If you haven’t read the start of our disastrous holiday yet, click here to get up to speed.
Day Two – Spier Estate, a broken SLR lens and Netcare Blaauwberg
Sunday dawned and we rose (Luca, at sparrow’s fart) bleary-eyed but hopeful that the day would hold great things. The weather was GORGEOUS and it was perfect for a trip to a wine farm. So out we headed to Spier, with me constantly wiping Luca’s eyes clean and therefore irritating him into a properly annoying mood. He had, by this stage, begun to become clingy and moany, which is totally out of character for my usually VERY independent and happy-go-lucky little boy. We popped into the amazing deli to buy a meze lunch – it really is incredible and so worth it – and a bottle of Spier Sauvignon Blanc. All the while I had been snapping away: pictures of the scenery, Luca and Gabriella, the cute little squirrels. After our lunch I wanted to take a picture of something, can’t remember what. I switched on my Sony α200 and, with the flick of that switch, my perfect day came to a swift halt. The most hideous grinding sound erupted from the lens as it turned on, and again, as I hurriedly switched it back off.
*This had happened a year or so ago, after Luca (who had just started to crawl) managed to grab my camera strap which was dangling off the dining room table and pulled it (without the protective soft padded case) off the table and crashed it down onto the wooden floor. I had taken my camera into a shop in Rosebank and they recommended that I buy a new [second-hand] replacement and chuck the old one away. Which I did. Since then, NO DROPS have ever occurred. EVER. I have been neurotic about my second [sorry pooches] baby and have always made sure that it’s (a) in its casing and (b) FAR away from where Luca might be able to get hold of it.*
Anyway, it had happened again. Somehow. And I hadn’t dropped it, so was really upset about it and distraught at the idea of six days in Cape Town without being able to take pictures. We would take it to the V&A tomorrow to see what we could do.
No more photos for the day. Luckily, I did manage to get a couple of sweet little ones of Luca and Gabriella actually enjoying each others company for a few precious minutes.
After our picnic it started to get pretty hot and, given the short time that Luca had slept (ten minutes before we arrived at Spier, obviously) in the car, he needed to get home and have some real shut-eye. So, we headed back to Blouberg to get the kids to nap. Luca screamed his pip off when I left him in the rented camp-cot to fall asleep on his own (like he normally would at home), so I got into the bed with him and sang another hundred or so verses of Old MacDonald [“had a … grumpy mummy, eeeyi eeeyi ooooh”] and finally we both drifted off into a deep sleep, waking a blissful two hours later. Well, that’s where the bliss ended. From the second he opened his eyes and stretched his VERY hot and sweaty little body away from mine, he screamed. SCREAMED. Like he was being tortured. Needless to say, David probably secretly thought I was torturing him and we both went into panic mode: running around trying to find the thermometer, unsuccessfully attempting to administer a hefty dose of Calpol and eventually popping him into the [disgusting] Hertz car seat and searching for the nearest hospital in the “Places of Interest” section of my Garmin GPS. A hospital listed in “Places of Interest”? What sick freak set that up? Anyway. We eventually found ourselves at the amazing Blaauwberg Netcare Hospital with a baby who had literally stopped the dramatic screaming the minute we walked in. Obviously. He also did THE biggest poop as I sat him down on the trauma exam bed and OBVIOUSLY we’d left the house in such a panic, we’d forgotten to bring the nappy bag with us. So Dave had to scamper off to the nearby Clicks to bring back supplies. The doctor had a look at our little monkey and not only had he contracted my conjunctivitis, but the poor thing had white spots on his swollen little tonsils and the nasty ear infection that he had just before his first birthday Anyway a whole lot of money, medicine and nappies later, we left the hospital and made our way back home, where we had to literally pin him down to get the antibiotics down his throat. I, however, needed no persuasion to finish off the bottle of wine we’d bought at Spier earlier in the day. For the second night in a row, I climbed into bed with Luca and sang him, and myself, to sleep. Oh sleepless night, oh sleepless night …
PS: Day three’s not nearly as downtrodden and depressing as the first two, so pop back in soon x