Summer End

We have had a rotten summer here in the UK. It must be the wettest on record. We did make the most of the odd week of sunshine and grasped greedily at the occasional sunny day, only too aware that summer can be elusive. And we were right.

With an economic turndown and a growing awareness of carbon footprints – well carbon wings – many families took their annual holiday in dear old Blighty this year. By now they will remember why they usually holiday somewhere the weather is more predictable and reliable.

The only benefit has been that the garden has not needed watering. In fact it is looking very, very green. However, the blowsy and pastel colours have now gone from most of the beds and borders: a few roses throw up a welcome colourful bloom and one or two perennials soldier on but that’s about it.

But thank goodness I’ve got my hot bed which has really come into its own: I developed it about five years ago using shrubs from around the garden, interspersing them with perennials. In a year it looked established, now it looks really mature.

The backbone is a purple hazel (Corylus avellana purpurea) which has grown to quite a tree. The purple leaves are a great foil for the green border that is its backdrop and a marvellous foil for the orange and yellow flowering perennials in front of it. A Golden Elder (Sambucus aurea), and Pheasants Eye (Leycesteria formosa) provide dramatic deciduous colour and an evergreen Strawberry Tree (Arbutus unedo) and Mahonia complete the shrubs.

Tall grasses (Miscanthus sinensis, Stipa gigantea and Calamagrotis) and low bronze mounds of Carex comans add movement and lightness whilst a large claret phormium and smaller rust-red cordyline provide strong vertical elements.

In July, in between yellow and orange daisies of rudbeckias and heleniums, orange day lilies and red hot pokers provided bright splashes of colour. For ground cover there were mounds of flowering geraniums and Lady’s mantle and a very thick layer of wood chippings, weathered to a pleasing dark brown.

But now, when everything else in the garden is looking faded and sad, the dead-headed daisies and geraniums in the hot border are beginning to flower again and the silver feather grass has beautiful silky heads. And suddenly some bright beacons burst into flower too, warm enough to cheer a failing heart: bright flame coloured crocosmia makes a stunning statement, lime green eucomis looks wonderfully exotic and a beautiful late-flowering toffee coloured kniphofia is elegant and unusual.

And these all remind me so much of days out at Kirstenbosch - the South African world famous botanical garden in Cape Town - that I find my spirits lifting despite the wet and grey skies. Summer is ending with a splash - in every way!

Lucy
www.lucyannwrites.blogspot.com

Cape Town Character

I've just returned from Cape Town which, inevitably, means eating and drinking too much (some of the best food and wine in the world, well, what can you do?) and visiting all my favourite places. Not the touristy sites but those that have drop-dead gorgeous landscapes and architecture or areas that have character - not tourist pastiche but real character, warts and all.


I've drawn comparisons with the latter before: Long Street with its Melbourne buildings and St Kilda style has a cosmopolitan atmosphere, ethnic shops and surviving culture. Kalk Bay, all Brighton boho with it's junk and arty shops and café's. OK, so they're just a wee bit faded, but they're not jaded, not at all. In fact they're more buzzy than ever: that extra confidence gained from the influx of visitors' cash means some new shops have opened and a café or two. Nothing as bold as a lick of paint, of course: don't want to try too hard and lose the "I'm too smart to dress up" charm.

And there's Muizenberg - seaside resort of yesteryear - with its Herbert Baker buildings and a beach to die for. The stretch of coast from there to Kalk Bay on the western coast of the peninsular was the place for Capetonians to holiday a hundred years ago: the arrival of the railway meant that everyone could afford a day trip at least. And for those who had the luxury of a week long holiday there were plenty of hotels and guest houses to suit every pocket along the coast of False Bay.

When the billionaire, Cecil Rhodes, bought a seaside cottage at St James – between Muizenberg and Kalk Bay - it was as good a nod as a wink to the wealthy: here was a healthy fashionable place to escape the hot and dusty summer heat of the interior. And they brought their money with them to build their seaside houses, to pay the fees for the bowling greens and the tennis club and to patronize the hotel restaurants.

On Muizenberg beach the white sand stretches as far as the eye can see: the water is warm enough to swim in and the waves gentle enough for novice surfers. Surprisingly perhaps, nearly a hundred years ago bathers in their long legged bathing suits strode out to sea to surf on short wooden boards: today the surfers are there in droves, all body-hugging rubber, high-tech fibreglass and four wheel drives.

