Mom is just 22 and just married and just two months pregnant, (but she doesn't know it). This is the first time she has really been apart from her mother and father and she sounds so enthusiastic about being on her own with dad, but neither of them really know how to work it.
She writes long letter after long letter to Lisa and Richard while she and dad are in Cape Town. This is one letter of many.
Dad is 23 and taking a course in journalism. Mom mentions Marius Skoon. Mom's old letters are so newsy and fresh and upbeat a wonderful tonic for anyone who reads them.
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19, Trianon,
Ave. Marseilles,
Sea Point,
Cape Town.
22/4/59
Darling Mom and Dad,
I've just got your letter telling me about Frame, and it's very exciting. I hope something came out of it. And I can tell you one thing, that if you live in Paarl, as soon as possible, To and I are going to live in Cape Town too. We were just saying yesterday, that it would be marvellous if we could make our permanent home here . After going overseas for a few years To could get a transfer to the Cape Argus, and the whole family would settle in the Cape. I'm sure we'd be so happy here. I know I always say that South Africa is no place to bring up children, especially now, but what I really mean is the Transvaal. Somehow you don't feel that sense of unease. Things seem calm and settled here, and quite honestly, I don't think either the non-Europeans or the whites bother much about anything down here. They just get along together quite happily. There is that feeling anyhow and I love it. The only real snag is that the Argus isn't a very good paper. Terribly provincial and rather dull. I don't know whether the beauty of Cape Town would compensate for that. Anyway, I'm dying to know what happened. I suppose if you write today I'll get the letter on Saturday at the earliest. Maybe you'll be excited. If you DO go down to Paarl we'll shoot up there as soon as we've heard the news and see what the town is like and I'm holding thumbs hard.
I'm glad you found some friends down at the Oyster Box. Just right for both of you. You must both be bursting with health, after all that food, sleep, sport and sun. But be careful with the sudden change to that highveld cold!
The weather here is a dream. Cool, but not cold, and one brilliant sunny day after another. Touch wood, not a hint of rain.
And now for my news here. The most exciting thing is that we bought a second hand scooter for £55-0-0 ! A chap at the school bought one and To and another boy, Carl, the one who has got his M.Sc., went with him to collect it. Carl has also got a scooter, which he's had for years while he was at university at Stellenbosch. Anyway, just on the off-chance, To asked the man at the garage whether he knew of a good second hand scooter, and the man told him about this one, which he said was in excellent condition. So To and Carl went to see it and, and Carl said it was a very good buy, as it was even better than his. It's only done six thousand miles, and there is hardly a scratch on it. The only thing that we will have to buy for it is a shield, as that stops the rain a bit. Carl showed To how to drive it, and To is already quite alright on it. He's getting out a learners license today, and going for the test next week.
Please Mom could you send me my driver's license, as they give you a scooter license very easily. To's going to teach me this weekend, it's such a thrill! To's like a child with a new toy. So proud of it. I don't know what kind it is. I know it's got a cruising speed of 40 miles per hour in top gear, and three gears and that it takes the hill up to our flats quite easily, though I don't know if it will when they're two people on it.
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To was the nearest but he coaxed me down to the sea, and we sat on the rocks and ate jelly beans, and fought about whether the tide was in or out.
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I haven't ridden with To yet, because I felt he should get the hang of it without the pillion passenger, so I've been going on Carl's scooter, when Carl goes with us in the evening. Last night I had Carl to supper (Marrow bones, stew, mashed potatoes and baked apples - good huh?) and afterwards we went for a ride to Camps Bay. On the way back we went to the Clifton Hotel and had drinks, and talked for hours. My duffle coat is a blessing, it doesn't let a whiff of wind in. The only thing that got a bit cold were my knees! It really is glorious to have that little thing. They are such fun. The only thing is that when they tried to teach me to start it yesterday I could hardly hold the thing up, and as for jumping vigorously on the starter, and opening up the throttle, and holding it all up at the same time....Goodness knows if I'll ever be able to manage it. I had no idea I was such a frail delicate creature! But I was having the giggles and it was dark, so maybe if I really set my mind to it and I can see what I am doing I'll be able to manage. Because we planned t=it that I'd have the scooter during the week for shopping etc., while To will only have when he particularly needs it. I'm scared it's going to be like riding a bicycle.............
Apart from that , I've been very busy. We've been out almost every night. On Wednesday, we went down to Sea Point to try and see the Bardot film. That time we went to see "Tunnel of Love" we wanted to go to it, but it was sold out. So on Wednesday we'd decided to go down early. But what with one thing and another, we didn't get down there very early and we missed getting seats. So we went to see "A Night to Remember", which was alright.
Thursday we decided to try again, and sure enough, two people just before us got the last seats. I was so frustrated I felt like murdering someone and of course To was the nearest but he coaxed me down to the sea, and we sat on the rocks and ate jelly beans, and fought about whether the tide was in or out. I must tell you that it is our stock joke at the moment. Every time To looks out to sea he says "the tide's coming in" and after about five minutes he decides it's going out, and then we start fighting. I always hope the tide's going out, because To's got a passion for sitting on the rocks and he just scorns my fears, and I have visions of us being cut off from land by the incoming tide and being found by fishermen three weeks later. Sometimes I think To should have married one of those horsey types, that aren't afraid of ANYthing. He doesn't appreciate my feminine squeals one bit. He just drags me along, in spite of my tears and entreaties! All he has got to do is give me a hearty slap on the back and say "come on old girl", and there will be a divorce in the family.
