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My Cape Town

Joseph's passport photo

Apart from the occasional gumming of an air stewardess’s ear Joseph behaved himself pretty well on his first flight.  Clearly a budding engineer, he mastered the seat belt buckle in seconds and once he had been transferred to the bassinet, he made repeated attempts to get at the screws which held it to the bulkhead.  When awake he gahhed and burbled, noises which were lost in the white noise of the engines.  When asleep he lay stretched out and tucked in, and I gazed at him partly in awe but mostly with the exponentially increasing envy known only to the economy traveller.

I had been a bit apprehensive about taking Joseph back to England but I desperately wanted to  him to meet all the friends and relatives.  The flight was the main issue.  Neill and I had done a couple of weekends away with him and even then the car had been stuffed to the gunnels.  How would I manage alone with a six month old baby?  How would I feed him?  Would he sleep?  Would he scream?  Would everybody hate me?  I had 12 hours non-stop Cape Town to London to find out.

The first hurdle was applying for a passport for Joseph, then remembering to collect it, then remembering where I had put it.  Then remembering where I had put mine. 

I wrote a list of what I would need on board: nappies, wet wipes, Vaseline, baby paracetemol just in case, a nozzle to administer the baby paracetemol, muslins, baby food, spoons for baby food, bibs, toys (nothing too noisy, nothing that might roll away down the aisle), bottles, spare bottles in case the others rolled away down the aisle, baby formula, dummy, his own blankets to make the boy feel at home and to avoid the static of the aeroplane ones, a couple of changes of clothes for him just in case, a change of clothes for me just in case.  And a book and a packet of tissues. And the tickets.  And the passports.  Where had I put those again?

There wasn’t a hope of an upgrade (is there ever?) so I dressed for comfort in cast-off maternity trousers and slippers.  Somewhat dishevelled by the last minute packing, I shuffled around stopping every now and again to hitch up the old elastic on my waistband. I think people were genuinely surprised to see a baby in the pram rather than a pile of old newspapers or a flea-bitten mongrel.

Despite this – or quite possibly because of this -  I was fast-tracked through the airport and was even able to wheel the pram right up to the door of the plane.  Things were going surprisingly well.

As I was travelling with an infant, I was one of the first to be shown on board, and had the joy of a completely empty overhead locker above my seat.  I manhandled my bags into it while balancing the boy on my hip, but having got up 10 times in the next 15 minutes to retrieve various items, I dragged them back down again, so that they were right in the way when 40-a-day Rita came to sit beside me.  She was great, entertaining Joseph just the right amount (a lot) and talking to me just the right amount (hardly at all).  But it was even better when she was asked if she would like one of the few available seats.  With my prompting she took up the offer, but she popped back a couple of times during the flight to see if she could help.  And I’d thought I’d be met with hard stares from my fellow passengers.

Which reminds me.  Next time you are on a flight and you see a parent doing a soothing dance with their baby at the front of the section, don’t think, “Why are they facing me?  Aren’t they embarrassed that their child is crying?  Are they showing off?”  These are desperate people.   A child that already has its parent bobbing up and down like a pantomime policeman is not going to be soothed by a sea of scowling faces.  No, it’s the poor parent who has to gaze into the middle distance so that the child can look at a blank grey wall.

But actually it was quite easy.  There was a certain amount of crucial timing with feeds (mine and the boy’s), loo stops (mine and the boy’s) and essential in-flight refuelling from the lurking presence of the drinks trolley (all mine).  But the fact that I’d booked a bassinet was a bonus (FYI: max 11kgs/24lbs so long as the baby can’t sit up.  As if it could once wedged in to that tiny space).  Not only did it give me wriggling room but it offered a novel place to rest my head when trying to sleep. 

All in all the flights were remarkably straightforward.  Negotiating all the friends and relatives was a far more hazardous undertaking.  But for those of you considering coming to Cape Town with children do not fear: it is perfectly possible to survive the journey.  And once you are here, you’ll find it is one of the most child-friendly cites in the world.  Welcome to the Mothercity.

Daisy

www.capeconcierge.co.za

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Villa of the Month

The Old Winery is a four bedroom holiday home (with the additional option of a one bedroom cottage) situated next to the world class wine estate of Constantia Uitsig.   Formerly a winery, this historical building has been restored to provide a very comfortable home with an abundance of character.

Surrounded by a wonderful one-acre garden of gentle rolling lawns, riotous flower beds and large shady trees, the house offers a fabulous amount of space, ideal for families with children.

A single storey dwelling, The Old Winery has a very light and spacious double-height living room with dining area, a separate television room and a fully equipped kitchen as well as (my personal favourite) a pool-side room with a built-in barbeque - delightful for dining al fresco at any time of day. The master bedroom is on one side of the home, and has a dressing area and en-suite bathroom. On the other side of the house is a second double bedroom with en-suite bathroom and two further small bedrooms which share a bathroom, one with twin beds and the other with a double bed.

An optional guest cottage provides a fifth bedroom and living room.  This cottage is not rented out to other guests during bookings so privacy is never compromised, but it can be included in a booking, upon request, if five bedrooms are needed. 

Within a stone’s throw of The Old Winery lie the wine farms of Constantia Uitsig, Buitenverwachting and Klein Constantia.  There are also excellent restaurants in the vicinity and beautiful beaches within a 15 minute drive.  The elegant shopping mall of Constantia Village is just a 5 minute drive away. 

Fully serviced every weekday by housekeepers Victor and Happiness, the Old Winery is an enchanting and relaxing retreat for any group at any time of year.  And at a rate of approximately R 2 500 – R 5 000 per day, it is also remarkably good value.

The Old Winery is, amazingly, still available for Christmas.  For further information, contact me – .

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