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We offer, aside from fine dining, little farm things (such as flies, stinging nettles, wasps, stones and dust), a swimming pool. Now a few things need be mentioned about this swimming pool. Firstly, it has water in. This is no mean feat in the Karoo. Secondly, it is fenced off, for the sake of privacy, with "garingbome" (a tall stem or "mast" that grows from the center of the leaf rosette of the blue agave aloe when it flowers).
I know these things because I have internet access and Wikipedia is a click away. I know there are many Wiki-disbelievers out there but that is because they either have too little to do or don't have computers. Either way they are a sorry sight). Thirdly and more importantly, there is an entertainment area down there with a fridge wherein a substantial variety of mind altering drinks (such as beer and wine for the meek and harder stuff for the others) are hiding. In this regard I must point out that there is a fine collection of cacti around the pool. Loiter with care, even though pain appears to be dulled, according to the law of Edison, as alcohol consumption increases.
If you are lucky you may see the elusive red wine raider (whatever you report to management will be denied). Just for trivia's sake, the interested reader (if there is such a thing) would have noticed the cobblestones/old clay bricks behind and around the cactus on the above photograph. The illuminated entertainment area behind the pool used to be a shed for sheep and the rest of the area a corral. They call sheep carry packs in these parts hence the shed. And, Mr. Kingstone apparently, who laid these stones, had a soft spot for sheep (possibly lived in Australia for a while) and pampered the carry packs no end. I thought, in my naivety, that sheep were around for mutton chops. But what do I know? All I get to do is writing stupid websites on cheap programs. If it were not that I would lose contact with my dearest Wikipedia I would have poured water over this keyboard. Water, not wine.
The pictures that follow were taken at the Owl House (Nieu Bethesda) and the Pierneef museum in Graaff-Reinet. I suppose you will be able to figure out which is what or the other way around. In case you don't, there is tourist information in town. Take care, you may buy a second hand pick-up if Alfred gets hold of you.
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PLACES TO SEE
cacti & succulent collection * dutch reformed church * game reserve * graaff-reinet pharmacy * hester rupert art museum * johan rupert little theatre * kalkkop impact crater * old library museum [san & bushman rock art *
fossils * william roe * photographic collection] * old residence * nieu-bethesda [owl house] * reinet house [laubscher dolls, porcupine quill house, rhino horn doorstop, one of largest living grape vines in the world] * urquhart house * valley of desolation.
Note: Neither the Valley of Desolation nor the Owl House is for the suicidal. If you need help rather go to the said fridge or phone the infamous hospital (I hear they do even heart transplants nowadays - could be where our baboon was heading had he not the presidency in mind).
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THINGS TO DO (No links, just ask Ilse - not me please, anyway you won't find me, ha)
4 X 4 Trails, Bird Watching, Boer War Engravings & Tours Bushman Painting Walks, Cessna Flights, Crafts, Fly-Fishing, Fossils Tours, Game Viewing & Drives, Golf, Guided Cultural & Site Seeing Tours, Hiking Trails, Horse Riding (elsewhere), Hot Air Balloon Flights, Hunting - Bird & Game, Rock Engravings, Microlighting, Mountain Biking (Bycle Hire), Paragliding, Picnics, Quad Biking, Tennis, Township Walkabouts, Trout Fishing, Trampoline & ALSO Drinking, Loitering, Doing Nothing, Catching Red Herring Monsters or Blue-Back Tortoises - for the really brave only.
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The Manor House was photographed on a gloomy (thank God, colder) day. It has one toilet only. I promise, inspect if you wish (whereas the Chicken Coop (1806) and the Blacksmith's Shop (1856) have en-suite facilities). Trust me, I am still on the pot thing (not smoking, I mean the other ablution disgusting thing). The house is a national museum and termites walk in and out of its brittle walls (mostly constructed of mud and straw) on their way to wherever they go when they party (quite often in the open space between my keyboard keys if I forget to close the notebook's lid). I have my pride you know. But I concede that my pride took a knock when Ilse ended my planned move into the Chicken Coop by grounding me (and taking my wine). Moral of the story: if you want to move into my room I get your room and your passport unless it is Zimbabwean as, in that event, I take your car. And you know what, I am almost done with this website (I delete and re-insert when she comes and goes) and I tell you celebrations will be the order of the day, big time. (And, if she goes and visits her mother again I will move right into the Chicken Coop and you can have the pot.) If you would like to have sight of the insides of the Manor House - including the termites - ask any of the managing staff and we will make a plan - believe it or not, I will open the door without shooting.
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