parent like I do, but they seem to be few and far between. I often felt judged, criticised, and as a result completely stressed out and on edge when I was out with the kids. I freaked out more, I reprimanded more, and behaved a bit like a Mum I would ordinarily feel sympathy for. This played no small part in our wanting our relaxed and happy Cape Town.

There are most certainly things about the States that we will miss, like not having to glue your handbag to your hip or having at least 7 shop attendants on hand making sure you can find what you need, but as far as we are concerned, good customer service and reduced crime just doesn’t beat a country with as much to offer as ours, despite the incredible things we saw in our 5 months there. Growing up in a third world country, the impressions most of us have about first world countries is hugely inaccurate, we believe there are no problems, that they have it all sorted. We give our country too little credit and always imagine everywhere else to be better. While the crime and poverty are definitely less, they have been replaced with other problems, it seems people are incapable of living without them. Visiting a ‘promised land’ like America offers a perspective on our own that is both inspiring and heartwarming. We have many issues in our country and it certainly isn’t all easy sailing, but no one chooses to live in Africa because it’s easy, you choose to live in Africa because of what it has to offer. To impart some of our newfound perspective, we are truly lucky to be able to call Africa our home. This land is something special, I hope everyone gets a chance to see that.

Interestingly, and absolutely coincidently, I am about to head out for the evening with 3 great girl friends, all of whom are American! I hope I don’t get a beating for my only half glowing account of their beautiful country 🙂

Ps. If you have somehow read this post in isolation, please read all my tales of how incredible American soil is! It truly is amazing. This is a post on how happy we are to be home… we certainly gushed about the States while we were there though! Xxx

Feb 20
1

The Grand Culmination

By | Our Travels | No Comments

After almost 5 months of life, love, growth, fun, homesickness, sucking it up, freedom and adventures in the States…. we have put on our big girl panties, and made the decision to come home (uh.. and the masculine equivalent). That’s right folks, as I type we are spending our last night in the States. This decision came to us with as much spontaneity as it is coming to you, so I apologise for the blunt delivery and absence of frivolity.

It feels, for one of the first times in our lives (bar perhaps buying our house), that we have had to really make an adult decision. We have had to sit back and think about why we did this trip, what we wanted out of it, and whether we got it. Whether carrying on and ‘pushing through’ the last month constituted what it was about, or whether reading our family’s moods and making a decision based on our happiness and coping levels was more important. I won’t lie, it was a tough decision to make. But in Wuth fashion, we didn’t dilly-dally. So here we are.

We have spent our last week in the States in a town called Jackson, in Wyoming. It is quaint and beautiful and covered in snow. We were lucky enough to secure ourselves a gorgeous little log cabin for the week (we were upgraded – people below us complained about the noise our kids made running around our hotel room – what a win!) and we spent our time enjoying watching the snow fall, and soaking up the peaceful atmosphere of the friendly holiday town. We did nothing extreme, except try and eat as many homemade choc-chip cookies as possible, oh, and go skiing in a blizzard, which totally didn’t work! Apart from having ridiculously bad visibility, it was the steepest resort in America and the children didn’t appreciate the camber of the slopes. I didn’t appreciate the camber of the slopes when Shaun came down all nonsensical and complaining of a possible concussion after landing on his head. So we chucked in our now well chucked towel, and called that a day too. What a week of culminations.

It was also a week of new beginnings though. We began an almost 3500km drive from Wyoming to New York, by far the longest straight drive we have ever done, and the clincher… we were being chased by a winter storm. We managed to drive 9 hours and then stop off for the night in Mount Rushmore, but then had to drive 36 hours straight in order to beat the storm to New York. For all our wonderful friends and family in balmy South Africa, a winter storm warning leaves you driving through, if you can imagine it, a -10 degree ball of candy-floss. It’s like beautiful spun sugar swirling around you, kissing the windscreen and bouncing off in all directions, leaving rather drastically reduced visibility and a road that looks like a freshly iced cake. It is most certainly less than ideal as far as safety goes, but rather beautiful if you are out to enjoy the display. Needless to say we hurried ahead, laying our tracks before the approaching tempest. We beat it to New York by about 4 hours. All I can say is how did we get so lucky that we have children who will endure that kind of crazy driving length without stripping a nut?! Blessed Blessed Blessed is the only thing that comes close to describing it!

 

Now while I might have been in New York when I started explaining our current situation, I am now in Heathrow airport, mid way through our return voyage to Cape Town. We had a whirlwind 2 days in New York wrapping up everything, working (in Shaun’s case) and trying to fit 5 months into 4 bags (my wonderful responsibility). It was as easy as it sounds… IMPOSSIBLE!! We have about 7 bags. After dissecting the British Airways memo on ‘baggage allowance’ we managed to create a way to bring it all without having to pay in extra. This was a true feat! Couple that with a truly magnificent example of a woman who checked us in, and we got it, and us, on board, and into our surprisingly upgraded seats in Business Class on time! I wanted to run back and kiss her. We were 4 children grinning in the back row almost the whole way to London! I cannot say enough about the small gestures of kindness that take an almost depleted family to the point of excitement at the end of a long and tiring adventure. These amazing people are out there and will find you just when you think you are at your last. We are exhausted, but happy. It is a strange mix of emotions returning home. It will be interesting to see how the next couple of days pan out… we will keep you posted. Thank you all for following us on our incredible journey. It has been an honour! Love and blessings to you all! Xxx

Feb 13
1
Lake McDonald - Glacier National Park, Montana

What Dreams Are Made Of

By | Our Travels, Parks | No Comments

When we announced that we would be hitting the USA during winter, we were recompensed with more than just a few frowns. Most of our friends laughed.
“Do you realise how cold it gets in North America?” we heard from at least a handful of individuals. Well, yes, in theory we did. Practice however, is something entirely different!

