Brian and Maria and their daughter Megan featured in South Africa’s premier food magazine, Food and Home, recently. It’s a great story and details the journey the family has taken to become pioneers of the wagyu industry in South Africa at their farm, Woodview.

They’ve also created their own specialty sauce – Black Magic. We were lucky enough to have a taste; we had hoped to take some home with us but it’s not widely available yet. Brian will bring some when he comes to visit in May.

Woodview Wagyu was on the menu.

We started with thinly sliced wagyu biltong then shared plates of different cuts.

The verdict – excellent.

It was a night of good food and wine and laughter, shared with friends.

The traditional Picnic Day was held at Constantia Winery on Tuesday; it was a great day with hundreds and hundreds of cricketers, partners and supporters enjoying the scenery and tasting the wine. We tuned in to the South Africa v New Zealand semi-final on the bus radio; the last over was listened to with disbelief! It finished just as we pulled up.

We parked ourselves at a long table under a tree near the music and food. And drinks.

Drumming class.

Rules.

The crowd really did go wild when the girls from Lord’s Taverners and Cuckfield hit the tables. These girls from England really know how to party; and it was only lunch time!

After our visit to Table Mountain we caught the game bus to Claremont Cricket Club where the mandatory inspection of the pitch took place. This ritual occurs before the start of each game; it is taken very seriously. There are no keys involved.

High tech electronic scoreboard.

Limbering up – this is not our team; these are some of the Gents from Claremont. Most of our boys can’t touch their toes. Some can’t even see them.

This isn’t us either.

This is one of us. Trim, taught and terrific. A finely tuned machine, highly skilled in all aspects of the game.

Discussing tactics.

The Little Master.

Slashing.

Running!!

A fatal error.

Pavilion bound.

Refreshments.

More Rules.

The crowd still going wild.

Oops.

I spent the afternoon in the clubhouse, eating thai beef salad and editing cricket photos.

History!

In similar vein to the fines handed out at the warm up game the Gents chose 3 players as candidates to wear the Dick of the Day wig, presented for on field indiscretions. All the players voted and M won (or lost, depending on how you view it). This is as close as Gibbo wants to get to being Dick of the Day.

Entertainment for the evening was this gent with his guitar and music box – and what a gem he was. He must have surveyed the demographic of the crowd and chose his music to suit. We had a great night of singing and laughing and dancing.

The crowd even went a little wild.

We all piled on to the homeward bound bus, tired and happy. Then we had to sit and wait for 20 minutes to confirm whether Frank, a member of a Brisbane team that was sharing the bus with us, was safe and sound. Frank is 78 years young. Turns out he was on the other bus and was probably back at the hotel and tucked up in bed by the time we left the grounds. Now whenever anyone is looking for someone else the cry goes out, “Where’s Frank”? We don’t know who Frank is but we hope to meet him before we go home.

Monday morning, before the first official game, we took a trip to Table Mountain.

You can walk up if you want to – takes about 2 hours.

There was a slight draught.

The unofficial mascot of Table Mountain is the dassie – they spend 95% of their day resting.

At last we’ve reached the point of no return – the Opening Ceremony – the reason for the trip. Join us as we take a light hearted look at The Holy Grail of mature age cricket -the Golden Oldies World Cricket Festival Cape Town South Africa 2015.

After milling around outside the venue for what seemed an age (and marvelling at the size of the man mountain, Joel Garner) we lined up and proudly marched into Newlands Stadium through the welcoming band tunnel.

Newlands Cricket Ground is considered by many to be the most beautiful test cricket venue in the world. The crowd certainly agreed.

In a show of great skill and timing each team marched in with the precision of a military parade.

and lined up in perfect copybook formation. Following the welcome speeches we found a spot in the members area to enjoy the drinks, the food and the atmosphere.

Over sixty teams from around the world have made the journey to Capetown to play the gentleman’s game and relive old dreams and past glories and to share funny cricket stories. Well that won’t take long.

I wandered through the crowd taking photos of some of the team banners to give you an idea of how far and wide they have travelled.

This is Kenny from Japan. He’s a one man team. We met him in England 5 years ago; he was a one man team then too. They don’t play much cricket in Japan. He told one of us that there’s only two cricket pitches in Japan, about 100km apart. I think he’s become a bit of a celebrity; everybody wants a photo with Kenny. He affiliates himself with another team so that he can at least get a game here.

Here’s Richard on the right; he was the man leading the honouring of the pitch a couple of days ago.

The Band.

More rules.

