Stepping into the role of famous writer
THE 18th hole at Steenberg golf course is the perfect spot from which to work. Buffeted by mountains so close I imagine I could reach out and touch them, with the undulating greens ahead. The soft rustles of the leaves are punctuated by birdsong and the occasional whirr of a golf cart. Such is the life when Steenberg Hotel is your home, albeit it for the night.
These past weekends I’ve been Hemingway and Hunter Thompson and, moments ago, Mary Poppins. A large family of guineafowl have filed past my desk (green, wrought-iron patio furniture) while a friendly English boy who got lost on the golf course, used my room to access the hotel. I did think twice about the wisdom of that. Surely Hemingway or Thompson would have scowled at the youngster and sent him packing with a boxed ear for his interruption. I also thought about the risk of having a teen in my hotel room. Was this a set-up? Were the FBI/CIA/ABC etc trying to trap me? I thought briefly about the Jackson trial, but then my door closed behind the boy and he became a thing of the past. Back to work now, which is, after all why I’m taking these weekend breaks – to focus on my writing.
Threatening sky
The wind has come up and the sky looks threatening, but these threats have been nothing but thin air of late.
Four white geese have noisily flown past with a fifth brown-coloured one. Nature is making far too much noise for my liking and, until things quieten down here, I’ll tell you about the Marine in Hermanus, around two hours from where I’m sitting now.
Having the helipad co-ordinates is useful, as most people who can afford to stay there will, I imagine, fly in. Like Steenberg, the Marine is also a historic space that has been given the luxury touch. Ensconced in my beautiful room, on the raised portion overlooking the cliff path and the crashing sea below, I immediately slip into my role. I’m an important English writer with just four days to finish yet another best seller before my publisher revokes my contract for late delivery. I’ve left my adoring fans and sycophantic staff for peace and quiet. 11 hours from Heathrow and a heli flip and I’m sitting at a Queen Anne table looking out to the sea. Deep in concentration, I am disturbed by a group of onlookers who are peering up through my sash window aghast and I realise that I’m not wearing trousers. To avoid the public’s glare, I go to the pool to tap away at my Latitude D600. The sun is too bright, and despite adjusting the controls, I can’t see the screen. I’m sure other great writers don’t have to deal with this – I think and make a mental note that when next in India I must export someone to hold an umbrella over me as I work.
The inner courtyard at the Marine is a protected space – from prying eyes and gusty winds and now at a table under the trees I get back to work. I find role-playing helps focus my attention.
Freebies
The truth of what I’m doing is not only dull but self-deprecating so I’d rather be some famous, exotic person than a hack who has accepted too many freebies and is now pressed for time in which to write the payback. The roleplaying does work, and, as I’m shown around the hotel with Liz McGrath’s stylish personal stamp evident everywhere, I think that only a best selling English author could afford to stay here. Other guests include a BBC 1 accent from the old days, a beautiful young German couple in their 30s, and a smattering of minor European royalty. I had always assumed the Marine was the jewel of Hermanus, a grand lady with elegant charm and good taste much like I understand Mrs McGrath to be, until someone mentioned the Birkenhead, which is a more recent property.
I am now in the present at Steenberg again. The noise of barking dogs and squawking birds is too much and I escape nature indoors. The Executive Room that the fabulous Sandy Bailey has arranged for me is magnificent. It is one of two newly built wings. I’m pleased to be in the more modern of the rooms, which, although it has a hint of the CapeDutch period of its neighbours, is in a contemporary style with a glorious bathroom separated by dark-wood American shutters.
I’m at one of two desks on either side of a modern-built armoire which holds the undersized TV and safe and wardrobes.
One of the features of an acceptable hotel are the coffee- and tea-making facilities in the rooms. Anything less than Rombauts individual coffee filters and Twining or Dilmah teas is anaethema and I prefer fresh milk over the UHT plastic milk some hotels provide.
Even though I’ve already had two cups at breakfast and the most delicious Norwegian Shrimp and pink caviar omelet, I’m making myself yet another cup.
At the top luxury level, small things make a difference. I liked the fact that drawers that contained things were left open for me, so I didn’t have the usual treasure hunt looking for more worthwhile things. Something I dislike and find increasingly are a myriad of individually controlled lights – at both Steenberg and the Marine I found myself spending time switching lights on and off rather than working.
A master switch that turns off every light except the bedside and toilet lights is what is needed and, if memory serves me, the Saxon is the only hotel that allows me to control all the lights from my bed. I also really like the fact that there are plastic bound magazines for outdoor reading and iced water is always available at the pool-side.
Best massage
Perhaps the one thing I’ve enjoyed most at Steenberg is the back, shoulder and neck massage I had yesterday. I understand that an extensive spa is planned for Steenberg in the near future now that it is owned by the famous wine-making Beck family. I had one of the best massages ever. Jean, who has just arrived back from two years working in London, has huge hands that almost crushed mine during a handshake but I felt subjugated into relaxation by his gentle strength. As I write this, I am aware of more mobility in my neck than before, even though I feel, as he warned I would, that I’ve done a hard workout at the gym.
The shifting shapes and colours of the Hermanus mountains at sunset is a special sight and the sound of the sea only metres below my window seems in perfect harmony with the crickets.
In trying to find the value in the high rack rate I conclude that the kind of people who stay here – and at other Liz McGrath Collection properties – wish to separate themselves from rabble on the dole who can afford other fine hotels by virtue of the exchange rate.
Marine Hotel, Marine Drive, Hermanus. 028-313-1000
hermanus@relaischateaux.com
Steenberg Hotel, Steenberg Estate, Tokai Road, Tokai. 021-713-2222.
reservations@steenberghotel.com
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