We were rewarded for our winter travels with a -36 degree temperature as we arrived in Montana. This is without a doubt the very coldest we have ever been!  8 hours inland from Seattle and what a vastly different climate awaits you.
What an underrated, beautiful State! I can’t say enough good things about Montana. The people are wonderful, the towns are beautiful and the mountains outstanding, not to mention the incredible skiing and Glacier National Park. There is such a community atmosphere about the small towns, and tourists are welcomed and treated like gold. Chocolate tasting evenings, winter parades and freshly baked cookies are just a small idea of what to expect from these old gems.

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Freezing!

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Watching the winter parade.

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The Whitefish winter parade.

Our intention in this winter wonderland of a State was to go and see Glacier National Park. Unfortunately for us, most of the roads are closed in winter due to avalanches, extreme snowfall and ice. We did manage to see a small section of the Park and it was truly magnificent. The day we ventured out was freezing, and even that sounds warm in its description. The temperature reached a high of -21 degrees. It is a strange thing to be standing in the full sun, but so bitterly cold on any area of your body exposed to the elements, that you get freezer burn simply standing outside. There was a moment I thought my cornea were freezing over and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a complete pansy about it! It’s hard to comprehend what you need to wear to remain outdoors for any length of time at that temperature, suffice it to say we had about 4 pairs of pants on (each!), 4 thermal tops plus jersey plus ski jacket, beanie, balaclava, at least 2 socks, winter boots and gloves. After about 5 minutes Lincoln required being wrapped in a blanket. After about 7 minutes I required being wrapped in a blanket. Lola was too busy eating snow to notice the cold and Shaun was testing the ice on the river to see if a ‘crossing’ was in order. It was decided that we ought to remain safely on land, which we did, although I managed to land on my backside twice in as many minutes just walking down the road.

 

On our second day in Kalispell, Montana… it snowed! Our very first, ever, really real snow. And it snowed, and it snowed, and it snowed. And we went skiing. I must be honest here and say it was not my idea. I would have been happy to sit inside watching the beautiful snowflakes fall, sipping hot chocolate and roasting my feet by the fire. But I married Shaun. It seems my spawn are a little more like their father than I expected in this regard, and I was outvoted 3 to 1. So out we went. Despite the immense cold, there is something incredible about being able to head up the slopes as a family. The kids are so adept now we are able to head straight to the chair lift and cruise up the mountain. I really can’t explain how special, and fun, this is. This is not to say we journey down without incident, there are many cold and cuddly moments with the snow, and yes, tears when it goes in their gloves and on their faces (the kids not Shauns), but it is so much fun and so much more than I expected they would want to do. Given the cold though, we only managed to ski a couple of runs before the kids and I had to head into the lodge to defrost our toes and find some high density calories to warm us up. Shaun, the ski junky, managed another 2 hours before returning all smiles, and giddy with joy.

Me and Linky on the chair lift heading up for our first ski of the day... and then my phone battery died!

Me and Linky on the chair lift heading up for our first ski of the day… and then my phone battery died!

We stayed 3 days more than we had planned in Kalispell, before packing a large portion of snow, along with our suitcases, into our SUV and heading South to Yellowstone National Park. Driving through a winter wonderland is less fun than one would imagine. Beautiful snowy roads become slippery, visibility becomes something of an intermittent treat, and stopping is something the car would prefer not to do if at all possible, not the best way to cover 600 km’s. But we did it, with much concentration, prayer, and thankfully well-behaved children in the back.

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Yellowstone National Park is in much the same condition as Glacier National Park – far too snowy to drive in. So we opted for something better… snowmobiles! Just when we thought we had done almost all there is to do, what an absolutely awesome way to experience a national park!  We signed up for a tour which had everyone on their own snowmobile, replete with 70 layers of clothing and a toasty warm helmet. Shaun and I had one child each, in front of us (buffering us from the wind of course), and off we set to the geysers of Yellowstone. It Was Such Awesome Fun!! We stopped to check out bison, elk and coyote, and had fantastic views of the exploding sulphur pits and geysers. In a land covered entirely by snow, it is incredible to watch steam billowing up from the ground, and pools boiling away with crystal clear water.

 

Being on the bikes was exhilarating and freeing, I caught myself laughing as we threw ourselves over bumps and chased down our fearless liege who thought fit to drive her snowmobile at around 60 miles per hour! Passing through open planes left us with ice-cream headaches as the cold wind that pummels you is enough to cut through balaclavas, beanies and helmets. The seats have warmers and so do the handle bars, but nothing is enough to defrost fingers in those temperatures, and all the seat warmers do is give you swamp butt when you get off them, leaving you with a soggy ass and moist pants. After driving the bikes for most of the day, I decided the handlebars were really more for cosmetic reasons, and to give you the illusion of being in control. A snowmobile is going to go where a snowmobile is going to go and you don’t have a whole lot of say in the matter! What complicates things is when your children fall asleep on the bike and you are left trying to hold their heads up whilst steering a machine that is intent on showing you who is boss. Lola and Lincoln (rather dangerously I might add) passed out from sheer exhaustion to the point where we couldn’t actually wake Lincoln up. There was prodding, calling, wobbling, but all to no avail. Eventually we had people taking pictures of me trying to wake the poor guy up, it proved comic relief for many. What was most amusing was when he fell asleep and flopped his heavy helmeted head over the handlebars, pushing the emergency button to stop the thing, causing the 2 of us to come to a very sudden halt in the middle of the road. It was awfully perplexing until I realised what he was lying on!
Needless to say, there were times we had to drive more carefully given our slumbering cargo, but other than that we had an absolute ball playing in the snow, chasing each other on bikes and generally behaving like children. I can’t rate that kind of silly, frivolous activity highly enough! It is what has kept us sane on our adventure and something we fully intend to carry on doing until we are too old to move… even when the time comes when our children hide from sheer embarrassment! Long may the fun last 🙂 Xxx

