In Cape Town - A Familia Adventure

Mar 20

Cape Town Carnival 2015 - Somerset road

Cape Town Carnival 2015

By Mary | Cape Town, Events | No Comments

The 2015 Cape Town Carnival exploded into the packed city streets in a flurry of feathers and swirling, glittering, streamers. Not only were the woman wearing little but crop tops and hoop dresses, but the men kept pace in loin cloths and headdresses too. Even the firemen did their bit by arriving in rather a hurry as they only manage to get half dressed. All this in support of the Elemental theme for this years Carnival, celebrating fire, water, earth and air.

We decided to attend this years Carnival as we have run out of excuses not to. We went expecting a half baked show with floats resembling those out of our varsity days, made in a stupor of alcohol and sleep deprivation, but boy were we wrong.

We stood face to face with life size elephants complete with elegantly moving parts, larger than life swimming fish and protea’s with dancing girls inside. Throngs of skateboarders cruised down Summerset road while a bevy of belly-dancers jangled along after them. Beautiful woman adorned with tails of feathers, others with skirts of ivy and choreographed dancers kept rigorously in check by well-camouflaged marshals, entertained us for over 2 hours.

The flourescent jellyfish were Lincoln and Lola's favourite.

Lola and Lincoln along with the other children sitting in prime spot.

Between legs and barricades. Great view point however!

Our kids were in heaven. With their disregard for anything regarding safety, we stuck them directly behind the railing in a sort of ‘caved out’ area from which they could not escape, be nabbed, or get into any serious trouble. With our bases covered we were able to stand back and enjoy the show from our tippy-toes as we peered over other onlookers shoulders, while our children sat in comfort, snacking on pre-packed treats and being entertained with hand shakes, high fives and fist pumps from dancers and musicians on their way past. If I was able to squeeze myself into the hollowed out area behind the railing without getting my head squashed between the bars and my rear kicked by countless onlookers, I would have wedged myself in there with them – they really had a prime spot.

The show was delightful and the atmosphere filled with all the ‘gees’ we South Africans have come to expect from our local entertainment. It was vibey and bustling and filled with Capetonian tang. There were plenty of food trucks lining the fan-walk providing everything from Columbian cuisine to soft-serve, and the restaurants lining the road were humming with excitement. All in all, this is a real Mardigra in the making, with a large dollop of South African flavour.

Would I do this again? Absolutely. Probably not every year as I believe they reused some of the floats from last year. But I think it would be fun to do with just grown ups too so we can join in the street party afterwards instead of racing to get the kids home. It’s a great party vibe.

What to be aware of? A lot of people, especially those with children, made a mad dash for the exit points after the parade. We needed to carry our children to keep their heads above the crowd. Either hang back and wait for the masses to leave, or make sure you can carry your kids if you intend on leaving in a hurry. Although it is possible to take a pram, I wouldn’t recommend it, you will find it difficult to negotiate the crowds and the pram will prove cumbersome. Consider taking a baby pouch or child carrier for young kids.

Mar 04

It Needs to Burn, But It’s Still Unbearable to Watch

By Mary | Cape Town, Musings | No Comments

The Raging Inferno, formerly know as the Southern Cape. Day 4. The fire has consumed those of us living in its ever-present shadow. I struggle to think of much else. The degree of destruction is beginning to feel like natural disasters we hear about in the rest of the world but rarely experience in our beautiful country. We are no longer exempt. Close on 5000 hectares of Cape Fynbos has now burned. It is devastating.

The fact that no one has been seriously injured shows the incredible people we have managing this fire and looking after the communities that are being circled in flames. The tragedy lies in the houses that have burned to the ground, the destruction of our neatly tarred roads, the ‘humanisation’ of this beautiful, natural environment. The heartache however, lies in the devastation to the animal and plant kingdom, the thousands of traumatised and lifeless animals engulfed in smoke and flames. I have felt overwhelmed on numerous occasions in the last few days when looking at my surroundings and seeing the extent of the damage. I think a large part of that came from the realisation that this is possible. That from a tiny flame can come so much destruction. It’s almost unbelievable. If I am honest though, a lot of that sadness comes from the knowledge that my countryside isn’t as beautiful as it is expected to be, as it ordinarily is.With parents who are avid nature lovers, I grew up in the knowledge that fynbos is a plant type that thrives after fire. The Cape Floral Kingdom is a uniquely adapted environment, which actually needs burning. The burning is a purification of the plants and a redistribution of nutrients to the soil. Seeds and bulbs lying long dormant in the ground are given sunlight and room to grow while larger bushes are prevented from taking over and growing too abundantly in an area. This is the reality of the incredible vegetation that surrounds us. What we are witnessing is a ‘resetting’ of the biome. All this knowledge doesn’t make the destruction any less severe however.