Old postcards show children taking donkey rides or building sandcastles on Muizenberg beach, whilst mothers looked on with concern or pride: just like any modern seaside. The smart new wooden Pavilion that was built in 1911 had "every comfort and convenience": wash-room and changing facilities and a large tea room. And along the beach stilted wooden bathing huts – painted in a variety of colours – were built. Then a smart stone railway station was commissioned to announce that Muizenberg was on the map.

But the 1930's was probably its apogee: a larger pavilion replaced the wooden one - with more dressing cubicles, a larger tea room, theatre and dance hall – but it was not a success for a variety of reasons. Many of the hotels and buildings were taken over by the Government or troops during the Second World War and afterwards it suffered the steady decline that happened to English seaside towns.

But there's another beach Pavilion now, and owners of the new apartments and houses that have been built in the last couple of years want all the fun trappings of a seaside resort. So it's only a matter of time until Muizenberg is on the map again. In the meantime I'll continue to marvel at the beach from high above on Boyes Drive. I'll still visit the flea markets of Long Street and eat fish cooked to perfection straight from the harbour in Kalk Bay. And I'll hope that none of my favourite places become too popular too fast.

Lucy
www.lucyannwrites.blogspot.com
lucy.ann.white@hotmail.co.uk

Historical Fiction and Real Life

For some, 'historical fiction' is that set upto the 19th century but actually anything set over a hundred years ago - or now pre-1945 – comes within the genre. But whichever period a story is set in, one of the facets that a writer of historical fiction is concerned with is historical accuracy.

When a novel has a glowing write-up (like an excellent reviewer from Historical Novels Review gave A Little Blue Jacket this month!) the author is likely to be on cloud nine: but clouds are insubstantial things. It can be down to earth with a bump if a reviewer criticizes areas of the work that the writer thinks unfair.

Once an author has published a novel it's out there to have its bones picked over by anyone. Criticism of style or structure is a very subjective thing – one man's meat is another man's poison – but historical accuracy can be checked.

Most authors of historical fiction go to great lengths to ensure historical, geographical and social facts are researched but it is amazing how often the reader is surprised by either lifestyles or words currently in use at the time, altered locations or historical views.

Given the chance, most authors are able to explain the historical context and back up their facts (certainly in the large format of my novel A Little Blue Jacket I included extensive historical notes as even local South Africans told me they knew little of SA history after 1900 and before 1950) and so give the reader a chance to follow up research for themselves.

Many historical facts had to be cross-referenced for my novel as what appears obvious is not always the case. For example - the original Malay houses around Bo Kaap have not, contrary to popular belief, been repainted in their original pastel colours: they were originally white. After frenzied building a hundred years ago Victorian buildings in Cape Town outnumbered Cape Dutch ones and the architect 'darling' of the time, who was building in the vernacular style there, was in fact British: Herbert Baker, partner of Edwin Lutyens.

Fish Hoek is now a thriving small town but a hundred years ago was little more than a few fishing cottages: the Martello tower of Simon's Town is now little more than a ruin. On Muizenberg sands the tin hut of 1905 is long gone, replaced as it was by a grand pavilion in 1913, along with the charming stilted beach huts that are so well known today.

Similarly, the writer of historical fiction has to make sure of geographical facts that may send readers reaching for their street map or atlas. To demonstrate: in Cape Town, Roggebaai (present spelling) with its jetty is now reclaimed land – old street names bear testimony to its previous bounds - and many names of streets and squares have since been changed in tune with society.

Political and social facts too can be authenticated. Those living in Johannesburg today may find it difficult to believe that a hundred years ago Indians and Malays were allowed to buy properties in new residential districts of Cape Town: apartheid has so dominated South Africa in the recent past that many cannot believe that in the Western Cape a hundred years ago there was no apartheid and were no pass laws.

This is what was meant when those in the Western Cape were described as 'colour blind': today reference to this might be interpreted as a politically correct view but it is, indeed, a fact. Certainly among the British in the Western Cape, Malays were sought out as house servants and treated, on the whole, well: indeed many of the female servants became close confidantes of the mistress of the house.

