It's turkey day - Thanksgiving for us - and Paul and Debbie graciously agree to a drive over the Traduow Pass from Barrydale to the booming berg of Swellendam where we hope to find something vaguely resembling the much-loved bird and its trimmings. Tim and I have carefully reviewed the menu of every restaurant in Swellendam and concluded there was not a single turkey to be had. We gave serious thought to running down a stray guinea fowl and dressing it for dinner, but they ran too fast and had a terrified look, as if they sensed our intentions.
We concluded that there is not a single turkey in this entire country. So how about a new trade deal: a fowl exchange. We send a clutch of turkeys to South Africa and in turn we get a herd of Oudsthoorn's famous ostriches. We could even set up Skype accounts so they could stay in touch with their old flocks at home (who else could anthropomorphize an ostrich??).
Back to Thanksgiving dinner . . . after cruising up and down the main street, we finally decide on a restaurant that appeals to all of us, mostly because of its idyllic setting - above a meandering creek, shaded by gorgeous old trees. Turns out that was about all this restaurant had going for it. The closest thing we could find to turkey was roast pork, and it was overcooked and tough.
Not to be deterred, there is a really fine museum here in town so we head off to check it out. It's called the Drostdy Museum which apparently means 'really cool old government building' anywhere in South Africa.
This has the distinction of having been a residence as well as a seat of government. The rooms are faithfully restored and really, really nice - high ceilings, thick walls, beautiful floors, and a very authentic feel. After a wander through the bedrooms, kitchen, dining room, and courtroom, we head to the 'transport' wing which included a hand-drawn funeral cart (a bier), a horse-drawn funeral coach, and a stagecoach. All that's missing are a few Indians and the cavalry!
From there we head across the street to the old gaol which wasn't much to look at (no surprise) except we learned that women were spared flogging and instead incarcerated in a horrid little room with no windows and a dirt floor. Totally depressing . . . outside, incongruously, there was a herd of local sheep which were the strangest sheep we've ever seen. They are called 'fat tailed sheep' and are not raised for their wool but for their milk and meat. They store fat in their huge tails which enables them to survive in harsh conditions, such as the Karoo, and comprise 25% of the world's sheep population.
One of the spectacular views on our drive back home through the pass.
The Tradouw (means women's path in the old Khoi language) Pass road is one of 13 such roads built by that old master builder, Sir Thomas Bain. The original dirt trail was the one traversed by the Khoi women to and from Swellendam. (despite my best efforts I couldn't find out why they made this 17km trek)
Thanksgiving wouldn't be complete without a pie and not a pumpkin in sight. It's berry season here so we head off to a berry farm where a lovely lady gives us a bucket and directions to the best picking. Blackberries are in season along with a local hybrid (blueberry and blackberry) known as a youngberry (not to our taste) so we gorged on blackberries and took a way too big bucket home.
One of the more unusual Thanksgivings we've had but we are grateful for a life that's abounding in blessings. Hope yours was equally wonderful!
We concluded that there is not a single turkey in this entire country. So how about a new trade deal: a fowl exchange. We send a clutch of turkeys to South Africa and in turn we get a herd of Oudsthoorn's famous ostriches. We could even set up Skype accounts so they could stay in touch with their old flocks at home (who else could anthropomorphize an ostrich??).
Back to Thanksgiving dinner . . . after cruising up and down the main street, we finally decide on a restaurant that appeals to all of us, mostly because of its idyllic setting - above a meandering creek, shaded by gorgeous old trees. Turns out that was about all this restaurant had going for it. The closest thing we could find to turkey was roast pork, and it was overcooked and tough.
Not to be deterred, there is a really fine museum here in town so we head off to check it out. It's called the Drostdy Museum which apparently means 'really cool old government building' anywhere in South Africa.
This has the distinction of having been a residence as well as a seat of government. The rooms are faithfully restored and really, really nice - high ceilings, thick walls, beautiful floors, and a very authentic feel. After a wander through the bedrooms, kitchen, dining room, and courtroom, we head to the 'transport' wing which included a hand-drawn funeral cart (a bier), a horse-drawn funeral coach, and a stagecoach. All that's missing are a few Indians and the cavalry!
From there we head across the street to the old gaol which wasn't much to look at (no surprise) except we learned that women were spared flogging and instead incarcerated in a horrid little room with no windows and a dirt floor. Totally depressing . . . outside, incongruously, there was a herd of local sheep which were the strangest sheep we've ever seen. They are called 'fat tailed sheep' and are not raised for their wool but for their milk and meat. They store fat in their huge tails which enables them to survive in harsh conditions, such as the Karoo, and comprise 25% of the world's sheep population.
One of the spectacular views on our drive back home through the pass.
The Tradouw (means women's path in the old Khoi language) Pass road is one of 13 such roads built by that old master builder, Sir Thomas Bain. The original dirt trail was the one traversed by the Khoi women to and from Swellendam. (despite my best efforts I couldn't find out why they made this 17km trek)
One of the more unusual Thanksgivings we've had but we are grateful for a life that's abounding in blessings. Hope yours was equally wonderful!
