Cape Town and a 70th Birthday Party

I am back in Durban, and it is already rather warm here. The forecast for an El Nino event seems to be unfolding as we were warned. It could be really serious for much of the world, but the whole of Southern Africa might experience extreme drought again.

It has been over a week since I left Norwich. I caught the 6 AM flight to Amsterdam and then connected on the KLM flight to Cape Town. I was fortunate that there were two empty seats (the middle section) between myself and my neighbour, so we had room to spread out. After the 11-hour flight I was picked up by a prebooked shuttle service, and taken to my accommodation, the Mouille Point Apartments. Once there I checked in and fell into bed. I wish there was a direct flight to Durban, I normally change planes in Johannesburg which is a real pain, and I must spend a night at a hotel.

The following day there was a howling gale blowing that I found quite unsettling. I took an Uber to Simonstown to meet Sandra Dodson for lunch and a general catch up. She has been helping me with my memoir, which has been mentioned a few times in this blog. She is an excellent editor and proofreader and essentially made recommendations to restructure the entire thing. On Saturday I went to the Waterfront Shopping Centre to get a few essentials. It is quite eye-opening to see the consumerism and wealth in the city, with so many international tourists on the streets.

The main reason for making Cape Town the first stop was that three friends from Durban were celebrating their 70th birthdays. Rob Morrell grew up in Swaziland just a couple of houses away from us, his parents sent him and his siblings to boarding school in South Africa so I mainly knew him from primary school. He and I reconnected when he moved to Durban to teach at the University of Durban Westville. He was one of the ardent touch rugby players who met once a week on Hammond field. Geoff Schreiner worked in labour relations and played rugby with us. I did not know the third person, Paul Weinberg, in Durban, as he was neither a rugby player nor at the University.

The Touch Rugby Team at 70+, 19th September 2026

The party was a short distance from the apartment, at the Oceana Power Boat Club. This is a great, but hidden, location. I suspect its patrons are mainly local people who know about it and have done so for decades. Power boats and ski boats are popular amongst a certain segment of the white South African population; I don’t think it is a class thing but rather to do with enjoying the outdoors. It is not just mad dogs and English men who sit out in the midday sun. I briefly sat at a table with a Russian woman, her South African husband and their child. They were not there for the party but for supper. The husband is involved in cryptocurrency, so I do not fully understand what he does.

There must have been close to 150 people, and I knew perhaps half of them. It was good to have the opportunity to catch up with old friends and acquaintances and talk about how we, the country, and the world have changed. I suspect it will be the last gathering of this type, but we may just squeeze in 75th birthdays. Interestingly guests had started leaving by 10 o’clock and when I left at 11 there were just a few diehards at the bar.

On Sunday my brother, Derek, collected me and I spent two days with him and his wife Lynn in Hout Bay. On Sunday we had enough time to visit a vineyard near Stellenbosch. It has been owned for over 30 years by a French woman, now in her 90s but who still takes a great interest in the operation. Derek and Lynn very kindly took me for a day trip on Monday. We drove as far as Hermanus, a picturesque little town on the coast known for whale watching. There were no whales in sight.

A sunny day, facing the sea with a rocky seafront and restaurant dining in the foreground.

The view from the restaurant in Hermanus, September 2026

While I was staying with them, I read a book Lynn recommended: ‘Crab Soup and other Stories’ by Dirkie Joubert. This is the autobiography of an Afrikaans woman (and it was translated from Afrikaans), who was born in Montagu in the Cape in 1864. It is the story of the family’s six month plus trek by ox-wagon to Klerksdorp in the Transvaal in the 1880s. It is a fascinating tale of a difficult journey, as seen by a young white girl. The family meet and make friends on the way, and she, matter-of-factly, records the hardships, including deaths of people and stock. The journey is jeopardized when some of the oxen that pulled the wagon die. I enjoyed the book. It was published by the Montagu Museum and is, I suspect, hard to get.

Two things stood out. Firstly, although there were African and mixed-race servants on the journey, the race issue is barely mentioned. Secondly, the family managed to meet up with friends and family on the way. Quite how this happened in the vast Karoo I do not understand. We often underestimate the skills and communications of past generations.

On the long trip they passed near Kimberley, where diamonds were discovered in 1867, and ended close to the Witwatersrand where gold was found in 1886. There is a sense that the adults had a plan but Dirkie was not aware of it.

On Tuesday Tim Quinlan, who worked for me at the Health Economics and HIV and AIDS Research Division in Durban, came to Cape Town from Riversondereind. I carried a bottle of whisky for him from the UK on behalf of his sister, so he had an incentive. We made a good call about where to go, and he took me to the airport. There are some decent places to eat so we were able to have a leisurely lunch and a long chat. Unfortunately, he was not able to make it to the birthday party, so it was good to have a chance for a long catch up.

I have been back in Durban for just a few days and there are clear signs of spring. In the last 48 hours nearly all the flowers have fallen from the Jacaranda tree outside my window and in a couple of weeks it will be in leaf. Sadly, though, we have lost a number of old trees in the neighbourhood since it has been incredibly windy. The trees were huge, but I am informed that the city is growing saplings to replace them over time in a managed manner. Most South African cities have excellent tree cover so that is something to be pleased about. Of course, our trees also provide a highway for the monkeys that come past every week or so, but that’s a small price to pay for the greenery.

