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The Fred Factor (January 2003, Marion Boddy-Evans
- Getaway)
Near Paarl there's a wine estate Europeans with a taste for
something classy return to year after year. Marion Boddy-Evans
dropped in at Palmiet Valley Estate to see what locals were
missing out on.
Meals at Palmiet Valley are a social event under the oaks or
inside around a baronial table. My nose twitched awake. Something
tasty was tickling it. Something I wanted to get my lips around.
I snuggled against the warmth next to me in the bed… familiar
pheromones. I sniffed the air. There was something distinctly
more edible in the honeymoon suite, something freshly baked.
Muffins or croissants were the logical explanation, though I
hadn't heard any clattering from the kitchen beneath us - hopefully
the soundproofing worked the other way too. Now what to do until
08h00 when breakfast could be had.
Palmiet Valley Estate is neither confined in a narrow valley
nor covered in the spiky, grey plant after which it is named.
It's a wine estate with, at its heard, a pair of cape dutch
houses. The gable of one is dated 1754; the other lacks a date
- while it looks authentic, it was built in the 1990s.
Fred Uhlendorff bought and restored the estate in 1996 - his
Chenin Blanc, bottled at boland Cellars, is a classic. Then,
having encountered the restrictions of a national monument,
he built himself a house to live in. Behind the period exterior
hide under floor heating and Art Deco furnishings. It's also
got two large rooms suitable for conferences - Fred’s forever
planning ahead, anticipating the end of yet another seven-year
cycle.
Raised in Germany, Fred was offered a job by IBM in either San
Francisco or Liberia. He chose the latter, destined to make
his fortune in the early post-colonial days, before sailing
off on a yacht. That seven-year cycle came to an abrupt end
when his yacht was stolen from a Spanish marina - Apparently
it's as easy as stealing a car, if you're a sailor.
He'd been to Cape Town only once before on a forced stop sailing
from Brazil to Australia - he'd avoided it for political reasons.
With the new regime and the insurance money from his yacht,
he started on a new plan.
What he's created is special enough to have forty per cent of
his guests return - some year after year. Visitors from across
Europe, America and Canada, not to mention Iceland, Cuba, Ghana
and the Cameroon.
It's just South Africans who are missing out, who're dining
under the shady oaks or around the baronial table in the dining
room. Or picnicking by the pool. Chatting in front of the fire
in the colonial explorer’s lounge. Sampling the produce of the
vegetable garden, guava and clementine orchards and vineyards.
Tasting the skills of the latest chef on a six-month visa from
Germany - just how many places in the menu can guavas turn up?
If this is far too tranquil for you, there are 14 golf courses
within half-an-hour's drive.
Then there's the antiques- furniture, paintings, chandeliers,
knick-knacks-all in Fred's maverick taste. The pair of ornate,
dust-magnet lamps in the honeymoon suite will give any chamber
maid nightmares for years. When you're told that each room has
a safe, you think small, discreet, in the wardrobe. Not something
from a Wild West movie with a key that's longer than your cellphone.
There are all the touches you'd expect, but it's done with a
different style. It's not a dainty sprig of rosemary that greets
you on your pillow, it's a branch.
Lift the toilet seat and there are rose petals. The dinner table
is sprinkled with flowers - plus seashells if fish is on the
menu - and at breakfast it's petals and oak leaves among the
home-made marmalades and jams.
If you've ever toyed with the idea of getting the Australian
or New Zealand embassy to send you immigration forms, first
join Fred at the dinner table. His focus is on all the small
things that are going right in South Africa, such as the roads
that get repaired and the proportion of the budget spent on
education.
"Every country has its difficulties and problems. You can't
predict what will happen wherever you are. And at least here
you still have personal freedom." (The latter comment then prompted
an anecdote about neighbours in Germany reporting him for lighting
a fire in his lounge's fireplace more than five times in a month.)
But be quick, he's been at Palmiet Valley almost seven years
- and once he's produced his first red wine he'll have fulfilled
all his current ambitions for the place.
The good news for honeymooners is you don't have to go downstairs
at 08h00 for breakfast. It'll be served to you whenever you
decide to emerge. But you'd have to be thoroughly enraptured
to be able to resist the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked
muffins wafting up from the kitchen - or have booked into another
room. |
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