Jenny Burrell

It’s Monday morning. It’s grey, foggy and raining. I was expecting someone to fix our shower at 9:00 am this morning. It’s 10:15 am and still no one has arrived! I’ve left a message on his answer phone, civil, but couldn’t quite hide some of my irritation!

I was hoping to be out of the house by now, visiting my mother (also to check up that she has been bathed and dressed) and doing some Christmas shopping. My fancy weather app has told me that the rain will stop by lunch time so I’ll be able to get out for a walk. Look how positive I am, believing my weather app and still expecting the plumber! On the plus side I have finished the ironing so not all bad!

I spent a whole day in Chester last week in the vain hope that I would do all my Christmas shopping. I also need an outfit for a Christmas party next week. Surprisingly, I drove home with a few groceries, a chocolate Father Christmas for my mother and my husband’s camera that can’t be fixed. A day wasted and my self esteem in tatters! The clothes on the high street do nothing for me and the mirrors in the changing rooms even less!

I started my day with a coffee and a list, which I expanded as I sat and people watched. I felt quite positive, albeit someone who has an allergy to shopping, no imagination regarding Christmas presents and hates trying on clothes. I had all day to do a proper shop and I do love Chester, so was going home with everything ticked off my list!

I did really try! I started off with the clothes shopping. I decided on a blouse to minimise the choice and concentrate on one item. I have a number of pairs of black trousers so gave myself an hour. Three hours later and ready for lunch, I was still without a blouse and feeling frustrated and in urgent need of a sugar fix!

That was my next challenge! 1:30 pm and everyone in Chester had decided to go for lunch! I finally found a table and a bowl of gluten free soup in M&S. A compromise, but food. The gf bun was warm and moist so not like a piece of cardboard. I read through my list. I don’t know why I scratched around for a pen because there was nothing to delete and I certainly wasn’t going to add anything!

But I did have to chuckle when I thought about my visit to a popular clothes store! Animal print is everywhere. I saw a blouse worth a try and wandered around looking for others. If I’m going to try clothes on I might as well have a choice of more than one! That was when I found a definite ‘maybe’. It was black with gold stripes and looked as if it was in two parts. It was, but there was a join on the shoulders and really awkward to get on. But I persevered and was disappointed to see that there was a tear down the one side. It was also a bit tight and looked better on the hanger!

There followed a nightmare! The tear must have been the result of the last person who tried it on! It was almost impossible to get off! I got as far as both my arms above my head and the blouse covering my face. I was well and truly stuck! I tried not to panic. If I got it on it had to come off. And I’ve been in this situation before! I took a few deep breaths. There were a number of peopling milling around outside the change rooms. I was tempted to push through the curtain, if I could fine the opening, and ask for help. I heard a man’s voice talking to a woman in the next cubicle. There was no way I was going to expose myself to any man! I had to get out of this predicament myself!

Frantic now and really annoyed that I was wasting time I tugged at the garment with my right hand. I heard a loud ripping noise as the garment moved higher and eventually over my head. I shook my arms free and noticed that the tear was quite a bit longer! I hung the blouse up losing all interest in trying on the others. I wanted to get out and breathe in the fresh air!

The plumber has just arrived and there is a tiny piece of blue just visible between the grey clouds. The shower will soon be fixed and I’ll soon be out having my walk. The power of positive thinking! 👠

Yesterday, being Wednesday, my friend and I went to the care home to give the residents their weekly exercise class. We made our own way there so I went a bit earlier to spend time with Mum. I had chosen the music so was prepared.

However, I wasn’t prepared to see Mum sitting in the foyer in her nightie, her handbag on her lap, looking as if she was about to go out. The red mist was instantaneous! I found a carer in one of the rooms and voiced my serious concern! I was told that Mum had refused to wash or get dressed so they had to move on to the next resident and would get back to her!

