Fresh Water, Salt Water, No Water, Floods!

Homepage: Willmore Adventures in South Africa

Snorkeling in the beautiful freshwater lakes of Kosi Bay, exploring South Africa’s eastern coastline with the thundering Indian Ocean, experiencing the decay of infrastructure which often leaves many without water, and South Africa suffering the worst floods in decades. All this during a visit from my mum who we had not seen for 2 ½ years. The extremes of beauty and destruction, the celebration and the frustration of living on this southern tip of Africa. Welcome to another instalment of our Willmore Adventures!

Seeing my mum for the first time in 2 1/2 years!

If given the choice between electricity and water, every South African will tell you that, whilst both are vital for 21^st century living, water is by far the most frustrating to live without. You can’t wash, drink, flush a toilet, clean…the list goes on… So, when a pipe bursts and the municipality water is turned off, irritation levels are high. Combine it with a bout of no electricity – no traffic lights, no fridge or freezer, no lights, no computer, no Netflix – and South Africans are on the war path! Decaying infrastructure is a daily burden. So, when my mum came to visit us for the first time in 2 ½ years, the simple task of washing bed sheets became a 2-day affair. After hearing the washing machine beep angrily to let me know that the water had been turned off, I rolled my eyes and turned to the taps in the utility room to wash the laundry liquid off my hands. After turning the tap on and being reminded for the second time in a minute that the water had indeed been turned off, I marched into the kitchen feeling a little flustered. To calm my British nerves, I decided that I needed a cup of tea. To the sink in the kitchen I went, shaking my head. I thrust the kettle under the tap and turned it on… and I think we all know what happened next… NOTHING! Nothing is what happened next. Other than the fact that I cursed myself loudly for being so stupid. 3 times in one minute I was reminded that we had no water. It had finally sunk in, I made myself a cup of tea from the emergency bottled water in the cupboard and sat down to gather my thoughts. It’s amazing how we work on autopilot for so many daily tasks. Watching Laurence walk into the kitchen, grab a glass from the cupboard and try and fill it up at the sink was the only redeeming moment in the whole situation. It’s always funny when it happens to someone else.

Elowen and the emergency cupboard water in action!

Two days later, the pipes were finally fixed, and I was at last able to wash the bed sheets. A bird left a present on them in the garden whilst they were drying so it wasn’t plain sailing after that but at least we had water!

The days that followed our water deprivation were a disaster on a much grander scale…

Just as my mum arrived, South Africa had its worst weather in decades. It rained so much that the east of the country around Durban experienced severe flooding and landslides. Homes, health care centres and schools were washed away, and shipping containers were seen floating down the motorway. 443 people died and 40,000 were displaced. The Government announced a national state of disaster and blamed global warming for the flooding, the locals blamed poor infrastructure citing blocked drains as one of the problems. Either way, it had caused absolute devastation. So, it was no water followed by floods in South Africa this April.

The devastation in Durban
 caused by the Autumn floods.

Despite the bad weather, we headed east with my mum, to a pre-booked holiday at Kosi Bay, on the coast just south of the Mozambique border.

Jo'burg to Kosi Bay, on the coast
just south of the Mozambique border.

It is another of South Africa’s gems, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, where there is a network of freshwater lakes called the iSimangaliso Wetlands that lead into the Indian Ocean. It is home to some crocodiles and hippos along with some pretty fish and some pretty tasty fish.

Kosi Bay's tidal
fresh water lake system.

Being tidal, it has led to a unique way of fishing for the locals and the lakes are littered with wooden fish traps. Most of the lakes are shallow meaning that if you don’t have a boat, you can just walk across, and if the school boat is out of action, the local children will wade across to get to school. They would just have to check where the hippos were hanging out that day to avoid an unwanted confrontation. Hippos can hold their breath for 6 minutes and run along the bed of a lake at 20 kilometres an hour, so it would be foolish to think that a human could in any way outwit one. Thankfully the locals are adept at avoiding the hippo population and there has only been 1 human death in the last 20 years. Humanity and nature living in harmony. None of these facts made me feel safe and relaxed, however, when we were given the opportunity to snorkel in the lakes during a boat ride with one of the locals. One eye on the beautiful fish and one eye on the darker water where I was convinced a hippo or a croc would make a beeline for the silly foreigner. Thankfully the hippos and crocs were otherwise engaged that day and we were left to explore the beautiful waters of Kosi Bay without interruption.