History is written by people and of course can be re-written to suit, but there is much that cannot be disagreed with. A writer can point out historical facts to dissenters, and back up social facts with contemporaneous sources used, but little can be done to countermand ingrained prejudice or ignorance on the behalf of a reader or critic.

But, when all's said and done, most authors of historical fiction are not historians: they are writers of fiction. And, like all fiction writers, they can invent characters and places. They can also manipulate actual events and dates to serve fictional purposes: they can choose to write their story in the spirit of the time or be exact in every detail.

Or writers can marry the two: for example, I made a choice when writing my novel not to make the speech as stilted as it may have been but to observe speech patterns and the odd words of regional dialect used at the time instead. This involved considerable research as words used today – or understood today – are not necessarily those of the period in which the book was set: it's a device that can give the book a sense of period as well as place.

And, for myself, some of the personal facts on which I based the story of A Little Blue Jacket no-one can dispute: my grandmother was born in the Cape and, orphaned, was brought up by her sister and her Malay nurse of whom she was very fond. Without 'giving away' the story (and it is fiction), the least likely and most dramatic events that happen in it are actually true: that old adage that real life is often more surprising than fiction.

Lucy
http://www.lucyannwrites.blogspot.com

Kirstenbosch - Botanical Excellence

When the weather is wet and gloomy here and I can't out into the garden my thoughts immediately turn to South Africa, sunshine and the glorious landscape. One place I always visit there is Kirstenbosch, the country's premier botanical garden.

When Cecil Rhodes died in 1902 he left his farm - part of his Groot Schuur estate - to the nation. In 1913 the site became the first South African botanical garden devoted to indigenous plants: set on the eastern slopes of Table Mountain, the garden is in an incomparable position and is open an impressive 375 days a year.

Locals tend to use the garden as a park either for hiking up the eastern face of the mountain or for outdoor summer concerts and picnics. But all visitors enjoy the art exhibited by local artists and the sculptures in the garden and I believe bird-watching is quite a popular pastime.

Because of the wealth of the vegetation birds are everywhere in the gardens: guinea fowl and geese are always there and I've seen sugarbirds and sunbirds, bulbuls and even kestrels and kites. To find out from a real bird expert that's been to Kirstenbosch visit www.charliesbirdblog.com

But it's the planting that is the real star: there are 89 acres under cultivation and plants are grouped together according to type, all of them indigenous. This is not the norm for many botanical gardens, some of which choose to grow unusual plants from different countries and continents. So the ethos of Kirstenbosch - indigenous sustainable planting - was far ahead of its time.

Water from natural mountain springs feed the garden, several of which meet in the first area to be cleared: a small pond was built there and the surroundings were planted with, among other things, tree ferns and a collection of yellowwood trees.

One of the Western Cape's most famous group of plants are the native fine bush - fynbos - which are hard, small leaved shrubs that can withstand wind and even fire and these feature widely in the gardens.

Other species are grown according to habitat: by the main pond cycads grow, a fossil of the plant world; succulents that prosper in the Karoo are in the rockery. The medicinal garden has herbs and healing plants used throughout the Cape; a braille trail is planted with fragrant plants and the upper slopes show off the country's national flowers, proteas.

If you visit the website http://www.sanbi.org you can find out about all the species grown there and see the wonderful scenery for yourself. Although the website pictures beautiful scenes it is a fact that many indigenous plants are not showy - except the short lived carpets of one species - so don't expect to see the colourful, overflowing perennial and annual borders of western Europe at Kirstenbosch.

But what you will see are the individual species that make up a large proportion of our herbaceous beds: these are such a large part of our gardening heritage now that we quite overlook that so many come from South Africa.

Gladioli, asters, ericas and many members of the lily family hail from South Africa: red-hot poker, agapanthus, freesias, anemone blanda, pelargoniums, amaryllis and many, many more are all plants we associate with European or American gardens yet this flora is indigenous to the Cape.

In the West we are being introduced to those plants that have for centuries been valued and used by South Africans as herbal remedies and infusions. The most famous is probably a native fynbos, rooibos: redbush tea is caffeine free and has various medicianl benefits. Another is hoodia, a native plant that is now grown commercially as a drug.