Once more this issue has raised its ugly head! I am bombarded with information about civil liberties, personal dignity, human rights or humane treatment of residents where force cannot be used under any circumstances! So what do you do if the resident in question is sitting in the foyer, a few feet from the front door, wearing only a nightie and soiled underwear? You can’t force them to the bathroom but surely there are other ways to get them cleaned and dressed every day?

I had to get ready for the exercise class and could see that the sitting room was filling up and my friend had arrived. I took Mum to her room and started dressing her. I wasn’t going to wash her so found the carer I had spoken to earlier. She was on her way to help Mum so let her take over.

It was when I had plugged in the docking station and was ready for the class that I spotted the assistant manger. I was still very upset but tried to calmly explain what had happened. I asked how long they had planned to leave my mother and how often this was happening? But my main concern was why no one had spent time gently tying to persuade Mum to get washed and dressed! I know Mum is still feisty and often stubborn but how far do you take civil liberties when dealing with someone with dementia? The reason why Mum is in a care home is because she cannot look after herself. She also needs a good level of hygiene to prevent recurring urinary tract infections which have dogged her for years?

The assistant manager was very apologetic. Apparently this does happen but he promised me that it didn’t happen often and never lasting as long as this morning. Unfortunately they were nursing an ‘end of life’ patient who had not received any family or friends to sit with him. It’s the care home’s policy never to leave ‘end of life’ patients on their own so they were battling with two staff down.

So this is something else I have to keep an eye on! I’ll stagger my visiting times to ensure that Mum is washed and dressed every morning to prevent her going to the dining room for her breakfast in her nightie! My proud, smart, very prudish mother would have been mortified!

I feel so sorry for all the residents who never receive visitors! Mum is in a good care home but none are perfect. Carers are only human, very badly paid and most of the time feel they are doing a thankless job. However, there is no excuse for bad treatment of any resident! So my mother’s dementia has dropped another level and will only get worse.

A resident passed away this week from a heart attack. She was only in the very early stages of dementia. There was understandable shock and sadness. At least the poor woman never lost her dignity and her family were spared the pain of watching their beloved mother sink slowly down into the hideous abyss which is this evil, debilitating, incurable disease. 👠

We spent last weekend with my mother-in-law. What a nightmare journey! An accident on the M62 had ground it to a halt. I usually nod off in the car (when I’m not driving) but with all the stopping and starting and my husband becoming more and more irate, I stayed awake for the entire journey. It lasted three hours instead of one and a half.

I was kept informed about all the idiots on the road! I also became very concerned about the state of my husband’s health! By the time we reached his mother’s house he was hoarse. I’m sure he must have also had cramp in both hands from clutching hold of the steering wheel or hand signalling to the ‘morons’ as we sped past! So it was with huge relief that I sat down and nursed a gin and tonic on our arrival. There followed a delicious meal and a hot bath, so the winter sun set on a very stressed and exhausting Friday night and Saturday morning dawned, following the same foggy, cold, wet trend.

My mother-in-law had invited two of her nieces and one of their husbands for lunch. They had all retired, a consultant, a GP and a physiotherapist so my husband was in good hands if the after effects of Friday night’s journey had required medical care! The retired consultant only stayed for a coffee before going to open the bicycle charity shop he runs with a partner. People donate their old bicycles. These are given a thorough MOT before being resold, given to asylum seekers or to those out of work. My husband’s cousin is very passionate about this project and doing a fantastic job giving back to society and filling some of his spare time.

Chatting to these two cousins, whom I’ve known for years but only met at rare family gatherings, was enlightening. One cousin had lived in America for many years but moved back to Yorkshire after the death of her husband. My husband’s uncle had four daughters and my husband is the eldest of three sons. I have heard many amusing tales of the seven of them growing up together, all from the three sons, so all one-sided! We’ll definitely visit a lot more once my husband becomes a ‘gentleman of leisure’ at the end of January. I have been warned that he will sleep throughout February (he is always tired!) and we’ll have a holiday in March. Something to look forward to as the grey, dank, mizzling days of winter settle in and the sun goes away forever …….