The shallow lakes' fish traps

Amelie, Joel and my mum sitting at the front of the boat.

Amelie and Laurence snorkeling/just landed on Earth... 

Like the local Kosi Bay people, we also had to wade across the estuary of the lakes to get to the beach. Tip toeing between the eels and the lionfish, we made it across, and spent a second beautiful day by the Indian Ocean.

Mum and me overlooking the lakes
on our way down to the beach.

The estuary that we had to cross to get to
the beach with the Indian Ocean beyond.

Sending Laurence across first!

The weather turned once again though and we were back to thunderstorms and torrential rain. So much so that we decided to go home early. Elowen and my mum had fallen ill with what we later found out was covid, and a tent wasn’t the best place to be. Our trip back wasn’t a smooth ride either as we lost a wheel to a pothole highlighting once again the decaying infrastructure and the added challenges that come from living in South Africa. We arrived home safely though, after a pretty gruelling 12 hours on the road, and celebrated that my mum had survived her 2 weeks with us in South Africa.

The wheel we lost to a pothole!

Saying goodbye to my mum at OR Tambo airport.

It was a crazy few weeks, but despite our own dramas without water, with Covid, camping in a storm and losing a wheel to a pothole, we were fortunate not to be involved in the devastating floods that hit South Africa this Autumn. And we were really lucky to experience the beauty and uniqueness of Kosi Bay. Fresh water, salt water, no water, floods! Dramatic and memorable as always.

Happy Platinum Jubilee Celebrations to all the Brits this weekend, especially to the Queen!

Lots of love,

Jess x

Next Post: Let Loose!

Previous Post: Easter with Shepherd and the Eggs of Limpopo

A few extra pics...

Happy Birthday Laurence,
in a tent in a storm...

Amelie playing mixed rugby, bear foot
(the African way)

Elowen turned 10!

Easter with Shepherd and the Eggs of Limpopo

Home Page: Willmore Adventures in South Africa

Hello Everyone and welcome to another instalment of our family adventures in South Africa. With Easter fast approaching it seems only fitting to delve back into the world of Shepherd our gardener and to visit his chicken farm in the rural province of Limpopo. An expansion of the farm to include a coup of egg laying chickens has been this year’s success story. So, it’s eggs at Easter here for Shepherd and his young family. 

Let us refresh ourselves on Shepherd’s story, discover more about his family and the common problems that face South Africans, and follow them on this eggtraordinary adventure. 

Shepherd

We first met Shepherd back in 2018 when we moved out to South Africa from the UK. He was the gardener of our rental property, and we got to know him over lunch every week as we learnt about South Africa through his stories growing up in this beautiful land. Shepherd’s wife, Rebecca, passed away in 2019 after a very brief battle with cancer leaving behind five children, two of whom were still at school. It was a really difficult time for him and for his children who were now left to live on their own in their rural homeland of Limpopo whilst Shepherd continued to work in the city of Johannesburg. Shortly after, Laurence and I discovered that Shepherd and Rebecca had had a dream to run a chicken farm, which due to financial reasons had never come to fruition. So, with a desire to see Shepherd’s family recover from the tragedy of Rebecca’s death, and to see him rise out of poverty and realise his dream, we hatched a plan which resulted in the creation of ‘Shepherd and Rebecca’s Chicken Farm’ back in January 2020. It was such an exciting time, and it was also a step closer to Shepherd being able to return home and retire with a sustainable income. 

