Tale guide
We're coming home!
Margate reclaimed (Tidy Towns)
There's no place like home
The journey back to South Africa caused much excitement in our house.
After the trials and tribulations of the Covid pandemic lockdown, coping with eighteen months of almost constant cold and wet conditions that made exploring Wales a little challenging, and the longing for friends and colleagues left behind in sunny Africa two years prior, we decided to fly out on a four-week recce visit to our old stomping ground on the south coast of Kwa-Zulu Natal.
Ann was gung-ho while admittedly, I was a little apprehensive to say the least. Why would we want to return to a country whose government, while presiding over a weak economy and over 50% unemployment, decides a spend ZAR22 million on a flagpole when its resources have been almost entirely depleted by grand theft, corruption and covid! Why would we want to return to potholes, collapsed water systems and an intermittent electricity supply?
As the day of departure approached, news of flight delays and long passenger queues at Manchester airport caused some concerns but we went forth with determination that nothing would deter us in our mission.
As is our practice, we arranged for wheelchair assistance for Ann so that she could avoid the crippling effect of the very long walkways on the airports on the journey. We were met with the wheelchair at the booking in counter and we proceeded through immigration and airport security.
Fast, slick, efficient. Not a queue in sight! I moved through the security search process with ease and was standing off to one side watching Ann being wheeled through the x-ray area when I saw a security officer push the chair to one side and start a conversation with her. Before long the officer crossed over to me.
“Mr Phillips,” she said. “Please don’t be alarmed but we have had to delay your wife for a few moments for our station officer to have a chat with her.”
“What about?” was the obvious question but officer had already turned around and set a course back to the wheelchair.
After a few minutes, said station officer arrived. Young smartly dressed and approachable, the officer pulled up a chair alongside Ann.
“Mrs. Phillips, my name is David. Please do not be alarmed. We are just going to have a short chat before we let you go on your way.”
Ann was mystified and a little confused. She couldn’t for the life of her, work out what airport security wanted of her. The questions were random. Where did she live; what did she do; where was she travelling to and why; how long did she plan to be away. After a while, Ann finally put her apprehension to one side and spoke out.
“What are you actually looking for?” she asked the officer.
“Well, you see,” came the polite reply, “you’ve tested positive for a banned substance on two separate swabs, and we are having some difficulty finding where its hidden.”
Incredulous for a moment before the penny dropped. “I’m wearing a morphine patch prescribed for my pain,” she explained. “Oh, I don’t think it’s that,” said the officer and ordered a third scan to be conducted including one of her handbag, which I happened to be carrying.
We were finally released on our merry way with plenty of apologies for any inconvenience but not before I advised the amused officer that it would be fine by me if he detained Ann while I was away and that I would happily pick her up on my return. I couldn’t control the urge to message my brother that Ann had been arrested for smuggling drugs! Needless to say, I had some explaining to do.
The flights were uneventful and on time and we landed at OR Tambo International, Johannesburg at 16h00 on a sunny and warm highveld winter’s day. It was the warmest day we had experienced since landing in the UK twenty months before.
The reception off the aircraft from the airside airport staff was very warm and welcoming; “Sawubona baba.” It was great to be home!
The next challenge I had to overcome was to enter the country on an expired passport as it had become obvious that getting it renewed overseas was never going to happen. But once again, understanding and support was the order of the day, and I was sent on my way with a ninety-day visa and an instruction to get a new one!
I got to wondering why I was so surprised at our reception.
Once settled in a comfortable hotel for the night, I bought a bottle of wine at the bar and realised how much I had missed the amazing quality of South African wine.
Expecting a long and painful exercise to get my passport renewed, I made my way to a nearby Home Affairs office the following day and joined the queue of people standing in the early morning warmth of the winter sun. At eight o’clock a manager opened up the doors and proceeded along the queue to separate people according to their service requirements. When I told him what I was there for, he took me to the front of the queue together with another old woman because, he explained, we were pensioners and out of respect, would need to be helped as quickly as possible. Twenty minutes later the application was processed and five days later, I received a message on my phone that my passport was ready for collection.
Again, I wondered why I was so amazed. So far, my experience of South Africa had been nothing short of exemplary. Warm, friendly, efficient, and welcoming. In fact, throughout the interactions, we were repeatedly told “you’re most welcome,” in response to our “thank you’ s.” I began to believe that they really meant it.
