WALKING IN FIELDS OF GOLD
I remember when we were living in the western Cape in South Africa. Life was hard back then but it was good. My children were still living with us and attending the nearby school of Robertson.
Occasionally, that region is featured in travelogues on Television or radio. When they speak of the little hamlets dotted around, places like Mc Gregor, Bonnievale, Ashton and Montagu, my mind instantly races to all the special memories I have stored up in my mind.
Robertson, the hub of the Winelands, McGregor, the wonderful homemade cheeses and gigantic calamata and green olives and the amazing art center, Bonnievale, wonderful table grapes and warm hearted people, Ashton, is synonymous with yellow cling peaches and huge apricots, Montagu, breathtaking scenery and raisins.
Finally, when I think of Bredasdorp, there is only one overwhelming memory of hundreds of rolling hills called Ru-ens (backs, as in human backs) all hunched over and the summer trips on the Bredasdorp road running through miles and miles of ripe, yellow canola fields covering these hills and valleys, much like the picture I used in this article.