THE THE MISSUS & ME
Bareng-Batho Kortjaas goes on a mission to the Midlands in a Jaguar XF
My reaction to the exterior of elegance enveloped in simplicity was one word: awe-inspiring. Eye-catching, said the missus. Easy on the eye, exclaimed the KKK — not the Ku Klux Klan but our children Katleho, Kabelo and Khanya. And so it was that we christened the new (temporary) addition to the family fleet, The Cat. There it was, the British beast that is the Jaguar XF in all its silver-grey glory, glistening and ready to hit the road.
Because we were going to leave them behind to embark on a just-the-two-of-us, two-day sojourn to Mooi River, the KKK asked for a ride somewhere, anywhere.
The consensus was a cruise to church on Easter Friday. Unbeknownst to us, the ailing and limping Nomzamo Winifred Zanyiwe Madikizela-Mandela, that day, would be part of our Meadowlands Zone 7 Methodist church parish for the last time.
She died on Easter Monday — and true to form, Mama Winnie shook the country in death with the same ferocity she did in life. Oh, the terrible timing of death.
The timing of the invitation to go away for a fast (but not too fast) weekend in the luxury car was anything but terrible.
It came at a time when I was planning a surprise birthday getaway for Mbali, the woman who not only keeps up with this whisky-guzzling mess of a man mountain, but is stupid enough to want to spend the rest of her life with.
Can you spell stupidity? Or is it love?
Oh, the capturer of my heart.
SWEET SEDUCTION
The XF’s interior boasts an attractive combination of black and red leather seats augmented by double white stitches. Seduction baby!
The Sunday morning after her birthday we whisked The Cat out of the driveway, the soothing sounds of Grover Washington blowing Just The Two of Us with his saxophone at full blast.
In the blink of an eye we were on-ramping the highway, beginning a 450km drive to the Midlands and Hartford House.
The British beast whizzed down the N3 like a bullet.
De Hoek Plaza.
Wilge Plaza.
Tugela Plaza.
The Cat dutifully obeyed the instruction of my size 12 foot when I put pedal to metal. Oh, the groan she moaned.
The tank was not shooting backwards at an alarming velocity as the remarkable rear end farted gas at Gauteng while the grill nosed eagerly in the direction of KwaZuluNatal.
The itinerary said to “remember to stop for lunch at Mugg & Bean, in Montrose”.
But there was no time for a detour, what with Luther Vandross playing Ain’t No
Stoppin Us Now, egging us on to continue enjoying the exhilarating experience of the XF Jaguar.
Thick clouds hugging the Drakensberg mountains like cream atop a cappuccino greeted us with glee as we off-ramped into Mooi River.
As The Cat meandered the Midlands, green upon green of rolling hills was a sight to behold as we arrived at Hartford House, our home away from home, for two days, feeling fresher than daisies.
The Jaguar’s tank was just short of full when it reversed out of the yard in Roodepoort. On parking in front of Hartford House, we had used much less than half a tank. Impressive.
ALL ENGINES REVVING
“Come on come on, let’s make a baby,” sang Billy Paul as we entered our suite, called Mbulelo, the king bed an inviting sight.
One of four eco-friendly suites only a cricket-pitch length from an enchanting lake, Mbulelo is constructed of materials harvested from the estate and the immediate vicinity.
Tucked away with its resident pair of endangered oribi, the private world of its pool deck glimpses the swirls of rising “rainbows” and catches the triumphant shriek of a foraging kingfisher.
A bit of history from the brochure: Hartford’s beauty was discovered by the Moor family, who came by its vacant landscape in the early 1870s.
Home to the family of John and Sir Frederick Moor, the last prime minister of old Natal, the property is now part of the greater Summerhill estate, former domain of Colonel Richards, a senator in the first Union government.
The sun was shining, kissing tenderly on our skins as we embarked on an enjoyable horse ride around the estate.
PLAYING THE FUEL
When the intestines started toyi-toying, the politics of the stomach were attended to with aplomb during a fine-dining experience.
A food-and-wine pairing teased our palates’ palettes, with Chris the chef weaving magic with delicious dishes.
Dinner was sirloin, wonderfully crispy on the outside, sweet and tangy on the inside.
Dessert was a massive hot-cross-bun bread and butter pudding with wonderful, aromatic flavours.
A blend of Peruvian and Colombian coffee washed everything down.
The service-delivery protest spilt onto the highway, burning barricades making it too risky to navigate our route to a hot-stonemassage appointment.
No worries — a dip in the plunge pool on our private deck with the lakeside view in the background was just as rejuvenating.
Then a long, lazy walk under a blanket sky peppered with shining stars.
The genuine hospitality of the staff made our stay extra special.
The distance from Roodepoort to Mooi River is 458km. Same coming back. That’s 916km in total — and there was still diesel in the tank when we cruised back into the yard in Roodepoort.
So it has been proven — the Jaguar XF, equipped with a 2.0 litre diesel engine, can travel up to 1 400km on a single tank.
Raises the benchmark indeed.
● Rates at Hartford House are from R600 per person sharing until August 2018. See hartford.co.za.
BBK was a guest of Jaguar and Hartford House