23November1995

London: 23rd November 1995
My dear extended folks & family,

Greetings from a chilly grey London. I am feeling rather better than I suspect I deserve. But I’ll come to that in due course. This is the first time I have had a chance to sit down & write a half-sensible letter to you since my departure for Johburg 2 weeks ago. The visit was focused entirely on Mum. She has been in poor health for some time & the aim was to bring her back to London where my Canadian brother would meet her & take her back to Calgary. The main problem is acute sciatica - symptom of a back ailment - which has been proving largely impervious to pain-killers & leaving her depressed & non-functional.

Johannesburg airport in the new South Africa appeared little changed from the Jan Smuts I remembered. I was grateful to avoid the aliens queue at immigration & to slip through to the luggage lounge where bags from our flight were dispersed between two carousels, causing a great deal of confusion. (My brother) Brendan, just a mite redder & rounder than I recalled, was waiting, welcoming, after driving up from Witbank where he runs an eight days a week construction business. It was hot & was to remain so for a week. The mozzies were out in strength. I blessed the insect screens across the windows at the Merrowdown complex where Mum has a cottage & double blessed the pool.

For some years, Mum had been able to stay on top of her back problem with the help of an Austrian reflexologist. The lady concerned had magic fingers. Her departure some months ago was a serious blow. In her absence, Mum had been trying acupuncture & chiropractic treatments in some desperation & with little success. To our extended family who sustained her in her hour of need I owe a much bigger thanks than I can say.

I had taken my laptop & a small printer with me & - once I had coaxed the latter in action - spent much of my time drafting letters & faxes. Faxes seem to have become the primary vehicle of written communication in SA where the postal system is in disarray. There were also daily visits to a chiropractor & frequent trips to the Standard Bank where a super-efficient woman - dubbed a Front Line Consultant - helped us set up standing orders & obtain a variety of signing powers & faxing facilities. I was especially appreciative of this service after the frustration of trying to deal with my own account at the First National Bank, a poor relation of the Barclays I once knew.

Our schedule was geared towards completing the necessary arrangements & getting Mum into shape for the trip back. To help her with the trip - 11 hours to London & 9 to Calgary - her doctor prescribed some potent drugs. Even so, it would have been impossible in the economy section of the aircraft I was accustomed to. It is to the generosity of my family that we owe the two 1st class seats we occupied in Row 1, right in the nose of the plane.

As a result, Mum was able to stretch out with her sustaining hot-water bottle & pillows for most of the journey & I was in good shape to begin a series of night-shifts just a few hours after landing. Kevin & Barbara were waiting at Heathrow where I handed my charge over. The temperature was just above freezing, a world away from the 30 degrees we’d enjoyed in Johburg. Mind you, the last two days of my stay there were in pouring rain - so badly needed. It was still pounding down when we took off.

Last night we joined an American friend for a meal at a new restaurant close to us. It was a take-your-own wine establishment. We did, lots of it & very good too. This morning, we are off to the West Country for two days of unwinding at a cottage Jones has discovered.

Sounds like bliss in spite of rainy prospects.