I am now in week four of being ‘home alone’. I still hear noises and stick my head under the duvet until the need to breathe overtakes my fear of seeing a nocturnal visitor. I listen to Classic FM and leave the house looking like a Christmas tree when I go to bed. I’m on book number three and ensure I do the easy Telegraph crossword puzzles every night. These used to put me to sleep but now seem to have the opposite effect!

Speak to you soon …….👠

Yesterday my mother was so sad. The difference from last Thursday was stark. A carer and I had taken Mum for tea, joined by Elvis Presley to liven up the journey. Mum had leaned back in her seat, eyes closed, singing along with her hero. Sometimes she would stop and question his words! ‘A wooden heart? Jenny, what’s a wooden heart?’

But Mum was happy last week. She looked relaxed, wrinkle free and loved everyone. Yesterday was so different. Mum wasn’t agitated, which could be an early sign of a urinary tract infection. She was just seriously down in the dumps. I watched her leave her room and walk slowly along the corridor. She looked up and saw me. No usual quick smile of recognition, just a sigh when she whispered my name.

it was Monday and Mum’s hair obviously hadn’t been done. I found a carer and we went to the office to check the balance in her account. She could have paid for the entire care home’s hairdos so lack of funds wasn’t the reason! Mum had decided not to get her hair washed. Civil liberties and human rights prevent carers from using any kind of physical force, but gentle persuasion usually helps. I wasn’t there so can’t pass comment!

Getting to the bottom of the reason for her depression yesterday was nigh on impossible. Mum speaks English, but not as we do. This awful disease has jumbled her words and she has lost the ability to make herself understood. So it was with great difficulty that I spent the next two hours trying to find out what had happened to cause this upset.

We sat in different parts of the living rooms as Mum couldn’t settle. As certain residents joined us she passed comments, words not understood but the look on her face showed whether she liked or disliked them! Eventually Mum asked me to go to that place, pointing to the corridor. I followed her and she walked very slowly to her room.

Mum pushed open the door and I was very surprised to see how sparse it looked. She is light-fingered, another common symptom of dementia! But yesterday there were no signs of the usual ad hoc birthday cards, little toys or sweets she had ‘found’ on her travels. Her room was immaculate. Mum shuffled a few things around her dressing table, muttering to herself. The carers sometimes have to go through Mum’s cupboards and clear out the old newspapers and magazines to make space for her clothes. They do this on a Tuesday when she is out on a weekly trip. This was Monday and her cupboards were a mess.

I asked Mum if she was worried about something. The word ‘worry’ seemed to resonate with her. ‘I think I should be worried’ Mum told me. ‘I don’t think I should be here. I should be at home’. Her words were spontaneous and concise. Her eyes, usually dull, looked alive. Mum stared up at me, my old Mum, back from her living hell, perplexed and confused. I gave her a big hug. Mum is not a frail little old lady. Physically she is robust and quite sturdy. She didn’t hug me back. I let her go and saw, once more, the pair of brown, dull, lifeless eyes. Alas, in that split second, Mum had taken that step back into her twilight world.

As soon as I got home I rang the manager. I thought something must have happened to cause Mum’s earlier upset. Nothing had been reported. Physically Mum looked well. I visit regularly so that I can keep an eye on her. The staff know me and I try to help where I can. I do sometimes have to voice my concerns but always try to be constructive as I know a carer’s job is not easy!

So yesterday was probably another symptom of this inhuman disease. It brings torture to the sufferer by allowing brief moments of lucidity and leaves family and loved ones heartbroken. A living hell on earth. Please God, let us find a cure. 👠

Last Thursday I bit the bullet and had my eyebrows tattooed! I have never had lush eyebrows and have spent many years of my life creating a ‘perfect pair’ every morning!

