Yes, it’s me and the grapes again. For some bizarre and certain reasons we decided this last weekend to tackle the wine lands in as far as the Hex River Valley. http://www.hexrivervalley.co.za/ I was hoping to find the patchwork of vineyards of the various autumn- coloured leaves. Well, due to certain time constraints etc. we ended up in the hea[r]t and soul of one of the many “furnaces” available in the Western Cape. Phheeewww, is still a mild form of expression. Hot, bothered, mesmerized and confused I sheepishly ask hubby:”what’s with all the table grapes, there are still tons hanging on the vine and the leaves are proudly displaying their greens of green ?”…They hide these special grapes from the shelves of the city folk as these are all for the export market. {go figure}.

We feel like stalkers as we investigate accommodation on a “zimmer frei” {room available} kind of concept as some paths lead you into the depth of really private wine farms towards the slated Karoo mountains. All to no avail as the valley happens to be full of grape inspectors? That was some serious grape packing happening there, on a Saturday, in the heat…

Our exploration continues and contemplating further off the beaten tracks back to the Worcester area in pursuit of a farm getaway kind of thing. It’s not that easy anymore the romance of the search for good , friendly, wholehearted plaashuis {farmhouse} accommodation is disappearing as everyone is climbing on the fancy 4 to 5 star bandwagon for tourists.

Going through Worcester,nope,{ its so busy here just like a small city}slowly having the urge to throw our toys out of the cot and thinking of heading home. There in front of us it just popped up, in another very small dorp { village} Rawsonville. That big, green I for Information centre. Oops, its closed but wait a very descriptive map on display with all the necessary info, that’s a welcome start…Ahh, we in luck, must have been the tired desperation in my voice accompanied with a peculiar German accent in the Afrikaans language via the cell phone waves.

Memorize the map and away we go. Oops, we can’t find it, hubby says we too far, I say it's here on this road, had to turn around and we passed it, so inconspicuous, no fan fare just small letters.

What a place, original Dutch gabled homestead.

Meet the very friendly owner and she says we must follow her with the car; oh no I can’t handle more strange surprises.

Few more vineyards further and hiding behind shady, old oak trees another beautiful original homestead.

Oh wow, this to ourselves, a whole big old farmhouse to get lost in, high ceilings, wooden floorboards, big bathrooms lovely cool due to thick walls that have a whole history to tell. Check all the lovely attention to good old fashioned country house detail.

Finally, we can relax. Sweet wine from the farm, homemade rusks, attention to comfort, a home from home and it feels like you’ve been having a whole weekend already. Just switch off and enjoy the hustle and bustle of the country, birds, sunsets, clear open starry skies, sunrises unwinding to all the little things that count….