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.

Drought looms, fires burn

I spent just under three months in Durban and returned to England over the last weekend in July. There was virtually no rain in Durban, and while it is the dry season, this was exceptional. We know, thanks to El Nino, there is an impending drought across Southern Africa. This dry spell suggests it may be severe, perhaps even the worst since 1983/84.

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Xenophobia, football and books

I am not sure why I didn’t get this written and posted before the end of June. There have been a few things going on, the World Cup for example, although I have not been paying that much attention to it. I am saddened that South Africa got knocked out but pleased that they got as far as they did. I hope that England continues their run of success. Mind you by the time you see this posting they may not be in the running anymore!

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And the final birthday celebration

I arrived back in Durban on 14 May, after the usual 6 AM flight from Norwich to Amsterdam to catch the 10:30 KLM flight to Johannesburg, overnight in the City Lodge, and then to Durban on an 11 o’clock flight on Thursday. It was all straightforward. I should have gotten the earlier flight down, as I had more than enough time to get to the check-in, one learns. In Durban I picked up a car and drove to Haymarket where I had to negotiate my way into the car park at the back of the block of flats I live in. The remotes had been changed due to an incursion when one was stolen from a car.

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Meeting Movers and Shakers in London

I am putting my fingers to the keyboard a little ahead of schedule this month. I wanted to get this blog out before I travelled to South Africa at the end of April. Those plans changed, as I describe later. I’ve had an interesting couple of weeks and am writing while it is still fresh in my mind.

I am a member of the UK board of the organisation ForAfrika. Just over a week ago I was invited to a small gathering of board members in London. The CEO, Isak Pretorious, hosted a dinner in the Conduit Club. It is quite unique, its members are concerned with making a difference, and I think they do.

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Spring turns to summer

Every Sunday morning, when I am in Durban, I drive to the beachfront. It only takes 14 minutes, provided most of the lights are green. I park next to the iconic Joe Cool’s bar and nightclub, and try to walk for 10 kilometres. The route is to the Point, which is at the harbour mouth. It is only an 8 km round trip, even if I walk down all the piers. I add on a bit by walking past the car towards the Suncoast Casino. This casino, a monument to Mammon and lost hopes, is a blot on the landscape. It was designed as a bit of Las Vegas on the beach. The less said about that the better.

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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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Durban winter is the best time of the year

I have just had 10 glorious weeks in Durban. I travelled over in mid-May and came back to the UK at the end of July. I barely left Durban during this period. The only trip from the city was to Hilton, just outside Pietermaritzburg for lunch with people who attended Waterford. Most were a year or two younger than me, and I had not seen some for more than 50 years. It affirmed the value of the Waterford education and values for all of us.

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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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