The first ever batch of meat chickens on
Shepherd and Rebecca's Chicken Farm back in 2020

After a year of Shepherd’s family running the farm on their property in Limpopo, it became apparent that a second form of income would be needed. A batch of chickens had all fallen ill and died, leaving the family without an income for that month. Shepherd decided that he needed to broaden his horizons so that he wasn’t completely reliant on chickens for their meat. Eggs was the solution, and so Christmas 2020 saw Shepherd and his family build a coup for some egg laying chickens. Phase 2 of the farm was complete, and we just needed to wait for the chickens. It wasn’t until a whole year later when Shepherd was home for Christmas in 2021, that he had the time to rear 30 chicks and establish the egg laying side of the business. As January 2022 started and Shepherd once again returned to Jo’burg for his work as a gardener, we waited with anticipation to hear if the egg layers were a laying… The end of January and the first few weeks of February passed, and still there was no news of eggs from Limpopo. The cost of feeding the chickens was eating into the only bit of money Shepherd had, and that was meant to pay for food for his family in Limpopo and himself in Jo’burg. We researched ways to improve the environment for the chickens, and Shepherd had boxes added for the chickens to lay eggs in, and branches in the coup for perching. Shepherd then decided that the chickens would need more food in order to have the energy to lay, so with a final outlay of money to buy more feed, we waited again for the prized eggs. Towards the end of February, Shepherd was rewarded with his efforts…the chickens started to lay, he finally had eggs! It took a few weeks before the chickens were laying like clockwork, and food was increased yet again as they started to eat their own eggs, but as of the end of March 2022, the chickens were laying enough eggs to cover their own feed, and even some extra for profit. 

The arrival of the egg laying chickens, Christmas 2021

Eggs, eggs, eggs!

We are so happy for Shepherd and his family with what they have achieved over the last few years. Our weekly lunches continue three and a half years on from when we first met, and our understanding and appreciation of Shepherd’s life deepens every time. Here is a little insight into the family he holds so dear… 

Shepherd with his mom, Muofhe, who at 83 still
sleeps on the floor every night without a mattress. 

Phindulo (Pretty) , the first born at 29
and a teacher in Limpopo

Pfarelo, the second born who looks after
the family and manages the meat chickens
with the third born, Thabelo (Kingsley).

Shepherd and the two youngest boys, Mutikedzi and
Rikundele during the initial build back in 2020. 

Shepherd, like many South Africans, has suffered immeasurable loss in his life. As a child he lost his twin brother to something that was no doubt curable, and as an adult, he lost his older brother, Ayhashoni, to a vengeful poisoning at work, and who died in his arms. He also lost his younger brother, Tshimangadzo, who just disappeared one day. Someone disappearing is apparently quite common out here, as body parts are requested and used by witch doctors to make medicine known as ‘muthi’. The country is so vast and the practice so widespread that the police haven't the means to investigate. As a result of these significant events in his life, Shepherd tries to protect and support his family in any way that he can. Phase 1 of the chicken farm with the meat chickens gave his older children, Phindulo and Thabelo, a job and a purpose when unemployment is so high in South Africa, and Phase 2 with the egg laying chickens has given his nephew, Humbulani, who is disabled and unable to find work, a job and a purpose too. Humbulani, sells the eggs from Shepherd’s home, and if he has any left over at the end of the week, boils them and takes them down to the local football ground to sell as snacks to the supporters. Retirement for Shepherd moves ever closer and ever more possible as he nears 60. We hope when it comes, it will be an exciting and not a stressful time for him.

Shepherd's nephew, Humbulani.

For the Willmore Family, these past few months have been extremely busy. School and school trips for the children (Amelie is currently surfing with her class mates in Durban), and work and more work for the adults. I have said goodbye to my volunteering with the French organisation, Creche Gabrielle, that I worked at once a week for a year. I will now start back up at The Riversands Primary School in the township of Diepsloot where I taught before Covid and which has finally returned to full time education 2 years after the start of the pandemic. Shepherd has also been helping me in our veggie patch at home providing me with the tools to become more sustainable in our own lives too.  

