Splash!

Dennegeur plaas, the Perdekop, Deli-co, Riebeek Kasteel

On Sunday, overnight to Monday, Bowie and I were looking after the plaas as my neighbours were off to Cape Town. In terms of chores, that meant watering the buchu seedlings, which are coming along nicely. They’ll be planted out in September. And feeding Toby, who normally reminds me at about 15:30 that dinner is due.

Bowie and I went for a nice walk and then I started on three Substacks for the week. The Diary of Bowie’s Dad, a Langsie Pad about the Org de Rac kuier and an ode to Bowie, who had his first annual birthday on 26 May 2026.

On Monday morning, Bowie and I went for a walk on the Dennegeur plaas across the valley. A warm day, a lot warmer that I had expected at 24C. The jacket came off and we went walkies through the orchards and then along the veld. We met some farm workers pruning apple trees and I got a short tutorial from Ronel and her colleagues. The trees are pruned to maximize exposure to the sun and make fruit picking easier later. Pear and apple trees are pruned differently and not in the same way as vines. The latter only produce grapes on new growth, which is not the case with the apples and pears. I’d need some hands-on work before I fully understand the process.

The farm borders on fynbos vegetation, where the protea are starting to flower in their magnificence. A walk on the Perdeberg was due on Wednesday and I was looking forward to those views and flowers.

As per usual, Bowie saw the dam and went for a cooldown plunge before we continued down the hill on our walk.

On the walk back to the car, I stopped at oom Jan and tant Griet’s house to pick up an ornamental windpomp [windmill] that I had asked oom Jan to make for me. The windmill blades turn and it rotates in the wind. “Alles is ge-olie en ge-grease” [All has been oiled and greased], oom Jan said to me.

It was Bowie’s birthday on Tuesday, and he got a long birthday message and treats. No toys though plenty of food treats which he seemed to enjoy. Beef tripe, sheep’s intestines, chicken feet. He was in a good mood all day, playing with long-forgotten toys and constantly coming for a cuddle or back-scratch on our walks. A cooldown in the dam and then later in the stream were all part of the day.

I had planned a walk on the Perdekop for a while as a treat for Bowie and myself, and that’s I had planned for Wednesday.

However, the weather had other ideas. I could see fog rolling in on the Perdekop side of the valley and decided to wait it out.

Bowie and I took our usual morning walk to the dam and went to the Perdekop later, which I’ve written about in more detail here.

At the start of the walk, I saw an African Spotted Eagle-Owl (Bubo africanus ssp. africanus) giving me the eye, which had me quite excited. Then the protea, at least 4 different species even though it's still early in the season. And the views!

On Thursday, we stayed at the cottage. A nice surprise awaited in the afternoon, as Toby came back after two days at the vet. He had a bowel blockage: sand, of all things. Toby was so glad to be back home, his tail wagging at 100 mph. I was also relieved, having feared the worst.

It was another gatskuur on Saturday with a drive to Deli-co farmstyle butcher’s and bistro, which the chef at the Crazy Cat café had recommended. I had been informed by email that pets were allowed and I could take Bowie for a walk, though they don’t have formal footpaths.

Both M.B. and I were a bit peckish, neither of having had breakfast. Having looked at the on-line menu, I ordered the Skilpadjie Benedict, a plaas upgrade on Eggs Benedict, while M.B. got the French Toast. I also got a spoorweg koffie [‘railway’ coffee], which is basically a coffee with condensed milk. Nicely layered, with the milk at the bottom, which I haven’t seen before. Both meals looked scrumptious and mine was delicious, though neither of us could finish it and a doggy bag was requested.

I had been told about the farm dog, Mikka, who wasn’t too sure whether he wanted to play with Bowie or not, who was his playful self.

There was some initial confusion about walking on the farm with Bowie, as per email. I spoke to the Ouma and was shown a route through the wheatfields. That walk was a necessity after the lekker breakfast, with Bowie enjoying being off the leash. First, though, I had to get Bowie away from the sheep, he was fascinated and lay down for a while, before we walked in the direction of a hilltop water reservoir.

A warm, sunny day, it was quite warm, with beautiful views towards Riebeel Kasteel and the Kasteel berg on one side, and towards Wellington and the mountains beyond on the other side.

As we were driving through Riebeek Kasteel in any case, I proposed that we stop there for a bit of a walk through the ‘mall’. We walked from the town square to the mall, which used to be the ‘business district’ of the town in days gone by.

We had a gesêlsie with Klipkind (Andries Dirks, sculptor and clay wizard), who was busy with a new commission: a fireplace out of clay. This man is exceptional, being both a wonderful artist and a pillar of the community in mentoring underprivileged children. And such a nice, humble human.

Before heading home, we had a nice beer at The Co-op. Bowie was a little tired from our plaas walk and lay down to check out the tannies and have a snooze. After a while, Bowie had enough of the loitering and started talking to me: “It’s time to go!”

There was roosterbrood catching smoke and I got a few to take home. The wors broodjie [sausage roll] had the nicest that I’ve seen. Maybe I should tell the street food tannies that I encounter on my travels?

Back to Wednesday morning.

Bowie was walking along the water’s edge and decided, as he often does, to go for a cool down. This usually means lying in the water for a while. Alas, not this time.

Drama!

Bowie stepped off a ledge into the water. It was deeper than he had expected, which is okay as he can swim.

This time, however, Bowie couldn’t get out of the dam, slipping on the muddy rocks. He grabbed onto a ledge and waited for me. I tried to coax Bowie to another spot where it would be easier to get out. No movement, robably too scared to swim, he held onto the ledge.

I tentatively slid down the muddy bank, holding onto rocks where possible, expecting to fall into the dam as well. It was a close call, but I got to Bowie, who was whining while holding onto the ledge. I reached out to grab Bowie… and slipped.

Splash! Now I was also in the water.

Fortunately, it was more than a metre deep and I didn’t get hurt. It was a bit cold, though I didn’t care at the time. Falling in was a blessing in disguise, as I could now lift Bowie out of the dam onto the ledge and he ran up the embankment. Probably both shocked and terrified.

Then it was my turn to get out. My glasses had stayed on; my phone was underwater, still in my pocket. It was wet and muddy, getting secure hand- and foot-holdswas a struggle. I was literally hande-vier-voet, on my hands and knees, getting out of the dam and up the muddy slope. Not pleasant.

Bowie was OK, though in shock. We had an uncomfortable 15-minute walk back to the cottage. There, I dried Bowie with a towel and put him under the duvet while I had a hot shower. We were fortunate, so much could’ve gone wrong.

Another story to tell on the stoep someday, watching the sun go down.