Myrtle grew up in South Africa, on a plot. For the non-South African readers: a plot is a common (pun intended) term for a small farm. Most plot people own at least five dogs of dubious origin, a chicken coup, with our without chickens (depending on the fierceness of the five dogs) and a car without wheels on bricks. Of course there are plot people whose cars have wheels and who have neatly tended gardens and glittering swimming pools. Not many, but they are out there.
Saturdays were Auction Days on the plots. Myrtle and her brother accompanied their father to the auction – in part to look at the animals and in part to eat the home made “church bazaar food”. The churches in the vicinity had stalls selling curry and rice, jaffels (like a round toasted sandwich filled with minced meat), vetkoek (a bun fried in oil) and the famous N.G. Church cinnamon pancakes. Their dad would scout the auction, looking for a good looking cow (I’m still talking about the cattle), sheep or pig and Myrtle and her brother were not allowed to look excited – lest wthey tip the seller off that there is an interested party and they get a friend to bid against the very interested buyer. All very cloak and dagger type stuff. The auction would start off with the cattle and then move to a huge warehouse on the same property where everything else was sold. From second-hand tractors to second-hand beds and corrugated iron.
When Myrtle saw an advertisement for a “Farmer’s Market” in a Grand Cayman magazine where the parents could buy organic vegetables while their children petted farm animals and played in a maze, she was filled with happy memories of her childhood and convinced Tony to take the 30 minutes drive to Lower Valley.
What a disappointment! Pumpkin, plantains and sausages for sale. Three chickens clucking around outside the wall-less building. Empty cattle pens. No jaffels, no vetkoeke and no pancakes. Eish!
Tiny said goodbye to the chickens (or “tsikens” as she pronounces it – much like many Capetonians) and the Turtles were on the road again. They drove past Old Man’s Cay with its huge graveyard. Yes, Old Man’s Cay Graveyard… They then swiftly proceeded to Rum Cay where they had a nice lunch at a restaurant called Over the Edge where you can look at the fish through the deck planks while eating.
They drove back to Seven Mile Beach through Bodden Town – the first capital city of Grand Cayman. It is a quaint little place with magnificent ocean views from the winding road.
Who would think that Grand Cayman has plots and plot people? Wonder if their plots produced a Charlize Theron… ours did!
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