The Willmore's just before Amelie left
on her week long school trip,
and Amelie surfing the Durban waves...

Saying goodbye to the little ones at Creche Gabrielle

Photobombing a final imaginary tea party!

Posing with Shepherd in amongst
 the maize in our veggie patch. 

So, it's eggs in Limpopo that we are celebrating this Easter, and Shepherd's step closer to a sustainable way of life for him and his family. Thanks so much everyone for reading the blog and for all your support. I hope you are all safe and well. 

And let us keep all the people of Ukraine in our hearts at this time. 

Lots of love, Jess xxx

Previous post: Saving Lives and Saving Face!

Next post: Fresh Water, Salt Water, No Water, Floods!

Related posts: Shepherd's Dream of Chickens, Life in the Bush-veld with the Cows and the Crocs

Some extra pics from the last few months...

Friday treat at the Bryanston Garden Centre

Mardi Gras style parade at the French school.
Joel is dressed up as 'love'.

Elowen as a cheetah.

Amelie as a last minute monkey.

Saving Lives and Saving Face!

Home Page: Willmore Adventures in South Africa

Drama at sea has shaped our summer holidays here in South Africa. From Port Elizabeth to Coffee Bay, we’ve tested the waves and tested our knowledge. Here is a peak into this summer’s Willmore Adventure.

Online school in French, preparing for Christmas, recovering from Covid, and questioning my sanity…the lead up to Christmas was somewhat hectic to say the least. So, when they arrived, we celebrated the holidays with great relief. We enjoyed a Christmas day in Jo’burg with Laurence’s mom’s family, complete with a summer’s Christmas day swim. Usually everyone politely refuses my mulled wine in high summer, but this year the weather was mild enough for it to be a hit! And then shortly after Christmas, as with the rest of Johannesburg, we set off for the coast, our destination being Port Elizabeth to visit Laurence’s stepmom, Bev.

Christmas Day swim!

Christmas celebrations at our house,
complete with mulled wine.

I spoke in my last post about all the regional African languages that South Africa has, and as a result it’s rich cultural history. Whilst the colonialists were quite good at replacing it with their own, native African history is now making its rightful return. Port Elizabeth, named as such in 1820 after a Governor’s wife, in 2021 became Gqeberha, which is the name of a river in the Eastern Cape Province where PE is located and home to the Xhosa people. It’s a mouthful for even the most experienced Xhosa speaker, with the G followed by a click, but it’s a great opportunity for people to learn something of the history of the area. So, we were in fact headed to Gqeberha for our holiday.

A map of South Africa where you can see
Port Elizabeth, now Gqeberha, in the Eastern Cape.

On one sunny and slightly windy day, whilst standing at the sea’s edge and wondering if I was going to get in after counting to three or simply just going to return to my towel, the lifeguards rather dramatically sprinted past me complete with yellow surfboard and red 'David Hasselhoff' float. Everyone naturally went very quiet and watched as they paddled out to what we later realised was a non-swimmer who had been swept out of her depth. I naturally went to count my family members, seeing that the girls were together jumping shallow waves and Joel was throwing a ball to a dog. It was only when I started to look for Laurence that I realised he was in the thick of the action and had been the first to respond to the lady in distress. He kept her afloat until the lifeguards reached them, after which, like a superhero, he emerged from the water back to the shore. I felt so proud of him that I wanted to tell everyone on the beach that he was my husband! Well done Laurence for being so perceptive and quick to react! It is rather ironic however, that, 24 hours earlier, the opposite could be said of Laurence about his wife. Said wife, aka me, was frolicking in the waves and enjoying a good body surf, when a particularly strong wave caught her off guard. The strength of said wave caused a rather unfortunate underwater wardrobe malfunction otherwise known as, ‘bikini bottoms lost at sea’! And whilst Laurence came to her rescue and the bikini bottoms were restored to their rightful place, I’m not sure that when she emerged from the water that day, he saw a superhero in her, nor do I think he wanted to tell everyone that she was his wife! But we were able to laugh about it all the same. Well done Jessica for maintaining a sense of humour!