Feb 08
1
Shaun with his coffee and doughnut in a vegan coffee shop in Seattle

Coffee, Kindness and Deportation

By | Our Travels | No Comments

The coffee shop to person ration in Portland must be almost 1:1. This was a very welcome find, especially in the middle of winter, in what has most assuredly the most pathetic sun we have ever seen. It was like we hadn’t yet seen a winter sun, until we hit Oregon’s budding barista capital. It was the most insipid sun I had ever seen. Being an African, it made me very sad. But instead of sitting around freezing our nether regions, we headed for one of the many trendy, sparsely furnished, vinyl playing, hipster hangouts, and ordered some of the worlds best coffee, or so their groupies claim. We were sporting no facial hair, no bicycles, no messy-shag cuts, our clothes weren’t thrift store enough and I’d say we looked a darn site too happy and carefree, but we were welcomed anyway.

Portland has a wonderful feel about it, it’s a city, but feels more like a town. There were loads of people on bicycles (even in minus temperatures and in the dark), and everyone seems to be doing things at half pace. This tells you a lot when it comes from a Capetonian (we are known for doing things at half pace too). It is beautiful, but I get the feeling it’s not the place to visit in Winter, there are incredible waterfalls and forests close by, but at those temperatures it made it impossible to enjoy them for any length of time with the kids. Portlands vegan culture is massive, not a surprise given the size of the real-from-the-roots hipster population. Restaurants are slated on review sites like Yelp and TripAdvisor if they claim to be vegan and offer milk, and almost all fresh food is ‘organic certified’. It definitely brings home the difference between first world and third world problems. That said, we were rather surprised at the number of homeless people living in the city. After chatting with a couple of them it was also surprising to find out how well educated some of them were. America seems to be a contradiction in so many ways, it’s been interesting, but sad, to see it first hand.

 

After a few lovely, but short, days in Portland, we scampered on up to Seattle. We were given the warmest welcome by some of our South African friends who moved over last year. It was such a welcome relief to be in a real home again, surrounded by friends, another 3 year old (our kids were ecstatic), and SOUTH AFRICAN ACCENTS!! After being on the road for this long, and feeling homesick and tired, this was the best respite we could have hoped for. Catherine, Marcin and Marek (their 3 year old) welcomed us, looked after us and were hospitable beyond anything we could have asked for. There are some people in this world who just know how to open their arms to others, and I feel like we have been blessed enough on this trip to have been welcomed into more than our fair share of these homes. What a happy place this world would be if everyone got the same warm welcome and encouraging pat on the back that we have received on our adventures. Texas and Washington State will remain favourites of this trip even if only for the hospitality we received (but they have a lot more going for them besides).

The NFL Super Bowl final happened to fall on the weekend that we were in Seattle and the excitement behind this was that Seattle Seahawks were in the final, and won – for the first time ever! We were invited to a real American Super Bowl party, replete with game blaring on the big screen, children rampaging through the house and all the men chatting in the kitchen!! It was great. A wonderful opportunity to meet more fantastic, friendly Americans and be drawn into their happy homes. Half of what makes travelling so awesome are the friendly faces you meet along the way. New places, epic landscapes and exiting cities make for a memorable adventure, but it wouldn’t be complete without the people. We have been blessed in having both.

 

For the week that we were in Seattle, the kids got to socialize again with other children and seeing how shy they were initially, made me wonder if we had just spent 4 months de-socializing them. They quickly got used to throngs of kids though (thank goodness no lasting damage there), and really enjoyed their week of ‘normal life’ as Cath carted me and 3 kids to all of Marek’s weekly activities. What is normal and routine for so many was a breath of fresh air for us, and a little reminder of what is waiting at home. We had a hard time convincing the kids we had to move on, but Canada was waiting, or so we hoped…

Just to set the scene here, we didn’t have time to get our Canadian visas before we left South Africa, so naturally thought in the States it would be easy as pie, and we could just do it here. This was not so. We called, emailed, visited biometric centres and Canadian consulates, all to no avail. After a very frustrating couple of weeks and still coming up with nothing, we decided we would just drive to the border and bat our eyelashes, get the kids to wave and we’d drive on through. So anyone who’s been to Canada is probably laughing already. We packed up our things, waved a ‘final’ goodbye to Cath, Marcin and Marek and set off on our way. After a 2 hour drive to the border, some eyelash batting and not so much waving from the kids (they were asleep), we were basically detained. Apparently the Canadians are rather fussy about who they let through their borders, and we didn’t make the grade. Whether it was simply that we arrived unannounced, or whether my being ‘written up’ for taking a ‘deadly weapon’ into the Canadian Embassy in Portland played a part in this, which it well might have, (for future reference, Leatherman’s with a blade longer than 1 inch are weapons and will get you in big trouble!) or if it was just the grumpy border control agent we were lumped with, but our advice for all our troubles and lack of being able to find out any information, was to drive to Los Angeles and visit the visa office in person. So in this day and age, we were expected to drive 2000km (one way) to see if they can help us. For real!?! So we were escorted back to the US border where thankfully they welcomed us back in, and headed back to Seattle feeling rather glum and defeated. We arrived back at our amazingly hospitable friends to an awaiting dinner and glass of wine. Turns out we were the only ones who thought we stood a chance of crossing without a visa. Everyone else thought we were exceedingly optimistic and a wonderful friend of mine has now coined the phrase, “we pulled a Wuth” and tried anyway. Clearly doing ridiculous things is something we seem to have made a habit of.