When I worked I would set the alarm half an hour earlier to paint my eyes, primarily to manufacture eyebrows with minimal assistance. I produced my own version with a dark brown pencil and have stuck to that shape for the last thirty years.

So, last Thursday, after waiting for almost three months for an appointment, I painted my eyebrows for the last time (so that the woman could find them!) and drove to the little beauty parlour just outside the village. I was still not sure if I wanted to go ahead with the procedure.

Rebecca asked me to sit up straight at the end of the bed, eyes closed. My current eyebrows were removed with the sweep of a wet wipe. ‘That’s not your natural shape’ I was told. I was surprised that there were enough hairs to see any shape! ‘I’m going to draw eyebrows for you and we can work from there’ Rebecca said, the sound of the pencil almost grating in my ears.

I looked in the mirror. I hardly recognised the face staring back at me! I saw two brown slugs languishing above each eye! Rebecca explained how she measured the eyebrow from the inside and the outside of each eye. She remarked that eyebrows weren’t twins, they were sisters. No two were identical! After a few minimal tweeks I lay down and the process began.

Rebecca spread an analgesic cream on each eyebrow and explained the process, detailing what will happen over the next seven days. I can’t get them wet and must avoid touching them. They will form small scabs which will drop off (great!). The defined strokes will soften and my eyebrows will look natural. After a month I return to have them perfected, filling in any gaps and thickening up where required. Every year I go for a ‘top up’. And, hey presto, that is how I will become the proud owner of a pair of no maintenance eyebrows, sisters, not twins!

This is Monday morning. My eyebrows itched through the night. They look darker than last week and I have to remember not to touch them. My hair will not be washed tonight but will have to make do until Thursday. I’m getting used to the slugs on my face and am hopeful that the defined strokes will soon morph into delicate hairs, lush and natural!

I’ll keep you posted! 👠

I need to get out and have a walk every day. As the weather deteriorates this is going to become more challenging! Even just half an hour of fresh air and exercise is all I ask! I thought it was only the weather that would stop me but the other day something else happened which initially caused me some concern.

A couple of days a week I make myself soup for lunch in the fancy soup maker my colleagues gave me when I became a ‘lady of leisure’. All I have to do is chop up the vegetables, add water and a stock cube, turn it on and, half an hour later, I have a delicious meal. There is about a three kilometre walk starting in the lane at the bottom of my garden and I can do this in about half an hour. It’s up a steep hill so I do a power walk, get my pulse racing and breathe in delicious fresh air.

The other morning I grabbed the moment when there was a blue patch in the sky and the rain had given way to a brief sunny spell. The rain had left everything looking so fresh and I inhaled deeply, enjoying the clear, clean air . I felt so fortunate to be outside on a weekday morning when friends and ex colleagues were sitting at their desks in stuffy offices breathing in stale air.

it was then that I saw an old car parked very close to a farm gate at the end of the wood. It was quite dark but I saw five men wearing hoodies shuffling around, very intimidating. I wasn’t sure whether I should turn back or soldier on. But I decided that I wasn’t going to let these people stop me so, looking straight ahead, I marched past them. One shouted a greeting, I replied but didn’t turn around.

With my heart pounding I continued up the hill, walking even faster than usual so had begun to pant quite heavily! A young man with a baby in a pram and two elderly people walked past me. Another car with two women in dark clothing turned the corner and drove down the hill. The plot thickened! A short while later I heard two gun shots!

My vivid imagination went into overdrive. I decided that they were some kind of cult and had murdered someone and thrown their body into the wood. I began to panic, wondering how I could get home without walking past the cars. It would have meant a big detour and I had to be at a yoga class within the next couple of hours.

So I marched on up the hill, turned left down another little lane which led back into the one that would take me past the cars and back home. I saw another couple who cheerfully greeted me and had survived walking past the ‘hoodies’ so I took a deep breath and turned right!

