Have caught up on all the blogging but too tired now to do the highlights. Check back later too see what we enjoyed the most.

Thanks for Reading!

We left Capetown Sunday morning and flew to Johannesburg where we heard the news that Australia had beaten New Zealand in the World Cup. Look who was sitting across from us and had the result on his phone – KENNY FROM JAPAN wearing a South Africa shirt!!!

We flew 10 hours to Singapore, had a 3 hour layover then flew 8 hours to Brisbane where my two containers of exotic seasonings were confiscated by Customs but the dangerous looking Biltong cutter with a machete like implement attached to a lump of untreated wood didn’t even rate a second glance (something to do with the pink peppercorns being able to sprout).

In an unusual turn of events Drew was waiting at the Arrivals gate for us (it’s usually us waiting for one of our children to emerge through the doors, safely home once more from their global wanderings; Meg is currently riding camels in the Indian desert); hugs all ’round. Then out of the crowd came Jude and Neil; they greeted us before heading off to Departures to catch a flight home to their families.

We arrived home at the farm after 11pm to this very appropriate welcome.

We’re a faithful bunch of followers, the QCC wives (and Tracey’s mum). We’re patient and supportive; we sometimes roll our eyes; we clap and cheer; we massage sore muscles; we commiserate and sympathise; we listen attentively to yet another funny cricket story;we love our husbands. It’s been great spending time with this bunch of women and I’m sad to be leaving them. WAGs on Tour.

The Farewell Party was held at a theme park; guest speakers were Sir Garfield Sobers, Joel Garner and Mike Proctor. More funny cricket stories.

Here’s Wayne and Gibbo dissecting again. Most of us had an early start; one group had to leave at 4am, we were booked for 7.30am and the rest were at 8am so it wasn’t a huge night. Everyone was pretty worn out; the full on week had taken it’s toll.

Most of us have signed up for the next Festival in two year’s time in……..

When we walked out of Monkey Town there was a girl from the nearby reptile park walking around with a boa constrictor. I love snakes. This encounter really made my day.

We had a slow start to proceedings on Saturday; after a quiet breakfast we picked up our laundry and hired a driver to take us on the 45 minute drive to Monkey Town. We’d passed it on our way to the sharks earlier in the week. We spent a couple of hours there wandering through the exhibits and feeding the monkeys.

The humans are in the cage; the monkeys aren’t!

I was fascinated with the marmosets – I guess most monkeys look like us but the faces on these little guys seemed particularly human.

We went into an enclosure and fed some of the monkeys; one tried to steal the map out of Gibbo’s pocket. Later, he got away with it and took it up into a tree. The guide had to get it back but the monkey kept pulling on it and didn’t want to give up his treasure.

Ooh yeah, that feels goooood……

Map stealing.

The spider monkey was really cool and really sad

and really lanky

and really ugly.

Another marmoset with very fat cheeks.

Ahh, home at last.

This guy had a nut that he was trying to break open.

He kept washing it then bashing it really hard with a big stone. I didn’t get to see whether he cracked it or not because Gibbo called me over next door…..

where this guy kept tapping on the tortoise shell with a rock, then licking and rubbing the shell.

The third and final game was against the West Coast Rollers, a lively bunch of lads who enjoy their cricket nearly as much as our boys do.

I arrived at the game after the township tour, just in time to see Gibbo batting for the last time…and running.

and playing on.

Don’t need these any more.

The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak……knees that have only just held out, finally breaking down.

Here’s Graham, our one handed bandit. He’s the player who broke his finger before he left home; he’s played all 4 games one-handed and not done too badly!

Bowling again.

Tricked another batsman with a googly.

Get up, the game’s not over yet.

Ouch, shouldn’t have run so far….or so fast….or not at all.

This is the one thing you never want to see waddling across a cricket field – a DUCK……

Game over; tour over. Dissecting with Wayne.

Paella for dinner – one seafood, one chicken.

While the paella cooked we finished off the wagyu biltong.

The organisers provided Personality of the Day medals for each team to present to a member of the opposing team at the end of each day’s play. Gibbo won for today’s game.

Personal tally of 33 runs and 1 wicket. And 3,000 beers.

The teams swapped mementos – the Rollers gave the boys a cap each; the boys gave the Rollers a QCC pin.

The paella was delicious, the drinks were cold, the fines were funny and the night was a great one. We finally all wandered across the field like browns cows, heading for the bus and back to the hotel, tired but happy – no waiting for a Frank or Julian tonight; it was just Team QCC on the bus. We all ended up in the drawing room having drinks and coffee on our second last night together. No-one wanted to go to bed. One more night after this and we’d split 4 different ways and head off to other places.

Friday morning I went on a tour to Langa, one of 15 townships just outside Capetown. On the way we stopped at a museum for a short history lesson.