A visual of David Hasselhoff complete with
'Baywatch' red float and yellow surf board, ha!

The girls surfing the waves at Sardinia Bay,
where all the drama unfolded...

Races on the Sardinia Bay sand dunes.

New Year's Eve celebrations
sitting outside in the summer heat.

After a wonderful week in Gqeberha, we travelled up the east coast to a remote area called Coffee Bay on the Wild Coast. Named after washed up cargo of coffee that promptly grew along the coastline, it is the last village in the Xhosa territory before the Mthatha River and Pondoland beyond. We spent 2 days kayaking and exploring with a guide, Mzo, who told us about Coffee Bay and the folklore and fairytales of the local culture. One particular tale was that of the sea people who live underwater, ready to snatch an unsuspecting child who would dare to show them their knees under the water. It was a story to instill fear of the sea in a young child growing up on the shores of Coffee Bay so that they wouldn’t go in too far without an adult. He also explained that the ‘wild’ in Wild Coast was a reference to the sea and not the land, which I had previously assumed, and that the ship carrying coffee wrecked at sea was no one off accident but, in fact, a common occurrence.

Laurence, Amelie and Elowen
looking down over Coffee Bay.

An evening view from Coffee Bay.

Joel and I kayaking in the mangroves
on the Mthatha River.

Laurence and Amelie at the
mouth of the Mthatha River.

Another site at Coffee Bay of 'The Hole in the Wall',
another place filled with fairytales and folklore.

 So, with the help of Mzo and the local folklore at Coffee Bay, coupled with our experiences at sea the week before in the wild waters of Gqeberha, we certainly learnt our lesson to be extra careful in the sea off the Wild Coast. And, if in the future anyone dares visit those shores and dares to dip a toe in those waters, I can say with absolute certainty that the sea people will be lurking, ready to take their next victim. I can also say with absolute certainty that it would be prudent to take a one-piece swimming costume!

The heroics of Laurence and my unfortunate ‘Bikinigate’ drama will certainly go down in Willmore Folklore as we continue our adventures in South Africa in 2022. I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and a peaceful New Year. We can’t wait for our visit home this July! The countdown is on!

Lots of love,

Jess x  

Next post: Easter with Shepherd and the Eggs of Limpopo

Previous post: For the Love of Language...Sawubona, Bonjour, Hello!  

For the Love of Language… Sawubona, Bonjour, Hello!

Home Page: Willmore Adventures in South Africa

Sawubona Everyone! Or, ‘Hello’, to the non-Zulu speakers amongst us (at least me). With 11 official languages, and Zulu being the most widely spoken, South Africa is a babel of sounds and clicks. Most people here can understand at least 2 of the languages, like Laurence; and if you’re like our gardener, Shephard, you can speak 6 of them! As with all languages, they are regional, and they come with their own cultures and traditions. It’s amazing to hear them all being spoken, but thankfully for me, in the big cities, most people speak English.

Despite the convenience of being an anglophone and everyone using English for my benefit, I’ve enjoyed hearing people’s conversations switch with ease from one language to another, and it has made me want to join the multilingual party. So, shortly after we arrived in 2018, I set out on my journey to learn a new language. It would seem logical that I would choose one of the 11, given the opportunity to speak them, but instead of starting afresh, I stayed firmly within my ‘secondary school second language’ comfort zone and started learning French. After 3 years of Duolingo, podcasts, online courses, Netflix, and French conversation classes, my grasp of French has finally expanded beyond that of, ‘Du Pain, Du Vin et Du Boursin’, and ‘La vache qui rit’. I have also infiltrated the French speaking expat community who have very graciously allowed an anglophone to join their ranks.