We now have an extra 2 weeks in the States and are able to slow our return journey across the north of the country, head down to Colorado and hopefully fit in some more skiing before having to wind our way back to New York. Still so much to do, and only a month left to do it in! It is both exciting and sad to think that we are nearing the end of our trip. We long for home and freely admit that 6 months on the road is hard work, especially with children, whilst maintaining a company. Knowing what this time has meant to us as a family, and what we have learned about each other and ourselves along the way, is something we wont easily forget. At this point in our trip however, the name of the game is perseverance. Thank you to everyone who has showered us with love and support for our journey thus far. We are at the point where we are drawing on all the love we can get. Xxx

Feb 03
1
Silly times with my handsome hubby

A Rare Moment of Clarity

By | Musings, Our Travels | No Comments

Since I was a little girl, I’ve spent hours daydreaming, making plans about what I would do with my life, where I would live, how I would live and who it would be with. Some of you know me as a list girl – that is not a new thing. I have had lists running in my head ever since I can remember.

This evening at dinner, I voiced something to Shaun that solicited only a wry smile and a knowing nod from him. I told him, that over the last few weeks, I had been thinking quite a lot about my life and how it had panned out. The fact that I had done almost nothing the way I had planned to, bar my profession, but that was always hazy so hard to go wrong there. I was going to get married at 26, to a gorgeous dark haired man, preferably Spanish. We were going to have 3, maybe 4 kids. The first was going to be a boy, so he could look after his younger sister, and I was happy to not plan the sexes of the rest. My kids were going to have straight dark hair, and I spent hours toying with how long I would let my son grow his hair before he reached that critical stage where strangers comment on your ‘daughter’ instead of your son. There is a crucial limit there! I was going to have my first child at 28 and space them every 2 years so the gap wasn’t too big or too small…..

I know most of you are starting to see a pattern here. Firstly, Shaun is not Spanish. Not even if I trace his roots waaaay back!… so I knew I was starting to veer off course. Not a train smash right, I could still mother the dark haired kids I’d spent hours daydreaming about.
…And then there was Lola. Girl, blond, curly… Beautiful.

Of my list of plans, I got the ‘… gorgeous’ and ‘… man’ part right, and that’s about it. I married a surfer-blond, long curly haired, hippy man, 2 years before I had on my plan. Had my first child a year before I turned 28. My second the very next year, in the wrong order, and have subsequently waited substantially more than 2 years for the next.

But it has taken me 31 years, travelling many thousands of kilometers from home and being out of my comfort zone, to realise that my plans could never have turned out as wonderfully, or perfectly suited to me, as my life has, and I can stop worrying that I’m 2 years past when I should have had my 3rd baby! It might sound ridiculous, but I am still trying to ‘plan’ even though I’m so useless at it, instead of just enjoying the tiny particulars that make my life mine, and rolling with the changes when I decide to change my mind!

Shaun has never been a ‘plan man’, and my pathetic attempt at making plans has always fitted in really well with his attitude. So all these years of planning when we will do something, and how it will be done, has been something he’s been happy to indulge, because it almost never happens that way. So tonight at dinner when I got the wry smile and knowing nod, I knew he had been waiting a long time for me to grasp this insight, and while this realisation might not look so profound on paper, I feel an overwhelming sense of relaxation about my life. I don’t have to follow the plans I made when I was ten, and if I don’t actually know what my plan is, then that is ok too. It is a liberating feeling to have opened a chapter that hasn’t been written in yet.

Jan 28
1

Be Still My Beating Heart

By | Our Travels, Parks | No Comments

I was in two minds as to whether I wanted to write this post. Sometimes things can resonate on such an intimate level, that you want to keep them secret, hidden away from the rest of the world. That’s how I felt when I arrived at Redwood National Park. I didn’t even have to set a foot on the lush, earthy mulch to know that that was a place I would happily get lost in. A place my soul at once wanted to stake a flag in and reserve as a serene retreat for me, and me alone. Ok, I would take people there, sometimes, but only if their hearts wanted to burst from their chests and break into song, knowing there is possibly no more beautiful place on this earth! I know I have often on our travels, gushed over how beautiful a place is, how incredible the National Parks are, and how they make you feel closer to the ethereal, while at the same time making you feel so tiny and insignificant. While I stand by all I have previously written, no place captured my soul more than this magnificent forest. Firstly, it was green. Not just any old green, but the bright ‘heavens pouring golden light between the thunderclouds after a storm’ kind of green. The foliage looks iridescent and you can smell the earth and the dew and the trees. It was lush and moss covered, and had the most beautiful delicate ferns covering the forest floor. Although forests can often make you feel closed in, the epic height of the trees raised the canopy to an extent that, although surrounded entirely by glorious vegetation, you don’t have that feeling of restriction and limited view. I have always loved Knysna forest for similar reasons… this forest is Knysna on steroids! If I could bring anything back from the States with me, it would be a little corner of the Redwood National Park. It was without a doubt, one of my favourite places of this trip, in fact, any trip.

