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. ;)