In an interesting conversation last night with a friend, we were discussing the obliteration of our landscape. I was sharing the weight of what I felt was a huge knock to Cape Town. She shared what she thought was a cleansing and a rebirth not only to the vegetation, but people’s spirits too. This fire, she said, may not be what we as people want to see, but it is what the vegetation needs. As difficult as it is to admit, our pain in what we are witnessing may be substantially more selfish than we would like to admit. We as a civilisation have positioned ourselves slap-bang in the middle of an area, which evolved over millennia, around the need to ignite, not regularly, but every 10 – 15 years. This is however, far more often than we would like. Part of the reason so many of us live here is because of the beauty, how could it not sadden us to look around and see a post-apocalyptic wasteland in front of us, we would not be human if we did not feel some sadness at the loss. And I think that’s precisely what was meant by cleansing people’s spirits. A large portion of the Cape Town population has rallied around the fire fighters, pilots and rescue crews. There has been more support shown for these brave men and women than I think I have ever witnessed in our country. We have looked, as a people, beyond our own selves and seen a greater need. There is nothing more cleansing to the soul than that. It has breathed new life into us all.

It is impossible to ignore the heartache the natural world has experienced, nor should we try. What I am suggesting is that we look at this ‘tragedy’ with fresh eyes. Eyes that can see forward to the new growth of plants, to bulbs already stirring under the soil from the heat and smoke from the flames, getting ready to sprout flowers not that different in colour to the flames themselves. The rebirth of vegetation along with new life currently burrowed under the soil, will stir our hearts when we see it. Our mountain may not be much to behold right now, but in time, it will be what it once was. Let’s look forward with anticipation to those first precious buds pushing through the burnt crust of earth.

My hope is that along with the beauty of our floral kingdom, will come a beauty of the human spirit, a burst of new life into the community in ways we have not done before. Let’s keep looking beyond ourselves, there are Fire Lillies among us.

For further reading on fynbos’ need for fire, see Out of the ashes: Notes on the March 2015 Cape Town Wildfire.

Mar 02

Human Spirit vs Natural Disaster?

By Mary | Cape Town, Musings | No Comments

As I sit and write, our mountain burns. It burns a blaze that has been going for over 48 hours. It has been fanned by winds over 60km’s an hour while brave men and women simultaneously beat the flames, pitting the strength of nature against the strength of human spirit and tenacity. We don’t yet have a winner. The fire continues to burn at an astonishing rate, leaving the area of devastation at around 3000ha and counting, almost all of which is protected National Park. Five houses, one of Cape Town’s most prestigious hotels and now Tokai forest, burn.

As someone living in the heat of the devastation I have been overcome by the community around me. Not always a group that supports each other, Hout Bay is often chastised for its stark contrast in class and living conditions. There is community violence, xenophobia and theft. People don’t always put their best foot forward. Yet throw something as terrifying as a fire into the mix and you have the ‘Hout Bay hustle’, the uniting of the people. Something I am proud to bare witness to.There was a plea put out this morning to help the fire fighters with food and water. A simple plea, it didn’t ask for much. In amidst my morning I thought, I wonder how many people will read this and assume everyone else will do it? How often do we all sit back and assume someone else will step forward? I venture to say most of us, all of the time. So I pulled myself away from my desk, got in my car and headed down to Hout Bay Neighbourhood Watch headquarters, to see how I could assist.I was blown away, not by the blustery wind as thankfully that had stopped, but by what I found there. A lovely old man was standing by, guiding people to deposit their contributions in trolleys already laden with goods; bottles of water, energy drinks and crates of fruit. Fresh croissants, homemade sandwiches and cartons of eye drops for the poor fire fighters smoke filled eyes. He told me they had already moved 20 trolley loads of groceries to where it was needed on the mountain, and it was only just midday. I was overcome with gratitude. Gratitude for my fellow countrymen who jump when they are needed and pledge what they can to help in the immense task of saving their land and their homes, of helping the brave fire fighting men and women in a task that can only be described as painfully hot and back breaking work. More people than I could ever have hoped for answered a cry for help, it sparked a love for my community and my countrymen such that I haven’t experienced in quite some time. I know it wasn’t only me that felt this outpouring of love today. I heard it spoken of in the shops, saw it on countless social media posts and saw evidence of the appreciation at Neighbourhood Watch Headquarters. Hout Bay I salute you, as I salute the brave men and woman fighting on the mountain tonight. The fire might have wrecked devastation, but it cannot beat down the human spirit.

Jun 26

A beautiful, green, Lions Head - Cape Town.

1 Mountain, 1 Toddler, 3 Pre-schoolers and a Pregnant Lady

By Mary | Cape Town, Hikes | One Comment

You haven’t seen Cape Town in all its glory until you have climbed to the top of Lions Head. Making the trek up this beautiful peak is inspirational, you wind your way around the mountaintop and in doing so are afforded 360 degree views of Cape Town city, the surrounding mountains, not least of which is Table Mountain and the Stellenbosch peaks, as well as incredible views of Cape Towns beaches, Robben Island and the Atlantic ocean.