The next few days were filled with meeting friends and dining out on the intoxicating feelings of kindness and friendship that lights a fire deep in one’s soul. It was so good to be back. And the sunshine each and every day. Well, what can one say?
An early exposure to driving in Johannesburg raised a smile having become accustomed to the careful, disciplined and courteous English driving conditions. We were stopped at a traffic light (robot in SA!), in a right-hand lane with indicator on to turn right. Two cars behind me and three cars in queue on my left. I looked in my rearview mirror to see a typical African Combi taxi bearing down on us from the rear at high speed. I instinctively knew what was about to happen and I called out to Ann “watch this, watch this, here it comes.”
The taxi driver swung out to my right into the face of the oncoming traffic, accelerated passed us and into the intersection against the red light. It swung back onto the lefthand lane and shot off down the road.
“Welcome to South Africa,” I announced, and we burst into laughter at the craziness that is this country!
Tidy Towns - taking back the town
The power of Facebook was never really understood before we moved to the UK and returned on this exploratory holiday. An inordinate number of friends and acquaintances have been following our adventures, and ups and downs throughout Covid and beyond. Staying in touch, sharing a note of comfort and a regular joke all of which became a lifeline to a world sorely missed.
And once we arrived, the reception we received from Johannesburg to the South coast was amazing, overwhelming and humbling. It appeared that everyone had missed us as much as we had missed them! Its not possible to list all the incidents, besides which, it will probably bore you to tears, so I’ve restricted myself to a few selected ones.
What a simply glorious holiday we have had. Sea, sunshine, friends, (not so old) colleagues and family and a certainty that despite all the best efforts of government, roads in disrepair, water shortages, daily load shedding, and some of the worst crime on the planet, South Africa is full of wonderful people who ‘make-a-plan’ and get on with life!
One of the most telling indicators of the South African spirit at the moment is the story of Tidy Towns – Sea Park to Margate! It started a few months back with an old friend, Stephen Herbst taking up the challenge with a string of young business and community leaders and together they started to systematically ‘take back their town!’
They cleared the many beautiful beaches of debris, logs and brushwood washed up by the sea and plastic and rubbish hidden in the bushes by vagrants.
They collected all the vagrants and drug addicts up and introduced a system of managed employment. These teams cut back the wild foliage, clean and paint the pavements and gutters and mow the lawns all along the coastal stretch. The beach showers and ablutions have been cleaned out and local business has stepped up to clear the drains, repair the plumbing, and bring back the paving and parking areas to their former glory.
The work goes on and is snowballing. Businesses and local farmers are providing trucks and front loaders to help carry off the tons of debris.
The police and the local municipality, encouraged by the obvious drive, have joined in to provide the necessary auxiliary resource and services.
When the two big storms that wreaked havoc along the East Coast during the past few weeks nullified much of the work done in cleaning the beaches up, they got stuck back in undeterred, and reset the stage within weeks.
There is still a long way to go and much to be done but the initiative is infectious, spirits have been lifted and more and more people want to join in and enjoy the camaraderie as much as watching their piece of paradise revive.
Finding a forever home
After ten days of an exhausting house hunt, we finally settled on a modern and spacious bungalow, beautifully appointed with a full uninterrupted 180-degree breaker sea view.
It generates its own solar power and has sufficient a water reserve to protect us against municipal interruptions.
It is situated inside one of the most secure estates on the coast and lies a hop, skip, and jump from two local shopping complexes in the village of Shelly Beach.
And I finally have my very own fire pit!
What more would anyone wish for?
South coast winters day
We are going home to where we have enjoyed so many happy years in the past.
We look forward to being part of this unique community once again, to spectacular sun rises, the wonder of the whale migrations and sardine shoals not to mention the multi-coloured bird life and for me, the many days of game fishing on the Aliwal Shoal and surrounding reefs as well as off the beaches along this magnificent stretch of coast and trips with Oom Sakkie and Jono to the trout dams of Matat!
We promise to be careful to avoid the potholes as well as any gatherings of “Our fellow South Africans” regularly summoned by the country’s President.
News items of interest will be confined to those worldly ridiculous and mindless announcements that offer prime fodder for my satirist lean.
There is no place like home!