It is with a French group, that I have started volunteering at Creche Gabrielle, a French funded community space in the semi-rural area of Vlakfontein, south of Johannesburg (Vlakfontein meaning shallow spring in Afrikaans). The local language is Sotho and the children who range in ages from 1 to 6, have very little English, so communication is quite hard. On site there are offices and preschool classrooms in shipping containers, a kitchen, and a big veggie patch. The facility has been invaluable during Covid, providing children of all ages with food when schools have been closed. We have arrived at the gates this year to see queues of children with a bowl and spoon waiting for a meal; needless to say, the area is very poor. At the creche, we are set to work by Sylvie, and spend our morning with the pre-schoolers. If there is a pretend tea party to be had, or an English song to be sung, then my talents at both drinking tea and speaking English come to the fore and are used to the full! The children are incredibly well behaved, and we try our best to have some fun with them. As well as conversation being difficult, so too is simply remembering the children’s names. They can be incredibly long and have sounds next to one another that seem impossible to say; Tsholofelo, Kgalalelo and Kgothatso to name a few… In the past, under Apartheid, black South Africans were required to have an English name. To my surprise, our gardener Shephard and cleaner Margaret go by different names when they return to their homelands with their families in the holidays. The law thankfully no longer exists, and therefore it is extra important to remember people’s names. So, if I’m found singing Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ on a Wednesday morning, it’s because I’m wanting to speak to little Kgalalelo! Whilst enjoying my time with the children at the creche and the challenge that that brings, I also enjoy the car journeys there and back as I get to speak French with my fellow volunteers, and the challenge that that brings too.

Creche Gabrielle, Vlakfontein

Shipping container kitchen and wriggly tin building

The kitchen

Me with one of the little ones.

Toddlers and photo organisation, like trying to herd cats...

Hard at work

Speaking French has in fact become such a big part of our lives that, in September, we decided to move the children to the International French School in Johannesburg – a perk of living in a big city! It is the first time that Joel has been in a formal school setting, and it has taken a lot of blood, sweat, and tears (and medication), to get to this point, so we are thrilled! And after 3 months, he can often be heard correcting our French pronunciation around the house. The culture, we are learning, is as important as the language, and we have thrown ourselves headfirst in to both. Amelie currently has mountain bike lessons in her timetable, with Monday mornings being a ‘Tour de Johannesburg’, and Elowen is excited by ping pong at school. It’s been a great first term and an interesting francophone experience so far.

The French International School,
with the French and the South African Flag

For the midterm break in October, we flew down to Cape Town to spend some time at the beach with Laurence’s sisters Ash and Gina, and brother-in-law Phil. As always, it was incredible. We hung out with the penguins, swam near where ‘My Octopus Teacher’ was filmed, caught up with friends, and even managed to do a bit of ‘trick or treating’ in the sun, followed by a Halloween braai. The perfect way to start the summer in this topsy turvy part of the world.

At Llandudno Beach

Joel the Clifton Beach Mermaid

Boulders Beach with the Penguins

Boulders Beach

More penguins...

Always a sand castle

With Ash, Phil and Gina

The girls playing in the water at Blouburgstrand,
with Table Mountain in the background

Trick or Treating in Harfield Village

We met the invisible man...

Followed by a braai with the Cloetes.

So, it’s been a fun few months in our new French community, at the school and at the creche; and it was an awesome break at the coast in Cape Town too. Having just recovered from Covid, and now watching it surge around the world again, I hope everyone stays safe over Christmas and is able to celebrate with friends and family.

Sala kahle, Au revoir, Goodbye. (Stay safe, Until we see each other again, Goodbye).

Lots of love, Jess x

Next post: Saving Lives and Saving Face!

Previous post: From Beetroot to Bushmen

A braai at home with the cousins,
Adam, Tannith and crew.

Amelie turns 11!

Papachinos to celebrate.

Birthday night out with
Granny and Uncle Gavin

Birthday party with the Crawford Crew

Last day at Crawford for Elowen

Last day for Amelie

The beautiful Jacaranda Trees in Spring

Pizza delivery in hospital for
Elowen with a broken arm

Joel turns 7!

Christmas at Creche Gabrielle

Father Christmas visited the children...