In case I needed any more reasons to love living in South Africa, this weekend I realized one more. A couple from Kev's town in Switzerland has come to do a six month tour of Southern Africa (including Namibia, Botswana, Zambia, Malawi, and Mozambique). For the last ten days or so, they've been staying with us while they get organized.

Poor Kev spent the whole of last week helping them buy a landrover defender, get it reregistered, and take out insurance. Then he took them shopping for equipment, a tent, sleeping bags etc. He also helped them to plan a route because the poor things didn't really have a clear idea of what they wanted to do besides 'see Africa.' I think he was quite glad to finally see them get on their way this morning so that he can finally get onto his own work.

Ensuring that they remained fed became my department. This was a bit tricky because all I ever eat is salads, which our two rather large guests might not find filling enough. So, it was time to expand my culinary skills a little (which I must confess normally meant buying wholegrain bread to go with my salads).

Anyway, I eat a lot of fruit too, and now that the delicious summer variety is available, my gran took me to the food lovers market, where we stocked up on everything in season - pineapples, strawberries, blueberries, kiwis, and whatnot. Actually, we also found some imported treasures that aren't in season yet, such as litchis (which were completely overpriced - two cupped handfuls costing half the price of a whole box in december).

We also spotted some tiny mangos (no bigger than an avocado) each marked at the price of a whole bag. They didn't even smell like anything. Whatever country grew them should come here for a few tips because they didn't do a great job, in my opinion.

In the opinion of our Swiss guests, though, it was not only an average sized mango, but also heavily discounted compared to what they're used to at home. Boy, are they in for a surprise when december comes around and boxes of giant, fragrant, juicy mangos will be available along the road. They'll cry themselves to sleep when they're finally back in their cold, fruitless society.

I served them the kind of breakfast you can only enjoy South of the equator, spreading out all the fruit we'd picked up at the market. To my absolute horror, I discovered that they'd never eaten fresh figs and didn't even know what a guava was! I cannot see myself surviving long in a country with such a limited and expensive fresh fruit variety. It's such a sad state of affairs that I feel genuinely sorry for them.

Of course Kevin, always jumping to Switzerland's defense, tried to convince me that I'd get used to it if I lived there. He survived quite happily for almost two decades in Zurich, after all. However, when he got back from his night away with friends (Thomas' bachelor party), he was craving salad even though he normally complains that it's all I make to eat. Apparently they ate no fruit or veg while away at all, and he actually missed it. So maybe living in a country where fruit costs a fortune would get to him too, now that he's used to abundance. I mean, we've got granadillas, mulberries, plums, figs, and cherry tomatoes growing in the garden for free!

As I savoured the sweet pawpaw I'd got for breakfast this morning, I considered again how lucky I am to be African. And when Christmas comes around and the litchis and mangos are cheaper, bigger, and juicier than the sad little imports, I suspect the Swiss adventurers will wish they were too. ;)

Three times a charm

It sounds a bit strange to refer to my second and third wedding when I've only been married to one man for a month. A family friend pointed out that I'm having a true African wedding by dragging it out for as long as possible. Nevertheless, the grand finale was well worth waiting for.

Although we'd been home for a week, there was still so much to prepare for that it didn't quite feel like we were back in the 'real world' yet. I had a nervous pms-induced moment where I worried that my wedding dress wouldn't fit. It actually kept me up one night. Despite Kev's assurances that I hadn't gained weight, I snuck upstairs to try the dress on with Nicole during the pamper party my gran threw for me the night before our reception. To my immense relief, it zipped up easily.

The next day, it actually struggled to stay up during our photo shoot at casablanca manor, a victorian-style venue decorated with towering columns, curtains of chiffon, and glittering fairy lights. Eventually, we had to resort to double-sided tape to hold it up. Kev looked sexy as ever, though, in his fitted pinstripe suit that was decorated with a white rose corsage, which matched the beautiful bouquet Suna had made for me.

During our speech, instead of tossing it to all the single ladies (a silly tradition anyway), I presented my flowers to my grandmother as a very small token of appreciation for EVERYTHING she's done for us. My grandad later told me that he'd been impressed by how Kev and I presented our speech together, making it possible for us both to thank our immediate family without becoming repetitive. By sticking to our script, I managed to hold myself together, but Kev eventually broke down when he decided to suprise me by detailing his love for me in front of everyone. Considering that he's normally against public displays of affection and generally not prone to emotional displays, I was incredibly moved by his speech. I still am when I think about it, actually.

After a delicious meal (with something vegetarian prepared especially for me, since Kev insisted on meat for everyone else), we opened the dance floor with a foxtrot to Nat King Cole's L.O.V.E - actually, it was more of a fox slide thanks to the very slippery floor. It didn't help that the dance area had been decorated with dry leaves scattered into a heart shape. While it looked lovely, it made it very difficult to get a sure foot. Hopefully, we managed to pull it off, though, especially because we'd been working on our routine since the beginning of this year.

Cutting the cake was a lot less difficult. Considering it was our third, though, we already had plenty of practice. From when we'd arrived earlier that day, everything turned out better than we'd expected. The candlelit hall looked prettier than we thought it would, the food was better than we expected, and the cake had been decorated exactly the way we wanted it. Thick white icing covered in little hearts and edged off with ribbon was blanketed over three tiers of chocolate, carrot, and amarula fudge cake, with hearts shooting from the top of the cake and fresh red roses spilling over the sides.

The best part of the evening, though, was when everyone took to the dance floor. While many of the older folk decided to say their goodbyes and call it a night at this point, I was surprised to see my gran, her sister Eve, and their friends boogying away. While Kev's Afrikaans cousins sokkied around the floor, their children tried their hand at an amusing version of the langarm, which basically meant marching around with one arm rigidly extended. Kev's parents waltzed a bit when the music slowed, and my grandad took my gran for a twirl as well. Even Sophie, who has been working for our family since I was born, got down alongside Jemina, Piet, and Johnston. The show was stolen by my cousin Dawson, though, who had just done a fabulous job as MC. Empty champagne bottle in hand, he became the life of the party as he played up to the camera with attention-demanding dance moves and antics.

Eventually and inevitably, it all had to come to an end. Kev and I retired to the honeymoon suit, which had been beautifully decorated with rose petals and candles. We collapsed into bed, ignoring the outdoor jacuzzi bath set with two glasses and a bottle of champagne, exhausted but completely thrilled by how well the evening had turned out.

And, just like that, it was all over. After enjoying the breakfast spread the staff had laid out for us in the morning sun, we packed up the remnants of our celebration and headed back to Pretoria. Well, it was almost over... There were still all those presents to unwrap!