This is a climb we have made many times both before kids and after them. Pre kids, we used to climb to the top and then race each other down, before heading to one of the city’s quirky coffee spots for a little breakfast. After kids, we made the modification of adding a child carrier to one adult and a ‘cango pouch’ to the other, as well as a bag with diapers, wipes, bottles, sippy cups, fruit bars and lollipops (for when they have reached their limit). As time has passed we have managed to lose both child-transportation devices in lieu of throwing them onto our backs when they get tired, and replaced innumerable toddler ‘essentials’ with a handful of protein bars and a sports drink or two. Climbing mountains has got considerably easier.

Climbing Lions Head pre children.

Climbing Lions Head with liiiiiiittle children.

Climbing Lions Head with slightly more capable children.

Caution!! Rock climbing training in progress! Nerves of steal required to view this picture.

After a long period of training our children to hike with proficiency, we launched into an exciting adventure of heading up the mountain with, as the title suggests, not just our little family of four, but some extended family as well. My brother, his almost six months pregnant wife and their two boys (aged twenty-three months and three years old). We dug out the child carrier, filled a bag with all the toddler ‘essentials’ and grabbed the protein bars and sports drinks. Off we set.

Mikey (my three year old nephew) last climbed a mountain as a four week old embryo inside his mother’s tummy, that was the last time we coaxed my wonderful big brother and his sweet unsuspecting wife up Table Mountain. It must have done a great job in laying the foundations for great future climbing for Mikey, as he set off up Lions Head with sheer determination. Every step was calculated and the thought and energy that went into keeping his consistent pace was impressive. Every offer of a ‘lift’ from either his uncle or his aunt was politely declined. Danny (my almost two year old nephew) walked approximately 20 meters before he was hoisted into his carrier and strapped to my brother’s back where he remained, safely, for the duration of the hike.

It has taken many years of hiking and climbing with our kids to teach them where to put their feet, what rocks to hold, what rocks not to hold and where to stand when they are waiting for us. Climbing up ladders and rungs drilled into the rock requires agility on the side of the parents (you have to climb with them but not use the appropriate holds and foot rests because they are), as well as nerves of steel. Five years in and I still haven’t developed the steeliness needed to prevent clammy toes and moist palms. My poor sister in law didn’t know what she was getting herself into! I’m sure she watched in more than horror as we guided her little three year old up the sheer rock face and out of her sight as she awaited her turn up the steely rungs of terror. Negotiating a six month pregnant belly up those rocks was a feat in itself and she put many a passer-by to shame as they huffed and puffed their way up, only to notice her belly and the pack of children and realise how easy they had it.

As all three children reached the top, on their own, followed protectively by their hovering parents, the sun began to set. Anyone with an inkling of the effort it takes to get a troop this large just to the beginning of the hike, knows that we weren’t about to can the idea just because we left an hour after we were planning on setting out. This rather annoying deviation in time pushed us into the beautiful ‘sunset window’ at the top, but also into the rather perilous position of descending in the dark. Not first prize for a hiking party with more people needing to be carried than there were backs to carry them, but down we had to come. Opting for the less hazardous, slightly longer route down, left only one child lying on their back after trying to race ahead of his older sister (yes, Lincoln), but the rest of us set a steady pace climbing down the rocks and Shaun and I set about managing, carrying and herding the three children.

Shepherding three pre-schoolers up the side of a mountain is intensive stuff, getting them down involves dogged determination, and muscles, lots of them. This was the first time we found ourselves outnumbered and out of time. There is no fast decent when moving in the dark, especially when you intend to get everyone down in one piece. Carrying a child on your back and holding another child’s hand utilises muscles I’m not sure I knew existed until the morning after our hike. Think of it as a continual bicep curl with your arm behind your back. Hoorah!! – Navy Seals here we come!
Night time or no night time, I’m not sure I would recommend this hike if you intend taking your children up, unless you and your partner are relatively fit. Your children don’t have to be, as long as you turn around before they reach their limit, or you can carry them down. We would have been in rather a pickle if we weren’t able to carry the kids down, and the hike certainly wouldn’t have been as enjoyable. The best advice I can give is know your limits.

That said, children have an amazing resilience and an ability often far beyond what we credit them with. Mikey, having never climbed before, was able to summit the top, entirely on his own, and he never once, not even on the way down, complained about his legs, the length of the hike or how dark it was. Our children are used to this craziness, but seeing how easily other children adapt when thrown in the deep end is inspiring, it makes me want to grab other parents by the collar and tell them to do more with their kids. Don’t be reckless, but get out into the wilderness and push yourselves to see more, experience more, climb a peak you’ve never summited and show your children how to enjoy the outdoors! It’s beautiful, it’s free, and it’s freeing. Go and breath some fresh air as a family, it’s never too late to start, and I can assure you – you won’t regret it.

Mar 01

Cape Town skyline at dusk.

5 Months of Perspective

By Mary | 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.

What jet-lag looks like at 2.30am ... and then 2.30pm!

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.

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