Chapter 6
Glencairn had no shops; all provisions were brought from Simonstown with carts and horses at first - vans came later. Treats from the baker�s cart were mosbolletjies and raisin bread, and Mother bought trays of nectarines and peaches which were soon gobbled up by her hungry family. I was lucky, as I always burned brown, but the others suffered from sunburn whenever they ignored Mother�s orders which included instructions limiting sun-bathing to short periods till we were used to the effects. Carron oil was the remedy for sunburn, and as a preventive Mother sometimes used Hazeline Snow on our faces - this caused me acute embarrassment in my early teens as it vanished all right when applied, but as soon as I was in the water it shone in white patches on my face!
I think I was 13 when we had a long walk across the Peninsula, from Glencairn in False Bay to Witsands on the Atlantic coast. I was the youngest of the party - it was really a teenage crowd (oh well, I just qualified). Shena, Jim, Kilgour, Jess, Ann and Jean Parker (whose holiday house was next door to Corrie and with whom we had a long friendship), Isabel and Helen Rennie (out from England) and their sister Betty were in the party. The arrangement was that we would meet Dad, Mother and Mrs Parker for lunch as they drove round with all the picnic food and drink. We got to Witsands in good time - and waited and waited and waited. Never a sign of the parents. Eventually we decided to walk on, and we reached Kommetjie Hotel in time for a late and much-needed tea. As we finished the meal, the car appeared - they�d gone to the wrong beach (or had we?) - and now Dad had to pay for our teas as none of us had carried any money. South-easters did not hamper our activities, but we did very much appreciate the lovely days when there was no wind and word would go round among the teenagers, "It�s calm, and there�s a moon tonight. Let�s go up the sandhills." There were lovely occasions when Parkers, Kippses, Lows, Wellses and others all clambered happily - barefoot of course - up and down the dunes till we reached a certain rock where we all gathered and had a sing-song and happy hour. Mr and Mrs Abbott owned the stand behind Corrie, and for years they holidayed there in tents, with their son Arthur. Arthur�s motorbike was a fascination for us, and I enjoyed short (daring!) trips as a pillion passenger. When I was well on in my teens, one occasion when we arrived at Corrie, Shena and I went into our bedroom and, one on each side of the dressingtable, leant over to pull up the heavy sash window. We both did this awkwardly, and both had an attack of lumbago and for a few days we both walked lopsidedly, but neither had a bad attack - we just got laughed at. Another affliction I suffered from was hayfever, when I lay helplessly sneezing on my bed when I tried to make it. Dad used me as a guineapig with various remedies: one brand of Ephedrine gave heart palpitations, but another brand did help a bit. In the evenings we often had friends round for games after supper. Round the diningroom table, lit by an oil lamp swinging above our heads, we played "Up Jenkins", "Hustle Patience" and many more card and word games. ~~***~~
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