I am looking forward to walking in Glenwood. For the past six weeks I have been suffering from stained Achilles tendons. We went to see the film The Odyssey a while ago, though Achillies does not make an appearance in this I made a tangential connection. It has been painful and disabling.

I finally saw a convincing health professional in Norwich. Charles Allen is an ‘Intrinsic Biomechanics Specialist’. His practice, Walk to Run,

‘bridges the gap between medical care and fitness performance… a preventative approach to… live well and stay mobile for longer. … intrinsic biomechanics assessing, soft tissue (sports massage) therapy, coaching and rehabilitation’

He spent over an hour with me and produced an extensive written report and prescribed a series of exercises. This works, and I will be able to start my walking regimen and gym visits again soon, I hope.

The Climate Emergency is Very Real

I have been back in Norwich for a month and there has still been virtually no rain. Day after day the skies have been clear, and the garden has steadily grown more and more desiccated. Fortunately, we have a number of large trees that are surviving and presumably will make it through. This means, at least, the garden is cool.

There is no doubt we are facing a climate emergency and it is really depressing to see how much denial there is about this. I do understand the feelings of helplessness that many have when faced with this inexorable crisis. The only way to deal with it is to come together and hold everyone, especially governments and capitalists, to account. That requires leadership across countries as well as within them.

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End of March

I have had a busy time this month. Wednesday, 18th March, was my birthday, a big one as I turned 70. I decided as it was, obviously, a once in a lifetime experience, I would organise several celebratory events. On the day Rowan, my daughter, Ailsa and I went out for lunch to Cafe 33, a popular venue in Norwich. Rowan brought Ledger, our grandchild, of course. He is now seven months old, and I will admit to having the grandparent prejudice of thinking he is exceptionally smart and good looking.

I had never been to this venue but had noted that it is very popular, with queues outside the door, even in winter! I now understand why. The food is excellent and the prices extremely reasonable. The exterior is not very inviting, the frontage is on a busy city street and it is not easily accessible. Once we were in it was really special.

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On Films and Books

A couple of weeks ago Douglas and I went to see the movie Hamnet, which is based on the book of the same name by Maggie O’Farrell. Hamnet was William Shakespeare’s only son who died of the bubonic plague aged 11. He contracted it after his twin, Judith, fell ill with it. In the film he lay next to her and asks God to spare her and take him instead. This is what happens, he dies and she recovers.

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What will 2026 bring?

This monthly update was started a couple of days before the new year. I finalised it just after New Year’s Day, but took a few days to proofread it.

I find the period between Christmas and the new year to be rather melancholic. However, Christmas day was unique and very special as Rowan, Ben and four-month-old Ledger joined us for lunch. Of course, Ledger does not have much idea about what is going on, but it was a joy and delight to have the little boy present. He is as bright as a button and is beginning to smile and chuckle (although not at me yet!). He has turned into a little person very quickly and clearly has strong opinions.

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The Draft is Finally Done

It is hard to believe that it is over six years since we first saw cases of COVID-19, although it was some months before we realised the enormity of the event. By March 2020 the world had entered a lockdown that was enforced with different levels of enthusiasm, restriction and periods depending on the country.

There were many dreadful consequences of the pandemic. But I will be the first to admit that I did not suffer as many people did. There was loss of livelihoods; deaths of family and friends; and psychological impacts, for many being cooped up in a flat or similarly small living space and not sharing significant events with others.

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Theatre and Short Breaks

This somewhat meandering blog began in Paternoster, a small former fishing village on the Cape West Coast. My contribution to grandparenting is limited at this stage, so I decided to head for South Africa for a spell. As people who read this regularly know, I avoid Durban from January to April/May; it is just too hot and humid, so this was the last chance to visit for a while.

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The dog days of August

A goal of my blogging is to not write too much that is personal. However, this month I must break that rule. A couple of weeks ago my daughter gave birth to her first child, and therefore our first grandchild. The boy and mother are doing well, and we have seen them briefly. This new life is quite miraculous. I had forgotten how tiny and fragile newborns are!

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Warm by day and cool by night

The weather in Durban has been glorious, warm days (22-24°C) with cool nights. One bonus of this is there are few mosquitoes, which is unusual. What normally happens is I am just dropping off to sleep when there is a piercing hum in my ear. A mosquito, and it can’t be ignored. The little bastards are persistent, and action has to be taken. I have spray and mat to deter them. I had a friend and former colleague stay with me for just under a week. He is a good friend whom I have known for over 40 years. We played touch rugby with academics, trade unionists and people who wanted a good run around, once a week for many years. He and I did a couple of road trips which appear in blog archives (here and here).

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Finally, the Memoir’s First Draft is Finished

In the last week of February, I finished the first draft of my memoir. It is nearly 90,000 words and has 15 chapters, but is far from complete. I must read it through a few more times and, ideally, get it to a professional editor.

I am not precious about having someone pull it apart constructively. I know how very helpful it can be! In 2008 I wrote the Very Short Introduction on HIV and AIDS for The Oxford University Press. When the manuscript came back from the editor there was not just a correction on every page but every paragraph. I felt offended thinking: ‘But I know how to write’.

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