 

Thinking with hindsight why this National Park was so much more enjoyable than all the others, I would say a large part is due to it being significantly less touristy. It is common knowledge that the tallest tree in the world is in the park, but it is not listed – about the smartest thing the Americans could have done. There is no ‘have to see’ spot. No tarred paths through the trees. No throngs of tourists. There is just incredible forest… and quiet. Plenty of it – when the children weren’t squealing with delight while throwing themselves and their bikes down the nearest forest path that is!

In the time between San Francisco and the Redwoods, we spent 2 days enduring Napa Valley. It is torment sitting in a place almost like the wine lands of home, but not quite as beautiful, and yet about 4 times as expensive! I’m not sure what we were expecting, but this didn’t blow our socks off. It could have been the budget wine tasting, or the winter fields, but I think it had more to do with our being spoilt in Cape Town – with what we have right on our door step. We Capetonians live with our bums in the butter (and our noses in the vineyard). Napa has world-class restaurants and boutique shops but unless you go there with a rather large and lavish cheque book, I’m not sure it’s worth it.

We did a whole lot of bad planning on our way up to the Redwoods, and for the first time on our trip… we ran out of petrol. (Truthfully, it was very nearly our second. In Mexico we almost ran out in the middle of nowhere, so we were thankful it was the US and not there!) We were saved by lovely country folk more than happy to cart us around to the nearest gas station, and what could have been a disaster turned out to be a lovely morning in the country, shooting the breeze with locals and hearing their stories.

 

I have often wondered how boundaries between States were decided on, but after now driving through 23 of them, you can often notice a sudden change in scenery or vegetation. Frequently an accent change goes hand in hand with it. There is no doubt that people are different too. Although we enjoyed California, we found ourselves relieved to be through it. The American belief that they have everything bigger and better, has its headquarters in California. We found people to be a whole lot less friendly, with their heads wedged more firmly up their own backsides. No disrespect (we have some very good friends who are from California). It is a beautiful State, no doubt, but there definitely seems to be a vibe that they are somehow better than everyone else. Of course this could just be their dislike of us Africans sauntering about insulting their drought, while simultaneously lapping up their good weather. While I would dare say that the mid-upper West Coast has been my favourite area in the States thus far, not having at least one hefty hound, and being a straight married couple with 2 children, did not count in our favour.

Obviously, California was not all bad (I hope that’s not the impression I’ve given). We spent just over a month in the State and it certainly has a bit of everything going for it. Redwood National Park, you most certainly stole my heart though. After a hike (bike in the kids case) through the forest, I wished we had hurried through the first part and spent a bit more time here. The kids l.o.v.e.d it! The paths through the forest are perfect for mountainbiking, and Shaun and I found ourselves wishing yet again, that we had bikes with us. Had we known this winter would be so mild and devoid of snow, we would have without a doubt made a plan to cart our bikes around with us too – we have missed them! We can’t believe it’s the end of Jan and we have yet to see snow falling. We have stood in it, played in it, lay in it, skied in it, but still never seen it fall, not more than a few flakes anyway.

A very busy month it has been, and it is clearly taking its toll, a very dear friend said to me the other day that she has never seen me looking so tired. That is saying a lot when I have had 2 children a year apart! So next on the travel agenda is ‘Get more sleep’! So with that, I bid you all farewell, so I can try and sneak in a few hours before tomorrow’s adventure. XOXO

Jan 22
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Our beach day near Golden Gate Bridge

Appreciating the Good, Learning from the Bad

By | Beaches, Musings, Our Travels | No Comments

When the going gets tough, head to somewhere you know you’ll be happy! Or in our case, be lucky enough to have that on the cards anyway! San Francisco… the Cape Town of North America… you could not have showed up on our itinerary at a better time. The Prius driving, dog toting, hipster capital of the world. Wow. I did not expect to come across a city so full of hipsters that even I would be tempted to grow a beard just to fit in. Shaun tried desperately to get his 10 chin hairs to grow but all the Bob Martins in the world could only get those bad boys to grow while simultaneously dipping his chin in fertilizer. He did however have the headphone wearing computer staring look about him as he was buried in work while we were there, a good thing too or we would have gone out to far too many awesome restaurants and only worsened our now distinctly diminishing travel funds. Running out of money (as we always seem to do at the end of January, travelling or not) sucks rather more harshly when you find yourself in Napa Valley. This is not a place for you if you are travelling on a budget. We are doing what we must but it would be a lie to say it is not stressful and downright hard. Why do I mention this depressing tidbit you might ask?.. just so that you know we are not floating along on our 6 month trip on a bed of $100 notes and being fanned with enormous cheques. Shaun and I are already discussing how we will redo this trip when we are grown ups (and taking daily swims in our money like Scrooge McDuck). Mail me if you want tips on how to do America in style, we have some great ideas 🙂

But trying to be the ‘family focused less money driven’ travellers that we are (or lets face it we wouldn’t be doing this trip to begin with), we found ourselves a sunny apartment near Golden Gate park in San Francisco and thoroughly enjoyed the outdoor city vibe that ‘The Bay Area’s’ got going. The city is open, full of parks and beautiful old-school buildings. Obviously, the bridges are something special, and those along with the ‘cable cars’ and other public transport that runs on electric lines is something unique to this city. Riding on the cable car feels like you’re on a roller coaster in the middle of a suburban street – it’s awesome! I was thankful for the automatic car we were driving because doing hill starts on those hills in a manual, would give me some proper wiry grey hairs. There are laws on ‘curbing your wheels’ when you park, totally understandable when you look down the hills, and going to the twistiest street in the world also happened to leave us standing at what felt like the steepest!

