Me again - hope you're not bored!

I must have been about 8 years old when my Uncle Len came to Durban on holiday with his friend Aubrey. It was my July holidays and mom was a bit worried about me being left alone in the flat for 3 weeks. Uncle Len twisted my parents' arm to allow him to take me back to Jo'burg for the holidays. They would drive me there and I would fly back.

Oh Joy! I was returning to my second home! Back to being the youngest in the huge family. No longer a lonely only child.

(Just a short note: My grandmother was called Ma and my grandfather was called Pop.)

By now my grandparents had moved into 2 semi-detached houses in Malvern. Ma, Pop and all the boys plus Ma's brother stayed in one semi and Aunty Maureen and family and all the girls stayed in the other. What fun running through one gate to the other or climbing over the back wall that separated the two houses.

We were close to the main road and the younger children were often sent to buy the provisions for the day. I can remember buying 6d soup greens and a shilling soup meat. This was a hearty meal for the huge family. I think Ma put everything bar the kitchen sink into the soup. And oh the dumplings!

There was also an Indian gentleman who drove his horse and cart full of vegetables around the suburb. The bartering that would take place was incredible. And the packages left by the horse steamed on the street for hours!

Ma was a wonderful cook and an expert at making meals extend to feed the huge family and most of the time friends of the kids! Pop was a baker and I swear he had magic hands. I have never tasted pies like he could make. I have already mentioned the cakes and the icing.

One of the family's favourite meals was curry. I really don't know how Ma did it. Pop liked it fiery hot and the young ones were still having their palates educated. This magic pot of curry managed to satisfy all curry tastes. I really wish that I had inherited 1/10 of my grandmother's expertise in the kitchen.

The days extended forever. I can remember we played on the street until the sun went down.

My grandfather was an avid gardener. He taught me how to grow carnations and how to prevent the bud from bursting. I wish I had his green fingers. He mostly worked night shift. So we had to be quiet in the house while he slept. When he woke up he would work in the garden. He had a small front garden of flowers that he tended with loving care. The back garden had fruit trees and vegetables.

At the end of the three weeks I was taken to the airport and put on a plane to travel home. My first flight was uneventful and I loved it. There were no attendants for kids and the elderly. We had to just make t on our own. Fortunately security was virtually non-existant and I think I was almost accompanied by family to the plane and my parents were there to help me get my luggage in Durban.

 
This holiday set up a trend. Every July holiday saw me flying to my "other" family until I was twelve and lost the half fare perk. After twelve I was put on a train (in a coupe) and travelled to and from Jo'burg. I really loved the steam train journey (as long as the hot coals stayed out of my eyes). The chug-a-chug was like a lullaby as I drifted off to sleep. The rattle of the compartment door in the morning announced the steward bringing in the coffee. The excitement of watching the scenery whisk past and the swaying motion of the train all added to the romance of the train journey.