Friday night Philip Wymore took five of us to the docks, to a restaurant there. Philip is the 35 year old at the school. He is a widower with a fourteen year old daughter, who's at school in England. Philip himself is English, and has only been here about eight months. He's really a terrific character. He is a part-time lecturer at Cape Town University, he's got his own program on the S.A.B.C. he plays the piano (jazz) for recordings and he's played the piano for the S.A.B.C. symphony orchestra in several piano concertos. His hobby is spanish dancing, and he teaches that at a studio three times a week. He's just doing this course because he feels that journalism will help him in radio work. To us little country bumpkins he's really wonderful, and the nice thing about him is that he doesn't give himself airs, and feels quite at home even in the company of 18 year olds. He's most interesting to talk to, and very good company, but very nervy.
Well, he took us to the Harbour Cafe, which is a place which specialises in sea foods, and Portuguese food. It is a very ordinary looking place, just like a greek shop, but the food is delicious. We bought some white wine and To had Boullabaisse while most of us had crayfish piri-piri which is absolutely gorgeous, but hot. Whew! During the Boullabaisse, the waiter broke a galss, and about two minutes later To found a bit of glass in his soup. He was sure he had swallowed some and kept clutching his throat in the most dramatic manner, but that didn't stop him from having another Boullabaisse and the most enormous plate of king prawns I've ever seen. After supper we went to Philip's cottage which is really charming, though rather arty, mah deah. And there old To put on some Jose Greco, and Philip gave us a very unsteady exhibition of spanish dancing, while Derek who is only eighteen and has lead a very unsophisticated life which never included crayfish or wine, was sick in the bedroom. Dave, another reporter at the school, and To tried to imitate Philip, with much shouting and stamping, while Carl just lay. I read a recipe book!
AS was to be expected, at about three o'clock To put a big foot on my stomach as he climbed out of bed, and I heard the most terrible retching noises coming from the bathroom. I blush to say this, but all I did was turn over and go back to sleep! I didn't turn a hair. But of course I know that whenever we went out and ate, like at Paul's wedding, and at the Finger's anniversary, he goes mad and eats the most enormous amount and spends half the night being sick.
Saturday we did absolutely nothing at all. The luggage came and we tried to put it away and everything was a dreadful mess. On Sunday it was such a beautiful day that we put on summer clothes and our swimming costumes. By the time we got down to the beach, there was a cold wind and we felt awful fools as people went past in thick woolen jerseys, while To clutched the towels to his chest and his legs went all goose-pimply! We bought a few rolls, and ham, and pickled cucumbers and ate in gloomy silence until we saw the funny side of it. Luckily Philip came past in his car and gave us a lift before we had time to get gloomy again, and so we sat in our cosy, untidy room, and even when I got the liver to make liver and chips and found that the liver had gone bad and that there were no eggs in house we stayed cheerful, and had chips and fried tomatoes, and were blissfully happy.
To had invited all the reporters and ( if they could find any ) their girls, so on Monday I went down to town, and bought rice and stewing meat, and cream cheese etc. and started making liptauer and things. I had planned to make curry and rice, but when I tried to cook the meat, I didn't know how to start, even though the coloured girl had told me how to make curry. I'd bought terrible meat, at 1/6 the pound and I just cut it up and put it in boiling water and it smelled JUST like the dogs meat at home, and a horrible scum floated on top so I threw the whole bloody thing away. 7/6! Afterwards someone said I should have fried the meat and put it in cold water, and that the 1/6 meat was probably horse meat anyway.
The party was a roaring success. There were only three other girls and about twelve boys, but that didn't seem to matter, somehow. It really was great fun, and at one o'clock I made scrambled eggs and toast, which cleaned us out of eggs, and we all sang and one chap brought a banjo, and I expected the neighbours to descend on us with knives and axes, but they seem to be a tolerant lot, and I swore again I'd never moan at those people who have singing parties again.
The mess yesterday was something quite phenomenal. I nearly committed suicide when I saw it. But somehow I managed, and still had a reserve of energy left to decide that I would cook To a decent meal for a change. Which was just as well, because he turned up with Carl and Graham for supper! We had just enough except I had to pretend that I didn't like marrow on toast, which nearly killed me because you know how I love it, and I couldn't stand the sight of those three guzzling, so I went to the kitchen until they finished. And there were only three baked apples, so To and I had to share one and I was still bloody hungry when we had finished! Luckily we still had a mountain of liptaur left!
After supper Graham went away ( thank God - To can't stand him, and only asked him because he asked Carl in front of him and To says Graham spoiled his whole supper - I must say To behaved badly. Refused to say one word, and looked murderous and when he helped me clear the dishes said in a loud voice "Christ, I can't stand it", but I just kicked him and tried to be very sweet. ) As I was saying, after supper, we went for that long drive I told you about, and came home tired, but the proud owners of a vehicle.
I must go into town now, as we have got no lav paper, and I've been using To's scrap book for the last two days and he's getting mad. And Mom, if you think that To washes the dishes you're mistaken. The old bastard's acting more and more like a Steinhardt everyday! I am always exhausted by the time he leaves in the morning! I have to run and get him this, and that and, and where's my book, and what happened to the newspaper....Grrrr!
We met an old friend of ours here, Marius Skoon, who was at school with little Tony, and did law last year at Wits. He failed his exams, and is now working with a publishing firm. I hope he is going to get me a morning job, with some political organisation, but don't get scared dad I won't mix myself up in anything, and I'll just work for a salary, and that's all. I have also started advertising in the Argus for pupils for french, whom I'll have to take here in the afternoons and evenings, so that I'll be able to cook. Should be fun! To put the advertisement in the paper today.
And now I must go. I am really holding thumbs down about Frame. Give my love to all our friends, and especially the dogs. Keep well and don't overwork. All my love, hugs and kisses,
your ever loving
Evechen
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