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In true Wuth fashion, we decided to undertake the impossible – keeping a 3 and 4 year old happy, quiet, and in their seats for a 2 hour (near black tie) performance of Beethoven’s ‘Mass in C’ by the San Francisco Symphony and Choir. It is comical how badly it went, starting with our seats being next to the orchestra and looked upon by thousands of others. We were virtually on stage for 2 hours. Lincoln wasn’t so keen on the idea. And he was tired. Great combo. The trifecta was that we couldn’t secretly feed them to keep them happy because everyone could see us! Anyway, to cut a long and embarrassing story short, I ended up carrying a very tired, just pre-tears Lincoln out in the middle of the second half and in the middle of one of the soloist’s performances. I wanted to die. We will freely admit that it was ambitious, even for us, but the performance was magnificent!

Lincoln seemed to take a real liking to the floors in San Francisco and made a habit of falling off his bike and or scooter and or flip flops on a regular basis. How he isn’t covered in bruises baffles me. Lola is ‘Driving Miss Daisy’ to Lincolns ‘The Fast and the Furious’. She thinks it’s Sunday, everyday. Strolls are gentle and when we take them biking she often circumnavigates the same lamp post numerous times, looking at all the flowers, testing a grass patch for mud and seeing if her bike will fit between poles. Lincoln is now so fast on his bike that when we head to the park one of us has to be dressed for a run. We sprint next to him for at least half the way and yell at him to move over when there are oncoming pedestrians. It can be very perilous when gaining on a runner who has earphones in, it becomes a game of chance, will they stay on their side of the path or veer in?!.. The time has come for some proper brakes, pedals and potentially a skills lesson or two! I’m afraid teaching him caution is something that has at least thus far, been totally lost on him.
All this is what made our morning hike to Lands End on our last day in San Fran more endearing. There is a rock labyrinth at the point which the kids spied, and made a dash for. You can walk through it in a couple of minutes, but Lola rather quickly lost interest and mozied on out to climb the rock wall next to her. Lincoln walked the whole thing, then walked it backwards, repositioning every stone that was even slightly out of place, leaving a far more beautiful and precise maze than the one he walked into. Shaun and I were swelling with pride watching our special little speed demon, who seemingly races around not noticing a thing, take so much time and effort perfecting a rock path he never broke to begin with. It’s like you unknowingly put your child in a box, and one day they climb right out that box and do something you didn’t think in their character at all. I love those days. Challenging what we think we ‘know’ about someone, about who we think they are. Lola has done it countless times on this trip too. Maybe it’s being so far away from what is ‘normal’ to them, maybe it’s just growing up and who they always were, but it is fascinating to watch them emerging as interesting, deep individuals, sometimes in the way you expected, and sometimes in the most beautifully unexpected ways.

 

I recently read some words of wisdom that I thought really applied to our family at the moment;

‘To love a person is to see all of their magic, and to remind them of it when they have forgotten’.

This journey, as incredible as it has been, has also been rather overwhelming at times. There have been hard days. There have been days where we haven’t all been wonderful people, and there have been times we have needed gentle reminding of who we are and why we are on this journey. Reminding each other of their magic has been more necessary on this adventure than ever before in our relationship. We’ve had to build each other up and bolster confidence. Sometimes we can’t see the wood for the trees, or beyond the obstacle right in front of us, but knowing we’ve got someone there to encourage us has shown a quiet strength and gentleness I’ve never noticed, or needed to see, until now. We have learned a lot about being the confident support for each other, even in the midst of our own fears and anxieties. It is something that arrived quite unexpectedly, and something I am immensely grateful for.

Jan 16
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Standing in front of a Giant Redwood in Sequoia National Park

General Sherman… Sir!

By | Hikes, Our Travels, Parks | No Comments

I’ve always found the thought of saluting someone rather peculiar. It is not something I have ever done, nor something I intended doing. As both my father and Shaun can attest, men pulling rank just doesn’t sit well with me (although to be fair I don’t think Shaun would try). Then I stood before the General. So majestic, so stately, that I almost couldn’t help myself! My meager 31 years did nothing against his near 3 000, I practically felt a curtsy coming on.
Standing in a forest full of trees this size can really put your life in perspective. There is no doubt you see things differently, maybe not forever, but certainly while you are standing there. The world seems different, enchanted and full of magic. I almost expected to see fairies nestling amongst the fallen branches and frogs singing “We All Stand Together” in chorus. It’s like stepping into a different world, one in which we are so tiny and insignificant, nature shows you how resplendent and grandiose it can be when it feels like it.
The whole of Sequoia National Park, from the incredible Giant Forest and Moro Rock, to the heartbreakingly large tree stumps that could make you cry just imagining someone benumbed enough to cut them down, scream with magnificence.