The cars had gone! I peered over the gate and couldn’t see any body or any sign that one had been dragged along the bushes. There was just a tyre track at the side of the road. They had left no other evidence!

I got home in record time! The soup tasted delicious. I subsequently heard that police had been made aware of drug dealing at a couple of places in the neighbourhood. They were extending their patrols. The gun shots are common because farmers shoot rabbits and pigeons so hearing the two shots had been a ‘red herring’.

I am not letting this episode blight my walks! I am hopeful that this was a ‘one off’ and won’t happen again. I usually see other people out enjoying the fresh air and getting exercise. I’ll be one of those people, weather permitting only! 👠

Yesterday was a good day. I woke up early, had breakfast and was ready to walk to the clubhouse for an exercise class at 10:00 am. No, I hadn’t had a lazy morning! I had dusted and vacuumed upstairs. I had emptied the bins, sent a few text messages and replied to a few emails. The house was tidy for my husband’s return and I had survived my first week ‘home alone’!

After the exercise class I walked home and got ready to meet a friend for coffee, a thirty five minute drive away. There was rain forecast and I drove through a small shower which had cleared by the time I arrived at the coffee shop. Because my friend still works we had a limited time to catch up on all the latest office gossip before she had to rush off to a meeting.

That left me two hours to drive to the outlet village, have lunch (as all LOL’s do!) and get to the care home to spend time with my mother before they have their late afternoon supper. I decided to go to Marks and Spencer because they have a good gluten free selection. However, all the retired people living in and around Cheshire had decided to go to M&S for lunch as well! The place was heaving! I had chosen this week because all the schools had finished their mid term holidays so expected the shops to be relatively empty. But retired people still have to shop and it is obvious that this is how most of them spend a Thursday afternoon!

I couldn’t waste an hour, at least, of my life waiting for a seat in the main dining area so popped downstairs to the smaller cafe. There was still a queue but, because I was on my own and happy to sit at the bar, they pushed me through. I chose a turkey, stuffing and coleslaw sandwich (there were only three sandwiches left, all the same) so my choice was restricted! I propped myself up at the bar, ate my lunch and watched as the queue began to stretch into the main shopping area as lunchtime merged into afternoon tea.

Eating lunch on my own was not ideal and going at 1:30 pm was not ideal either! But it did leave me time to browse around some of the shops. When I worked I was always in a hurry and browsing was not something that I ever did. It was always a manic rush trying to find an outfit for a specific occasion or, if I did see an item of clothing I really liked, I would buy it in every colour! I hate shopping! The change rooms always have the worst mirrors and lighting, bizarrely, because you would think that clothes shops would ensure mirrors were flattering and lighting subdued! Not rocket science, just good marketing!

My mother was in good spirits. She was having tea and biscuits when I arrived and decided that it would be better to stay near the trolley than go to her room. We found a sofa in one of the sitting areas and I painted Mum’s nails and chatted to the care manager and her assistant, both doing their rounds.

I got home the same time as my husband. He only works a four day week to prepare for his ‘retirement’ so left him with instructions for our evening meal. I got changed and headed off to meet a friend and walk up to the clubhouse to do the circuit class. Two exercise classes in one day! Both completely different yet both equally enjoyable.

I’ll sleep well tonight. Physically exhausted and not worrying about ghosts! Monday is another day!👠

The Holiday is over and life has slotted back into some semblance of ‘normality’. I have my set exercise classes, visit my mother, meet friends for coffee or lunch, go for walks, weather permitting and pay occasional visits to the hairdresser and beauty parlour. I also have to ‘fit in’ housework (ugh!) and gardening 🥀 While my husband is still fully employed I cook the evening meals. I keep busy.

But my life hasn’t fully ‘slotted back to normal’. My husband is working away all week and returning over weekends. This would not be worth a mention for most women, but for me, who has never lived alone, it is a big deal!

