J.C. LeRoux and Cheetahs too
With nearly no voice left after cheering for May and Walsh, the USA team, we toured the vineyards of Stellenbosch. Luckily, no speaking was involved in drinking various sparkling wines at The House of J.C. LeRoux. We made it there for the very last tasting, and spent half an hour trying to act sophisticated as we learned about the famous South African wines. I sniffed, I swirled, I sipped, I savored – Dad, you’d be proud of me. I actually could distinguish one from another, though I couldn’t finely articulate my experience afterwards like you can. Every time the lady returned to get our feedback, Tanya and I said it was good or too sweet, and then held out our glasses for the next round. I tried to impress her with a bit of lingo I picked up from Tuscany this past summer, and said, “This one has legs,” as I examined the sides of the glass. She smiled and replied, “Yes, they all do.”
Spier is the most touristy of the wineries, so we of course paid a visit there as well. In addition to the picturesque lakes and mountains, we got to do another close encounter. This time with 8 cheetah cubs.
Due to the heat, the polka dotted cats just rested in the shade. They weren’t as active or interactive as the lions, but they weren’t as potentially fatal either. Just when Tanya and I began wondering how the lazy cubs could be the fastest animals in the world, something startled them and they darted 30 feet away in the blink of an eye. One minute they were right next to us as we stroked their fur, the next they were at the opposite end of the pen.
The restaurant at Spier is probably the biggest attraction. It has tables up in the treetops, a monster buffet, live African music, and complimentary face painting. It was highly recommended by the one and only Ali Weisz, so we stopped there for lunch. Along with the face paint, I got a little lesson in Khoisan from the waitress. More commonly known as the click language. She refused to believe that I couldn’t pronounce the clicks, and stuck with me until I got it down. Until it clicked. The phrase happened to be “f*ck you,” and I didn’t realize that the music had stopped when I finally shouted it out correctly.
We continued on the Garden Route to Hermanus, a pleasant beach town known for whale watching and shark diving. We’re doing one of the two tomorrow morning. [Queue the “Jaws” theme song.]
Missed call, AGAIN?? Sweetheart, I think about you all the time. And even though it’s been a while since I’ve posted, that doesn’t mean I’m not on this site everyday! Multiple times! I love all the postcards — I’ve got my Charlie collection going. And I save all the voicemails so I can hear your voice when I start missing you too much. Nick comes home on Monday and he’s gonna come have lunch with me! Brad and I leave Tuesday night for Florida — what will you be doing for Thanksgiving? I remember when I was studying in London — obviously they don’t celebrate that holiday — but Alyssa and my other friends prepared a feast for me so I wouldn’t feel so far from home. I hope you and Tanya can do something like that! Well, better get back to work on my script. Just took a break to tell you that I love you so much! And I’m so proud of you and all that you’re doing! Please call again, soon!
Love,
November 19th, 2005 at 5:50 pmMary Lee
I’m speechless! Your pictures are amazing and I am so so so jealous! I want to play with a lion!!! You must be having the time of your life. I got your postcard and i got so happy! I am going home on Monday, actually flying home with Nick! But how sad will home be without you…no one to meet me at Zen Zoo
I’ll drink one for you because I love you and I miss you like crazy!! XOXOXOXO meliss
November 19th, 2005 at 7:41 pmReminder: Roommates tend to share mailboxes.
November 20th, 2005 at 12:26 amSo trips to my mailbox are a staple in my life. A ritual, a process, one might even say a tradition. It begins with the four flights of stairs, a few right turns here and there, and then BAM! I’m staring at a metal wall of endless numbers. My small, nondescript home to my mail, crudely labeled 4502, happens to reside right smack in the middle of this massive metal army of mailboxes I face every day. Weilding my little mail key, I attack. Sometimes its almost up to 30 seconds before I am victorious in my search. Maybe it’s the challenge of the search…maybe its just the pure anticipation of receiving mail or (if i’m really lucky) a package. Either way, the journey to my mailbox never fails to add a little bit of adventure to my day.
This one particular afternoon, just a few days ago in fact, I made this familiar trip downstairs. Upon entry to my mailbox, imagine my delight to see a postcard with your handwriting! I was ecstatic to see the words “Hey best friend” written in distinct Charlie block lettering. However, much to my confusion, the parentheses below the block lettering explicitly said “don’t tell Emily.” It never occured to me that this postcard would be for anyone else besides myself. Therefore you could only imagine my reaction when I realized the postcard was indeed addressed and intended for my roommate. My intentions are by no means to make you feel guilty here, but allow me to say that my reaction was somewhat a mixture of confusion, neglect and, well, devastation. I’ll be honest, if I’m going to replaced by anyone it is somewhat of a comfort to know my position as best friend is being assumed by a person such as my roommate. She is fantastic and you will most certainly enjoy getting to know her. However, next time you are going to replace me it would be nice to be notified before I start delivering best friend postcards not addressed to me. Don’t fret, I will continue to love you even though I have been snubbed, but don’t think for a second this doesnt put a damper on our relationship. I may have to hold off on my zen zoo delivery trips to your house this summer. Well, I dont know if I’ll be that extreme, but I will think of something.
Love your neglected best friend,
Emily
Charlie! You got to Spier and Abseil Africa! Oh man how great was that buffet?! I got one of those “dope on a rope” shirts for free because they felt bad that I broke my butt. Haha. Nonetheless, you’re doing a fantastic job with Cape Town and I’m so proud - and jealous!
November 20th, 2005 at 12:53 pmhey charlie. while you’re in africa and i’m in st. louis, our best friends (and ellen and harry) got to see eachother at northwestern. mari was at the gym, which is a surprise in itself, and saw that there was a fencing tournament in the gym. and then she saw the stanford uniforms… and then the glorious red hair. i’ll be seeing that red hair on tuesday night, and we will definitely be missing you. it has been my dream to eat in a treetip restaurant, so congratulations on your ability to let me live vicariously through. i hope you get to dive with the sharks, that sounds so scary, but so awesome. miss youuuu. love, amy.
November 20th, 2005 at 2:22 pm