 

Yosemite National Park is no exception. Although lacking the girth and height of Sequoia’s trees, it most certainly leaves you floored with its astonishing natural display. We were lucky enough to hike on both days we were there, we seem to be dragging warm African temperatures around with us, and this meant that the normally snow covered National Parks were little more than mildly icy with sporadic patches of dirty white snow. Screaming in unison with the National Parks, were Lincoln and Lola, although less with magnificence and more with delight. So happy were they to be allowed back on their bikes after 3 weeks in the snow, that anyone within a 2 km radius would have known the kids were on their bikes, and thrilled about it! We naughtily disobeyed ranger rules in favour of our sanity and let the children maraud down the almost empty tar track to one of the waterfalls, where we then took them bouldering up the riverbed to the waterfalls. Shaun loves to climb; I prefer to hop around anything I have to climb. Shaun loves to teach the children to climb; I prefer to rock myself quietly in a corner while he does it. My feet sweat, my heart thumps, and every time one of them stands up straight I yell at them to sit down. It is just better if I follow at a distance, and yes, let Shaun be a Dad. I feel like mothers are not welcome when their paranoia and needless hovering is more likely to get their children hurt than simply not being there. So this allowed me the opportunity to hang back and take some pics, the far less painful option.

The following day’s hike was up a somewhat steeper mountain. Great day, great mountain, not so great Lincoln. He decided this was the day to be grumpy and refuse to walk (ok, he’s only 3 I know, but really, of all days?!) so into the backpack he went. Roughly 6km’s, largely made up of tar path and stairs, alerts you to how America does things differently. If that trail were in South Africa, it would undoubtedly be dirt trail with markers pointing the way. Being in such incredible natural surroundings, yet having to walk on such a man made trail really detracts from the hike. It feels like it would be more authentic if you had to rough if up a little, rather than be constantly reminded of how many people had been there before you. It did lead up to an astonishingly high waterfall and no help would have made this one tough baby to climb, but a bit of natural trail wouldn’t have hurt either. There was Lincoln’s blood (he’s always falling) our sweat and Lola’s tears (she tried to climb the railing and someone other than us grabbed her – she doesn’t take kindly to strangers touching her). It was a great hike but man were we exhausted parents when we got to the bottom.

It was sad we didn’t have time to hike through the Giant Forest too and spend days lost in it’s size and fairy-tale ecosphere, but with time marching swiftly along we had to drag ourselves down possibly the twistiest road known to man, and into the dustbowl know as California.

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The California dustbowl Jan 2014

 

Saying California is in the middle of a drought would be the understatement of the year. We were gob smacked! I had it in my head that it would be green, lush, full of farms and chirping birds, land of milk and honey if you will. Granted it is the middle of winter, but ‘milk and honey’ notions aside, nothing could have prepared us for the barren land that awaited us. There were warnings on TV about the unhealthy air conditions, and as we descended into middle California we understood why.

Hundreds of kilometers of dry, desolate farms, windswept land you can see hadn’t been farmed or used for anything other than walking cattle across in years. Cattle ranches disturbing enough to make me consider becoming a vegetarian – almost, and then plane old nothing – just hills of dust. It was more than a relief to crest the rise that eventually gave way to dry vineyards, and finally the Californian coastline. Shaun and I had bets on as to who would see the sea first, it felt like we had been away from it for months, not weeks, and as we climbed out the car Lola smiled and said; “It smells like home”. It sure did. Man did that bring a tear to my eye. 12 500 km’s later and we were being rewarded with a beautiful reminder of home. It really was special – thank you California. xxx

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Our trip to date. October 2013 – January 2014

 

Jan 12
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Lola and Lincoln on their first skiing trip Jan 2014

Polar Vortex vs. California Drought

By | Our Travels | No Comments

As most of North America was covered in more snow than they knew what to do with, those of us in the South West were left to ski on the last few snow flakes we could scrape into a pile. As Shaun found out, twigs and scruffy bushes on a ski run can be rather hazardous, and definitely don’t make a very soft landing. It was however, more snow than we are used to having in South Africa during December, so good fun all the same! As it turns out, South Africa is in the Southern Hemisphere and experiences the season of Summer over the December period, much to the surprise of the family we rented from. Africa is interestingly enough also made up of Countries, and not States, a strange concept for some oh-so-cool-Californian-folk to grasp. All that aside, we had a very awesome stay in Lake Tahoe!

It wasn’t a complete surprise, but watching a 3 year old learn to ski and a 30 year old learn to ski, is like watching two different sports. The one is performed with joy, excitement and a daredevil sense of speed. The other is performed with fear, shaky legs and wet clothes from constantly falling in the snow. I of course, was not that 30 year old. When I fell, I did it properly and found the only pile of mud at the bottom of the ski run, covering myself in brown sludge instead. It was however a blessing because if I didn’t meet the mud under the bunting at the bottom of the run, I would have had a very close encounter with an SUV in the parking lot a meter in front of me. This was done with all the skill of previously having ski’d of course. My incompetence when I learnt to ski 7 years ago will go unmentioned here.
Shaun on the other hand, dived back in like he’d been at it all his life. Rather annoying. I like to think I’m better at some sports than he is, so I insisted on 3 days of X-country skiing, which worked out fantastically! Turns out Shaun and I go a similar speed (yessss!) and it allowed the kids to get the feel of moving around on ski’s before sticking them at the top of a hill!  They took to it surprisingly quickly and we had a blast skiing through the beautiful forests around Lake Tahoe (before it all turned to sludge and ice).