We caught a taxi back to our hotel. We ordered one for 5 passengers; when it arrived it was a corolla. Gibbo said to the driver, “but we need to fit 5”. The driver replied, “No problem, 1 in the front, 4 in the back”. So Gibbo jumped in the front and 4 of us squeezed into the back for the 20 minute ride home. He’s still talking and laughing about it.

Our friends Brian and Maria and Brian’s brother Garth picked us up Sunday morning.

Garth owns a tour company and on our journey to Capetown he told us about the history of the area.

We visited the Franschhoek Motor Museum.

We found Gibbo’s bike for this year’s RTCC.

Or this one.

They must have known we were coming. There was an MG convention on the lawn.

Then we drove on to Delaire Graff Estate at Stellenbosch where we sampled some wine.

We stopped at Muratie Wine Estate for lunch.

Muratie is centuries old and much of the original infrastructure, improved on over the years, still exists.

Even the cobwebs are preserved.

A copy of the original deed.

We arrived in Capetown just in time to drop our bags at the hotel and jump on a bus, heading to the Opening Ceremony. This is what we came for!

We left the guest house on Sunday after a leisurely breakfast outside. It’s been lovely.

In a devastating turn of events we woke up on Saturday morning to find the mountains obscured by low lying clouds and rain gently falling. Today was supposed to see a warm up game against a local team, a chance to blow out a few cobwebs and test the willow. Bummer said one.

 Within an hour the sun was shining brightly and the game was on, albeit with a delayed start. Bummer said the other.

While the team headed out to the grounds the rest of us strolled around the town, visiting the markets and admiring the produce. I made some interesting purchases to take home for my brothers to sample over a beer or ten while being regaled with fascinating cricket stories. That shouldn’t take long so I only bought small ones.

At an agreed time we piled into the van and drove out to the grounds where anticipation was building.

The groundsman had everything under control, as did his offsider. The overnight rain, in addition to the watering of the pitch the day before, had soaked away and the game was deemed to be a starter.

Unfortunately, before a ball was bowled, we left again and went for a scenic drive along the Drakenstein ridge that towers over the area, passing through towns, villages, orchards, vineyards and acres of farmland along the way.

On the way back we stopped for refreshments……

and met a couple of baboons.

A giant lagerphone.

Upon our return things were really heating up.

I walked around the grounds to check out the scenery.

What an amazing location. It didn’t matter from which angle I took a photo there was a towering mountain in the background.

The crowd was going wild.

Doesn’t matter where you go there are rules. Everywhere.

The team made 183 at first.

Then later it was discovered they’d really made 184.

The finally tally. A narrow loss.

As is tradition, the teams gather after the game to honour the pitch with beers and boerewors. This particular pitch is the oldest one in South Africa – the first turf wicket ever laid – and it’s still the original. Hallowed ground indeed.

Down but not out. Well actually, he did get out.

Walking back to the showers, Wayne and Gibbo dissected the game. What were you doing??? They were sitters…both of them….

We headed inside the clubhouse where more honouring of the field took place. Later, in another tradition, the captains handed out fines for on field indiscretions. Some players had to have two. “They were sitters”, someone yelled unkindly. Probably Wayne.

After more honouring we had a wonderful dinner then went home to bed. Some players had trouble walking up the two flights of stairs due to seized muscles and all that honouring.

Friday was a travel day. A mini bus took us to Johannesburg; we received regular score updates from home on the quarter final match between Australia and Pakistan. It’s important to keep up with world events. Anticipation is building for our own World Cup; well it is for some.

There were some interesting sights along the way…..

and some confronting ones.

Our flight to Capetown took two hours.

Then we drove the 75km to Franschhoek, one of the oldest towns in SA. If you dropped me here blindfolded then asked me where I was I’d say in Austria or Holland. We couldn’t be further removed from where we’ve just been. This place has a very European atmosphere.

We are staying at La Fontaine Guest House.

This is the guest house.

This is the local paper.

This is our room.

This is our balcony.

This is our view.

This is my husband, enjoying a little aperitif before we take a gentle stroll to dinner.

Surprisingly, he ordered steak ; it was hard to cut but tender and tasty.

Thought I might ride one of these in the RTCC this year; I can carry the refreshments water bottles.

Everywhere we go we check out the local produce; this prime rib steak was about $10.30/kg; $4.50 for the 436g piece.

In this mug shot Gibbo is holding a tray of rather pale looking tenderised steak – $9.00/kg; $3.37 for the 374g piece.

More local produce.

Can you believe this? After checking out and paying our bill we walked to breakfast and saw – 2 hippos in the back yard!