It Rains Here Now And
Then, And Blows A Good Deal, But The Wind Has Lost Its Bitter
Chill, And Depressing Quality.
I hope soon to ride a little and
see the country, which is beautiful.
The water-line is all red from the iron stone, and there are hot
chalybeate springs up the mountain which are very good for
rheumatism, and very strengthening, I am told. The boots here is a
Mantatee, very black, and called Kleenboy, because he is so little;
he is the only sleek black I have seen here, but looks heavy and
downcast. One maid is Irish (they make the best servants here), a
very nice clean girl, and the other, a brown girl of fifteen, whose
father is English, and married to her mother. Food here is scarce,
all but bread and mutton, both good. Butter is 3s. a pound; fruit
and vegetables only to be had by chance. I miss the oranges and
lemons sadly. Poultry and milk uncertain. The bread is good
everywhere, from the fine wheat: in the country it is brownish and
sweet. The wine here is execrable; this is owing to the prevailing
indolence, for there is excellent wine made from the Rhenish grape,
rather like Sauterne, with a soupcon of Manzanilla flavour. The
sweet Constantia is also very good indeed; not the expensive sort,
which is made from grapes half dried, and is a liqueur, but a
light, sweet, straw-coloured wine, which even I liked. We drank
nothing else at the Admiral's. The kind old sailor has given me a
dozen of wine, which is coming up here in a waggon, and will be
most welcome. I can't tell you how kind he and Lady Walker were; I
was there three weeks, and hope to go again when the south-easter
season is over and I can get out a little. I could not leave the
house at all; and even Lady Walker and the girls, who are very
energetic, got out but little. They are a charming family.
I have no doubt that Dr. Shea was right, and that one must leave
the coast to get a fine climate. Here it seems to me nearly
perfect - too windy for my pleasure, but then the sun would be
overpowering without a fresh breeze. Every one agrees in saying
that the winter in Capetown is delicious - like a fine English
summer. In November the southeasters begin, and they are
'fiendish'; this year they began in September. The mornings here
are always fresh, not to say cold; the afternoons, from one to
three, broiling; then delightful till sunset, which is deadly cold
for three-quarters of an hour; the night is lovely. The wind rises
and falls with the sun. That is the general course of things. Now
and then it rains, and this year there is a little south-easter,
which is quite unusual, and not odious, as it is near the sea; and
there is seldom a hot wind from the north.
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