I’m not scared of burglars. I’m scared of ghosts! I have been lucky enough to get to this age without having seen one (touching wood!) but have carried this fear around with me for as long as I can remember! I’m blaming my grandmother and great grandmother! They aren’t here to defend themselves!

When I was very young my mother used to take us to visit my great grandmother and great aunt. They lived in a small, very dark house (the curtains were always drawn!) in a tiny village called Highgate, near East London. My great aunt would make my sister, brother and I sit on the kitchen floor and give us diluted orange juice and a biscuit. My brother was her favourite so his drink had more orange than water and he had an extra biscuit!

Sitting on that cold floor I could hear my great grandmother telling my mother all about her ‘visitations’. My mother used to nod and comment when applicable and then, driving home, tell us that there were no such things as ghosts! But I was never convinced!

For a few years, until I was about six or seven, we lived next door to my grandmother who had her mother’s gene. Granny also saw ghosts and ‘things’ and delighted in telling us all about them. Granny would sometimes babysit and we made sure we were at our best behaviour to avoid hearing about dire punishments which would be meted out by someone or, heaven forbid, something!

So that’s my excuse for being such a wimp and I’m sticking to it! I do, however, have ‘survival tactics’. I don’t like the house too dark or too quiet. I leave the downstairs hall light on, keep both the hall, landing and bedroom curtains open to allow for light from the street lamps and leave the radio on ‘Classic FM’! I stay up as late as I can to get really tired before I go to bed.

Unfortunately this morning, at 4:15 am, the announcer decided it was time to play Elgar’s ‘Pomp and Circumstance’. I woke up with a start and lay awake until 6:00 am when the sun began to rise above the hill and light up the wood at the bottom of our garden. The shrill of the alarm at 7:00 am was not ideal but I had an early dentist appointment so reluctantly got up, exhausted!

So I have a new challenge. For the foreseeable future I am going to be on my own during the week. I have no choice so need to get over this phobia and grow up! I’ll keep you posted ….. 👠

It was my granddaughter’s birthday while we were in our chalet in the Drakensberg. My husband and I wanted to contact her but this was going to be easier said than done! Our son and his family live in the US and there was a six hour time difference. It was also a normal school day so that set the time back another seven hours! It meant that we had to be ready for a 9:00 pm call in the main lobby of the hotel to ensure WiFi access. Fortunately luck was on our side and we were able to see and speak to her! Modern technology is marvellous. WhatsApp and FaceTime are a real boon for families living miles apart

On our penultimate day in our little piece of paradise, we all awoke bright and early. My cousin’s husband was playing golf and my cousin, husband and I were off on another hike through the beautiful blue mountain range shimmering in the distance. There was not a cloud in the sky and it was already beginning to feel very warm. We made our way to the next hotel, registered for our chosen trail, paid our fees and set off.

A herd of horses cantered past followed closely by a rider checking for strays. They were in no hurry and we watched as they wound their way through the trees and up the side of the mountain. We were warned that this was a ‘moderate’ walk because there were some awkward paths leading down into the forest. Some of these gravel stretches can be quite treacherous so I was thankful that I had come prepared with my walking stick! My husband found a branch just the right height for my cousin, proudly produced his pocket knife ( a present from our son and his pride and joy!) smoothed the edges and carved a handle. We were soon on our way, ready for any eventuality!

The hike was a challenge but very enjoyable! We got back to the hotel in record time and the woman who had served us when we arrived was amazed that we were back so soon. We had made a detour around the lake so would have returned even earlier!

My cousin had collected a few brochures from reception on the previous evening. One of them advertised afternoon teas and gluten free cakes! We decided that we would pay the tea room a visit as we were all feeling quite peckish after our hike and game of golf! Unfortunately they had sold out of all the gluten free cakes so I had to watch, sipping a lukewarm soft drink, as three people tucked into their gluten filled cakes and cream! Life can be so unfair😪

We went to a small farm shop on our way home and bought four filleted trout for our evening barbecue. A most enjoyable meal was had by all, but especially by me as I was ravenous by the time the trout were cooked! It was our last night in the chalet and we had to make an early start to get to our final destination before heading home.

