It Is, However, Quite A Delusion To Think
Of Living Out Of Doors, Here; The South-Easters Keep One In Nearly,
If Not Quite, Half One's Time, And In Summer They Say The Sun Is
Too Hot To Be Out Except Morning And Evening.
But I doubt that,
for they make an outcry about heat as soon as it is not cold.
The
transitions are so sudden, that, with the thermometer at 76
degrees, you must not go out without taking a thick warm cloak; you
may walk into a south-easter round the first spur of the mountain,
and be cut in two. In short, the air is cold and bracing, and the
sun blazing hot; those whom that suits, will do well. I should
like a softer air, but I may be wrong; when there is only a
moderate wind, it is delicious. You walk in the hot sun, which
makes you perspire a very little; but you dry as you go, the air is
so dry; and you come in untired. I speak of slow walking. There
are no hot-climate diseases; no dysentery, fever, &c.
Simon's Bay, 18th Nov. - I came on here in a cart, as I felt ill
from the return of the cold weather. While at Rathfelder we had a
superb day, and the J-s drove me over to Constantia, which deserves
all its reputation for beauty. What a divine spot! - such kloofs,
with silver rills running down them! It is useless to describe
scenery. It was a sort of glorified Scotland, with sunshine,
flowers, and orange-groves. We got home hungry and tired, but in
great spirits. Alas! next day came the south-easter - blacker,
colder, more cutting, than ever - and lasted a week.
The Walkers came over on horseback, and pressed me to go to them.
They are most kind and agreeable people. The drive to Simon's Bay
was lovely, along the coast and across five beaches of snow-white
sand, which look like winter landscapes; and the mountains and bay
are lovely.
Living is very dear, and washing, travelling, chemist's bills - all
enormous. Thirty shillings a cart and horse from Rathfelder here -
twelve miles; and then the young English host wanted me to hire
another cart for one box and one bath! But I would not, and my
obstinacy was stoutest. If I want cart or waggon again, I'll deal
with a Malay, only the fellows drive with forty Jehu-power up and
down the mountains.
A Madagascar woman offered to give me her orphan grandchild, a
sweet brown fairy, six years old, with long silky black hair, and
gorgeous eyes. The child hung about me incessantly all the time I
was at Rathfelder, and I had a great mind to her. She used to
laugh like baby, and was like her altogether, only prettier, and
very brown; and when I told her she was like my own little child,
she danced about, and laughed like mad at the idea that she could
look like 'pretty white Missy'.
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