Since we are dreaming, this is the space that I would call home:
The first thing one sees on the grounds is the runway, a neat short-grassed affair that stretches from the access road to the boundary fence. It is fronted by a series of disused stables and a large barn with wide double doors. The barn is where the Tiger Moth is kept and the stables have been modified to house a workshop and a series of vintage cars. The stables are shaded by a single Baobab tree that drops its russet leaves among the gravel driveway in autumn. This is all backs onto the main house, Kambaku, named after one of the Great Tuskers that once lived in the area. It is a very rustic affair with a tall roof that extends beyond the walls of the house, providing extra shade. The house is build around a goliath Leadwood tree that extends upwards from an atrium in the centre of the house. A plethora of birds and reptiles call this tree their home and as a result the house seems to change with the seasons. The birds migrate and arrive, with different sounds and calls accompanying them. The leaves change colour with the seasons too, and the warmth of this central area is often tuned with the summers and winters. The animals work as a barometer in the house. A deck runs around the entire house and is dotted with an array of wicker furniture of different styles, each one strategically placed to catch the sun or the view. Some have wooden side tables paired with them. The outside divisions between the rooms which open out onto the deck are roughly demarcated by assorted pot plants. Except for the living room and main bedroom. This is where the deck stretches out a little bit further under a bare-beamed roof to give more shade. A hammock swings with the breeze in one corner whilst a fireplace and braai made out of the local rock forms an wall between the living and bedroom decks. An ancient wooden dining room table, the kind that would need half a dozen men to lift, is on the centre of the main deck. In front of it is a fire pit which is slightly raised to stop the smoke interfering with whoever sits on the railway sleeper benches that encircle it. Two dogs lie asleep with their tongues lolling out over their lips on the cool deck. To the side of them near the hammock are some smaller cosy chairs with a trunk filled with toys between them. From here the view drops off from a short-grassed hill down towards a valley where a trickle of a river is dammed up by the shoulders of dark rocks to form some water frontage that is too big to be called a pond, but small enough not to be a dam. It is lined by enormous Weeping Boer Beans and Mashatu Trees that bring a startling variety of animals. Secretive bushbuck are always hiding amongst the ticker bush at the base of the trees, and on the opposite banks a short muddy wall is home to families of bee eaters. On some days elephants come to drink and wallow in the stream and at night the resident leopard often pays a visit. A short walk from the deck is what Is affectionately called ‘The Hut’. It is a hide converted into a writing room which looks onto the river but is obscured by rocks from the main house. A stone pathway leads from the main deck around a corner and into its entrance. The Hut has huge windows on all sides with railway sleepers as their sills. The windows open wide to allow a breeze to drift through. The building looks onto the remnants of an old Leadwood Tree, now splintered shards of branches which the bee eaters and kingfishers use as a perch. Inside The Hut are some brown leather sofas, cracked and weathered with age. Between them is a writing table that contains a variety of papers and envelopes with a square of green blotting leather at its centre. Each window is surrounded by shelves that are cluttered with books. Most of them are environmental and Africana in their nature but there are also favorite children’s stories and mystery novels. The shelves run from ceiling to floor and right across every available space. So, inspiration from a place where we stayed while on holiday in Waterval Boven called Troutways, Roald Dahl's writing room, the villa in A Good Year, the Herbert Baker Estate of Welgelegen, Mankwe Hide in The Pilanesberg National Park and Mohave Bush Camp in Botswana.
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ContentSome thoughts about things, sometimes philosophical, sometimes just musings. The world through my eyes... Archives
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