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Then it was time to get the kids on ski’s… up a hill. Aside from the cost of hiring ski equipment and buying ski passes, there is the cost of lessons. For anyone who hasn’t done it, it is extortion! So after one too many shots of our Mexican tequila, we watched some online tutorials, and decided to teach them ourselves. They made it so easy for us (thank goodness). By the time we left they were skiing (with confidence) down the same slopes I was, they may have been in ‘snow-plough’ position and not parallel skiing, but they loved it, and their desire to do the bigger runs with Daddy blew my mind (you would understand this if you knew the Lola who left South Africa with us).
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Much to my surprise, we all managed to leave in tact, with only minor injuries. The kids most painful accidents were slipping on the ice as they hopped in and out the jacuzzi fetching ‘ice biscuits’ to eat while sitting in the hot water. Shaun left his ski’s half way up the slope a few times while he filled his jacket with snow and cuddled some bushes, but other than that was left no lasting memories. I on the other hand was given quite a beating. Not by the bushes, not by the slopes, not by my ski’s, but by the staircase I was doing some stretching on. Yes, my own stupidity I know. But it does still feel like the staircase opened a can of whip-ass on my shins. So other than a very mild side of pain, our skiing was very successful, despite the snow drought and pleasant temperatures the Sierra mountain range is experiencing.

 

It is sad that we had to leave all that behind us, but more because we had to face the reality of work again, and juggling our epic travels with something as tedious as earning money. Way to go real life.
But with a new year under our belts and some ideas on how to not let it get the better of us, we are diving into the second half of our travels with renewed energy and an appreciation of all we have back home. Man we miss Cape Town, and braai’s, and Woolies, and duvets, and real closets, and friends, and reasonably priced delicious wine, and and and …. !

Jan 07
1

Our ‘American-Style’ Christmas for One

By | Our Travels | No Comments

Ok, so one family, but still. When you’ve grown up as one of 6 kids and celebrated Christmas with no less than double that number, Christmas for 4 just feels mighty small. That said, it had to be done at some point. It’s not that I’m not used to playing Father Christmas, or preparing the big meal, it’s just that I’ve always grown up with the mentality – ‘the more the merrier’. My mother never turned anyone away for any meal, let alone Christmas. She made a concerted effort to invite anyone she thought might be alone, over for Christmas eve dinner or lunch, and somehow always made sure there was enough, no matter how short the notice was. There was always at least 1 of my 4 brothers picking food out the kitchen while a meal was being prepared (of which Shaun has now joined the ranks), and the delicious smells emanating out the kitchen in the build up to Christmas could make the most discerning food critic’s mouth water. We used to make cookies to hang on the tree, bake Christmas cakes, puddings and mince pies, and my favourite, ice the Christmas cake with the sweetest, whitest, most delicious icing I can remember!

Being just the 4 of us this year, it would have been a waste to over cater, and quite frankly, we can’t afford to waste right now, earning rands and spending dollars is physically painful. So we decided to only make what all of us would eat. The menu:
NO… turkey (too dry), NO brussel sprouts (too revolting), NO peas (Lola wont touch them unless they frozen), NO butternut (Lola won’t touch them full stop), NO salad (Shaun thinks it’s a useless excuse for food), NO ham (couldn’t find a normal size, only American sizing!), NO pumpkin pie (Shaun doesn’t approve of vegetables in his desert), NO Christmas pudding OR cake (fruit in cake is just not on!), NO mince pies (couldn’t find them anywhere)…
What we did manage was a super delicious roast chicken with roast potatoes, about 17 heads of broccoli (between Shaun and the kids I can’t seem to find enough in the store), cauliflower, honey carrots, and home-made chocolate brownies, with Ben & Jerry’s ice-cream for desert. Not a bad combination of foods for a Christmas lunch actually, and we tried our best to be American and over eat… which we did rather well too.

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The only thing missing in our ‘wintery wonderland’ Christmas… was snow! We came half way around the world, found a cabin in the mountains, and waited in anticipation for those first dazzling snow flakes to fall. Instead, unseasonably warm weather was hovering around the Sierra Nevada mountains, making our ‘white Christmas’ rather warmer and more colourful than we had expected. It was a win in that we didn’t freeze when we ventured out doors, but sad to not wake up to a snow covered land on Christmas morning. Being fairly high up in the mountains there was plenty of snow to be found up the road, just not on our doorstep, so our Christmas’y photo shoot happened in the snow park up the road, instead of our backyard.

 

After spending most of Christmas eve and Christmas morning on Skype chatting to friends and family (I should have called this a ‘Very Skype-y Christmas’) we weren’t left all that much time to feel lonely, I thank God everyday for who-ever invented Skype! I thought I was going to spend most of the day wishing we were in SA and pining for our family, but spending the day just the 4 of us, walking in the forest and playing around the house felt normal, and lovely. It wasn’t the big festive, crazy group with noise (ok the children did actually supply a good level of that), or witty banter with loved ones, but it was calm and sweet, and a chance for us to decide exactly how we wanted to spend our Christmas, make our own traditions and choose our own path. It was a good experience, despite my fears leading up to the season. That said, there is no replacement for wonderful friends and family around the table at Christmas time. We missed you all, each and every one of you.

As lovely as a quiet Christmas was, I can’t wait to have a big, noisy, raucous, sensory-overload style Christmas with as many friends and family as we can squeeze into one place! I guess no matter how many times I swear after another crazy Christmas, that we will be calm and keep it simple the next time round, I am always pulled back to ‘the more the merrier’. You couldn’t have set a better example for me growing up Mum, thank you! Here’s to Christmas 2014 – back to the crazy!! 🙂