GOOD LIFE
Suicide she wrote
. . .
I think I ’ m turning into Angela Lansbury . You know the scenario . Eagerly head off to a beautiful place in the country for some peace and quiet , and you end up getting involved in murder , mystery and mayhem . Well , okay , I guess I missed out on the murder , and the mayhem was self-inflicted after a few too many cocktails with the girls around the fire in the evening . But there was mystery – and how .
62 O F I N T E R E S T
But first , let ’ s set the scene . We arrived at De Hoop Nature Reserve in the early evening with enough time to find our rooms , have a quick shower to wash off the road grime , and then head down to the boma for drinks , a potjie supper and stargazing . I collapsed in a heap when I got back to my room , and slept like you just never do in the city with all the background noise and light pollution . And next morning I was up bright and early for a quick mini brekkie before setting off to see the vultures . I could have had a leisurely breakfast , as half our group did , and then be driven to Potberg , but I had some Cape brandy pudding from the night before to walk off . know vultures are not really that pretty up close and personal , they are awesomely graceful in flight . After a yummy packed lunch , we returned to Opstal for some time at leisure , and that ’ s when I noticed it .
I ’ d been very chuffed the night before to find out I ’ d been given the biggest room in the manor house . Filled with antiques , and beautifully brought back to its original splendour , it features metrethick whitewashed walls , a thatched roof , yellowwood doors and yellowwood ceilings – all completely restored . Well , almost .
We ’ d made it almost all the way to Potberg by the time the minibus came by with the more leisurely half of our group , so we jumped on board for a little rest before tackling the quite steep walk up to the viewing platform . Potberg is home to the last surviving colony of Cape Vultures in the Western Cape , and , while we all
A mysterious hole in the ceiling had me thinking ‘ OMG , giant rats that can chew through yellowwood ’, so I hot-footed it to the hotel manager to request a move to a vermin-free room . ‘ Oh no ,’ he assured me , ‘ that ’ s not rats . It ’ s just bullet holes from when the owner blew his brains out with a shotgun .’