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OUR TRAVELS

Adventures outside our borders
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.