So perhaps this is an example where we can learn from South Africa. From its inception Kirstenbosch has championed sustainable planting, been involved in research that develops beneficial products and many children regularly benefit from the educational programmes there: botanical excellence.

Lucy
http://lucyannwrites.blogspot.com

PS To see a photo of Rhodes farm circa 1900 visit www.alittlebluejacket.com, on The Story page scroll down to Excerpts and find it there.

Book Note: a small niche-market publishing company in Cape Town - Fernwood Press - produces some beautiful reference books on southern Africa's culture and natural history. There are wonderfully illustrated books about landscape and ecology (including, surprise, one entitled Kirstenbosch), the animal world, African art and artists and various memoirs.

Mailships of the Union-Castle Line is one of their publications that I should like to read because my family sailed regularly between Durban and Cape Town -and sometimes to England - on Union-Castle ships.

Visit http://www.fernwoodpress.co.za to find out about their other publications.

Cape Town Here I Come

This week-end is the Cape Town Book Fair and, not surprisingly, my thoughts are there along with my novel, A Little Blue Jacket, even if I'm not: mind you, the environs of Cape Town are so beautiful that it's not a difficult place to dream oneself into.

Writing the book - which is based on my grandmother's young adult life – I was very keen to get not only my historical and geographical facts right but also to imbue the novel with a real sense of place.

So to address the last two in particular I did a lot of walking in Cape Town and, whilst Best Beloved heroically drove where indicated, I photographed all the places my grandmother and therefore my protagonists lived, worked or visited.

Although set a hundred years ago, a reader will still be able to recognise the streets that my characters tread: many of the civic buildings still stand in Adderley Street and Long Street – a little tattier now but improving - is as eclectic as ever.

In the 1900s the balconies of the buildings with their decorative ironwork, the wide avenues and squares, the public gardens of Cape Town were redolent of other coastal towns across the globe - whether Melbourne, Boston, Amsterdam or Bournemouth.

Cape Town was an amalgam of architectural styles – Cape Dutch, colonial, Victorian – and along with it was a very cosmopolitan population. Greek, Polish, Portuguese, British, Dutch, Huguenot, Malay, African, Indian – you name it – they were there.

Many were there as manual workers, others as administrators or in military service; some were fleeing pogroms or came looking for a new and exciting life. The list goes on but all appreciated the extraordinary beauty of the Cape landscape and the mildness of the climate.

Fewer, like my grandmother, were born in the Cape: one such elderly lady who still lives in Cape Town read the book when it first came out and told me that it described exactly what it was like when she was a girl. She was thrilled with the memories it evoked and I was thrilled to think that my parents had recalled things correctly and my research had paid off.

However, she then told me how she remembered the old man who kept his cow on Green Point Common. Every morning she had walked there with a pail, he had milked the cow, and back home she had tottered with the milk.

I did wonder how many bugs and dust ended up in the milk and whether much of it got home at all but I was also a bit disappointed: if I'd known such a charming local detail it could have been incorporated somewhere in my book.

But that's what happens with research: you finish an article (admittedly editing out much and using only a tiny percent of material) and send it off just to find a really fascinating, useful or essential piece of information. Fortunately, the effect of most articles is fleeting and not there too long to frustrate with omissions or embarrass with any errors.

With a book it's much worse: words or phrases you'd like to correct or improve on will sit there on the page, a taunt forever. A good editor can really help but nowadays this service is not always extensive: which is why many authors spend as much time re-working and checking facts themselves as actually writing.

When I started writing A Little Blue Jacket – over five years ago – I almost exclusively used books, libraries and contemporaneous sources when researching: since then the amount of information available online has increased a thousand fold.

Now I can use the internet to check all sorts or unrelated or obscure facts: I can ask a question of someone on the other side of the world before I make a coffee and have an answer before I've had time to drink it.

But it's only a quick and handy tool: my reference books sit there on the shelf behind me, always to hand, not reliant on electricity or time zones. And, of course, as I start my next book it's essential that I visit the setting for a little on site research: what a stroke of luck that it will start in Cape Town.

Lucy
http://www.lucyannwrites.blogspot.com
www.alittlebluejacket.com
lucy.ann.white@hotmail.co.uk