Once more my cousin’s husband expertly drove us to our hotel just outside Kokstad. The roads were as challenging as usual but driving through the town on a Saturday afternoon brought extra hazards. Navigating our way down the main road trying to avoid pedestrians, stray dogs and cars parked haphazardly was no mean feat!

Our last meal was superb! We sat outside on the verandah and I could imagine the luxurious lifestyle of the colonials in the twenties and thirties, waited on by servants and revelling in the warmth and sunshine, a far cry from the grey skies and cold winters back home!

So, after a fantastic two weeks, meeting family and old school friends, staying in wonderful accommodation and experiencing some of the most beautiful areas of South Africa, we leave a hot East London, sweltering in 30C! Arriving in Manchester to 0C was not ideal but our taxi was on time and we were soon back home, heating on and washing loaded into the machine. All good things must come to an end but I have so many wonderful memories!

It is with sincere thanks to my cousin and her husband who welcomed us into their home and spent two fun-packed weeks with us! A special thank you to my cousin for arranging the holiday and family reunions. I hope that one day I can return the favour but it will be a very hard act to follow! 👠

We loaded up the car and set off on stage two of this unforgettable journey. My cousin’s husband ensured we had sufficient petrol and the rest of us stocked up on water and snacks.

We travelled through Zululand, now part of the new South Africa. There were minimal fences so animals regularly wandered into the road where markings were ignored! Cars shot past on blind rises causing potentially fatal, but luckily for us, near miss collisions. Unbelievable if I hadn’t seen this reckless driving with my own eyes!

We arrived at our destination late in the afternoon and pulled up outside a beautiful chalet. We carried our luggage into our rooms and met outside for a sundowner. It was then that I looked across at one of the most spectacular views I had seen in years! The majestic Drakensberg mountain range stretched before us, slightly hazy which added to its mystique. The sky had begun to turn crimson and a stillness settled over us as we sat in awe, lost in our private thoughts.

We had our own barbecue and ended the day with a delicious meal and plans for my cousin, husband and I to embark on a hike the next morning. Unfortunately we woke up later than planned so, like ‘mad dogs and Englishmen’ went walking in the mid day sun! Only three kilometres were in some kind of shade, the last five were very hot and the most strenuous. But we did it! Our ‘Fitbits’ were happy and we got back to our chalet feeling very smug! We also hadn’t come across any snakes! A huge bonus and a very real fear!

The next morning I looked out of our window to see a cloudless blue sky and the mountains clear and inviting. But today we weren’t going on a hike. My cousin and I went to the spa for a treatment and then, after lunch, we all drove to see the amazing, world class, Drakensberg Boy’s Choir! What an uplifting experience. This holiday just kept on producing more and more delightful surprises!

None of us knew what to expect. We presumed the programme would be primarily classical so a choreographed rendition of ‘Portugal Man’s’ ‘Feel it Still’ was not something we had envisaged! A little boy in the front row was mesmerising. His rhythm was superb and he was obviously thoroughly enjoying himself, as were the rest of the boys. The ‘Gumboot dance’ in the second half was equally enjoyable! We are eternally grateful to my cousin for arranging the booking. In fact, she had arranged this whole wonderful holiday which proved to be faultless!

That evening we sat outside, once more in awe of this magnificent mountain range that stretched as far as the eye could see. The setting sun once more spread its crimson hue across the darkening sky. Tomorrow we would go on another trip of discovery but this time we would make an early start because the heatwave was showing no signs of abating. The coals on the barbecue glowed brightly, emitting a delicious aroma of sizzling meat and wood fumes. I leaned back in my chair, closed my eyes and felt at peace with the world! 👠