I love life's synchronicities.
My friend that I stayed with on Sunday evening loaned me a book (Dear Louisa by Dr R.E. Gordon) that she thought might interest me. With today's adventure of traveling to my location, I am currently sitting with no internet (no power for the third time today). But fortunately I have a bluetooth speaker and am playing my favourite songs while reading her book, which is set in 1850, in Natal.
A family, the McLeods, were on the fated ship, Minerva, that was wrecked while anchored outside Port Natal (D'Urban). They lost all their belongings, clothes and farming implements brought from England to start life in the colony. It was very, very tough in the Byrne Valley near Richmond, and made all the more real because the bnb that I am sitting in, is a working farm that has evidence of the year 1847 scratched into a window pane!
My farm's story reads like this:
James Erasmus Methley came from England and bought 3000 hectares from the Naude brothers, who sold stinkwood trees for general timber needs in the valley. James moved in here, Newstead farm, in 1870. My book story, is a series of letters written by Emily to her sister in England and describes how the stinkwood trees were transported by oxen and a makeshift cart. It was a laboured process, now more real thanks to this book.
My accommodation is not as palatial as last nights in human creation, but the natural beauty is astoundingly royal. I went for a short drive to Curry's post and stopped at a small graveyard, the Barn Owl coffee shop and then at Troubadour coffee makers where I had some bonding with the resident dogs.
I walked in the delightful gardens around the farm where there are various self catering cottages, small dams, curious cows and a very loving horse. I'm not expert in horse, all I know is from watching my niece and from the Netflix series, Heartland. But this beauty didn't mind and we had a few bonding moments.
It is so green and hilly and the British weather makes me feel homesick for a place far away yet love the new place that I am in.
James Methley, built the current house and I loved exploring the stone walls, bridges and gardens wondering how much dates back to almost 150 years ago. The family loved tennis and gardening. With the arrival of the railway line in 1891, James' son expanded their fruit farming and specialised in plums. The family subdivided it in 1952 and is now 12 hectares and still farming their 700 plum trees.
I ate some of last night's pizza and
made myself a hot drink with the heater on when suddenly the power went out. Sigh. Time to get serious and climb under the duvet and read with the dc light (fortunately). Now I am waiting for the power to return at 10pm and make sure my connection to the world gets fully charged. I'm not complaining about the electricity though, I much prefer my life to that of 1850.
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