A Tumbleweed dancing in the light of the moon.

2016-01-21

A Tumbleweed dancing in the light of the moon.

Dear friends and other interesting creatures,

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It was cold the day I arrived at Tumbleweed Cottage in McGregor. A crisp kind of cold where you don’t shiver, but you would not say no to a mug of the coffee from Strictly Coffee in Robertson which I had become accustomed to while visiting these little patches of vibrantly alive dorpies.

Besides, I had discovered a true gentleman with a winning smile in the owner, Hanno Schwartz. I rate a feeling of belonging highly on my scale of returning. My head always thinking too much, with a heart born from sentimentality, which my also be the death of me.

All this, while indulging in their delicious, banting friendly breakfast and cappuccinos. I admit, I did not expect these little towns to know about banting and was pleasantly delighted when in conversation I realized they didn’t just think “low carb”, they had done their homework. I watched as Hanno checked each plate as it left his kitchen. Winner, right there.

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Tumbleweed Cottage looked like my white picket fence would have, had I ever had one. The kind where the look is a feeling, and in reality had nothing to do with fences dressed in white.

The front door had a trick to opening it. Once inside, I dumped my signature purple luggage, breathed in and exhaled a smile. It was perfect.

Clean lines, modern yet rich in history. Quiet but not silent. Open space without feeling lost. I walked towards the window overlooking the backyard.

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The white paint of the outbuildings in contrast with the deep blue plunge pool water. For a moment I lingered over the space where I imagined children laughing in the pool in warmer weather, the unique smell of South African braai fires, adults sitting on the back stoep enjoying the ample grape selection of the surrounding wine estates.

I turned around, curious to see what the rest of the space held. The lounge with an inviting fireplace caught my eye. I made a mental note to get wood. It was cozy while big enough to cater for a family. Rich leather seating you melted in, with a throw neatly arranged to curl up under. I noticed a Tumbleweed hanging from the roof. I love attention to detail.

The kitchen was not very large, but big enough for the needs of the cottage. Well equipped with all one may need. My need went as far as coffee and rusks which was stocked in the cottage. The blends from Strictly Coffee was clearly well supported by the community.

I made a cup, folding my hands around it for warmth, stepped out of my shoes and in my socks I explored the huge clay shower downstairs. Felt the textures under my finger. Experience all things with all senses. Towels neatly stacked with a piece of lavender on top, just so, as you enter the bathroom. Purple whispers. What’s not to love? I disturbed the arrangements as I spread out the towel to see the size. I like big bath towels you can get lost in, oh and two ply toilet paper. A non-negotiable for me.

I walked up the stairs to find the most beautiful main bedroom. A sense of romance. A bath one could read, or be coy in. I imagined my husbands laughter. The room was spacious and light played across the white bedding. A sacred space. I missed @SirNoid as I ran my fingers over the linen. Beautiful. As I walked downstairs, I turned once more for another look. Just in time to invite night to fall eventually on this room of fifty shades of dancing light.

Putting my cup in the sink, I looked into the second and third bedrooms, positioned on the ground floor. One room comprised of two single beds and the other with a rather large bed with a door that opened onto the front stoep.

I decided to make myself comfortable in the bedroom downstairs with the large bed, as travelling alone, I did not want to taint my vision of the romantic loft.

Before I could go in search of wood, a man with a wheelbarrow arrived selling wood. I was very pleased as I was starting to feel the chill. I paid for the wood and probably looking at my purple hair and acrylic enhanced long nails, asked “Kan ek Mevrou help met die vuur?”

I naturally accepted and he systematically explained step for step how to make a fire and if I need more wood, he would be back tomorrow.

I smiled, thanked him and asked for a hug. He truly looked shocked, surprised and delighted at the same time. A toothless grin as I hugged him and said I would see him the next day.

White woman offering a coloured man with a wheelbarrow a hug. Clearly was not the usual order of business by his reaction. Well, I’m not a very order of business kinda Wenchy.

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I had a lovely supper out in town at Tebaldi’s at Temenos which is worth an entry all on its own. When I returned, I put the heater on and closed the door to keep the heat captive.

I phoned home. Stretched out under the white, fresh linen and was soon lost in a land where wheelbarrows meant smiles, a Tumbleweed dangled from the moon and I was sipping champagne in a bath, in a room of wonders.

I found in McGregor, dreams could easily become reality. What you thought to be your truth, was easily challenged by the sincerity of a toothless grin.

You should visit… especially if you enjoy watching a Tumbleweed dancing in the light of the moon.

I wish you enough,

McGregor

McGregor is a small village in the mountains of the Western Cape, South Africa. It is roughly 150 km east of Cape Town. It is located in Ward 5 of the Breede River Winelands Municipality. According to the Census 2001, this Ward has a population of 10,254 people (Stats SA, 2001).