Sheep heads; they’re called “smileys” because as they dry out the cheeks contract – and they smile.

African beer, brewed from sorghum/maize. It was very frothy.

A supermarket.

We went inside a few houses and met some men living in a hostel.

Laundry day.

The little guy on the left was saying “cheese”. The children were extremely well behaved; no-one moved off their chair.

The local hairdresser.

The local chemist.

On the way out our guide, Cornelia, took us to one of the oldest areas in the township. I’ve only ever seen glimpses of township living on tv, usually in a news grab. In reality, it’s sobering stuff.

Not content with the sedate gripping pace of Golden Oldies cricket we decided to do something nail-biting and inject a bit of excitement into our holiday – so we went cage diving with great white sharks. YOLO (Mums, that means You Only Live Once).

After a two hour drive under overcast skies we found ourselves at Gansbaai at the bottom of South Africa. Next stop: Antarctica. We were given breakfast, signed an indemnity release and got our kit.

We walked down to the ocean which looked calm and peaceful.

The team.

Yep, still calm and peaceful as we head out.

We hurtled our way out to the cage site, bouncing through the waves and getting drenched from the spray; it took about 15 minutes. Here’s the cage – a high tech contraption made of what looks to be the same mesh that we use on our chook pens at home; construction looked about the same too. Not sure what story that bent panel in the lid could tell.

Here’s the victim Gibbo. Still celebrating.

Dressed like seals we were all manhandled into the water.

Hanging on for dear life.

Fin No 1.

Just before we pulled up the crew threw out tuna oil and burley to attract the sharks, fish and seagulls. Then they threw out a big bait – a ball of fish heads secured with rope through the eyes. As the sharks came close the person on the line would yank the bait back towards the cage so that the shark followed it in – when that happened, the skipper would yell, “down, down, down” – that was the cue to grab onto the yellow bars in the cage, pull yourself down under the water as far as you could and look up towards the surface. See – no heads above the water.

All good Mare. Don’t worry; I’m still here.

For several reasons the operators don’t like to let the sharks actually take the bait. They prefer them to chase it in towards the cage; makes for better viewing. If the sharks actually take the bait, they eat it then leave. Also, they don’t like the shark to come too close in case they hit the cage and damage themselves.

Series of 6 photos:

After only a few minutes in the water I was shivering uncontrollably but didn’t get out; it was totally awesome to think I was in the Atlantic ocean off the southern tip of South Africa floating in a cage that was tied to a boat, with someone throwing burley and bait into the water around me to attract great white sharks. On purpose.

Underwater photos from Cat F.

We survived, all limbs intact. Back at the house we got changed into warm dry gear and had hot soup and bread. We watched a video of the dive; it begins with the ominous beats of the soundtrack from Jaws. We bought it for your viewing pleasure.

The two hour return drive to Capetown was a quiet affair; just the two of us went out for dinner to Beluga, a very popular seafood restaurant. There was no shark on the menu.

Game 2 in the festival was on Wednesday, this time against the Western Province Cricket Club, founded in 1864. The boys made 192; Gibbo retired on 35 (a game rule of GO cricket is to retire at 35 so that everyone gets a chance to bat. If you run out of players the retirees can go back in).

Gibbo and Wayne, looking for catches.

There’s that crowd again; a faithful band of supporters.

We girls got excited up on the balcony when the news finally came through from home that Lincoln James was born safe and well; we wet the baby’s head while the boys shook theirs in disbelief when they looked up and realised what we were doing.

First baby photos.

Telling funny cricket stories.

Medium-slow bowling off a long run up of 6 paces; as the day wears on the number of paces reduces.

Wicket No 1 – a catch by John.

Wicket No. 2 – an LBW.

The fastest thing on the field all day was this fluffy dog that raced in from the dog park next door. He wanted to play too.

Not sure what’s going on here – anticipating the next wicket perhaps? Practicing the appeal? Acknowledging the adoration of the champagne sipping crowd on the balcony?

Not content with the pace of the game, another dog got involved; he stole the ball and wouldn’t give it back.

After several minutes spent chasing him down, the ball was retrieved and play resumed.

Catch No 2 – the batsman was an ex-international (I missed Catch No 1).

Photo by Cat F.

Hey Wayne – I caught it!

The girls were pleased!

A welcome victory. Finally.

Gibbo and Wayne dissecting the game – I can’t believe you caught them; Nor can I!!!!! All is forgiven. Hmm; these hands; perhaps I should insure them? Settle down.

Saluting the supporters? Or celebrating the win?

Honouring the field.

Still celebrating the win and a personal tally of 35 runs, 2 wickets and 2 catches.

Winners are Grinners. Still celebrating the win.

Another late night spent sitting on the bus, this time waiting for Julian. We don’t know Julian either. He’s a team-mate of Frank’s.