All hands on deck

go! Platteland - - CONTENTS -

Our con­trib­u­tors

Th­ese peo­ple searched far and wide – as far afield as Namibia – to find their sto­ries. With­out them, you wouldn’t be hold­ing the sum­mer is­sue of Plat­te­land in your hands.

Cara Brink-Mans

“You are cor­dially in­vited”, page 110. Cara is a city slicker turned farmer in Khomas Hochland in Namibia. She can def­i­nitely tell you a thing or two about brah­mans. When it’s swel­ter­ing, sip home­made lemon­ade and take an af­ter­noon nap. Most lyri­cal town name? The Sand­veld. (I know it’s a re­gion.) My fa­ther al­ways said I’m not just any Brink, but a Sand­veld Brink. That’s quite some­thing among the Brinks! We say sum­mer, you say... rain! When the swal­lows re­turn, the tor­toises come out and the drops fall. There’s no greater re­lief.

Zigi Ekron

“Make a grand stand for your plants”, page 106 Zigi ed­its our sis­ter mag­a­zine, WegSleep. When he heads to the hard­ware store for a packet of screws, he of­ten re­turns with yet another piece of equip­ment, planks, and an idea to make some­thing he doesn’t need. When it’s swel­ter­ing, I leave the handy­man work for another day. Most lyri­cal town name? Koffie­fontein. I drink a lot of cof­fee and the name makes me think “land of milk and honey”. We say sum­mer, you say... stoep, sau­vi­gnon blanc, sosaties and salad.

Ma­ree Louw

Cover & “Christ­mas wreath all year round”, page 83. This for­mer North­ern Ca­per is now a pho­tog­ra­pher in the Swart­land. When she isn’t zip­ping around on dirt roads, she’s mak­ing coleslaw (her hus­band, wine­maker Cal­lie Louw, is a part­ner in The South­ern Smoke spe­cial­is­ing in smoked meat – de­li­cious with Ma­ree’s salad). When it’s swel­ter­ing, head for the sea! Most lyri­cal town name? Put­son­der­wa­ter. I think of the hope those peo­ple must have had to set­tle in the mid­dle of nowhere. We say sum­mer, you say... sun lo­tion, sand and Stil­baai.

Jac Kritzinger

“Warm heart of the roar­ing lion”, page 22 Jac calls him­self a pho­tog­ra­pher, writer, drifter. As long as his head is full of ideas, his bakkie full of diesel and his life full of in­ter­est­ing souls, he’s happy. When it’s swel­ter­ing, I put a wet towel in the freezer for half an hour be­fore twist­ing it around my head. It’s known as the ice crown, patented by a friend of mine. Most lyri­cal town name? Lo­eries­fontein. It’s lyri­cal enough, hid­den away and choco­late-box pretty. We say sum­mer, you say... long days, short dresses, early ris­ing, cricket at New­lands.

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