A LITTLE CLOSER TO HOMEI live in Franschhoek. How did I not know this?

I live in Franschhoek. How did I not know this?

October has arrived.

Although, if I am honest, I am not entirely sure what happened to September.

There has been paint. Fabric. Furniture. Builders. Decisions. Decisions about decisions. Things moved from one room to another and then, occasionally, moved straight back again.

Maison d’Ail has had rather a lot of my attention.

But we made it.

The dust has settled, the house is ready, and our October guests will be the first to live with all the changes we have been making.

And somewhere in the middle of all this, while I have been very busy looking inside Maison, I started discovering a few things about what is outside our gates.

Things about Franschhoek.

The place where I live.

Things I didn't know.

And apparently there are quite a few of them.

It started with the elephants
Did you know that before Franschhoek was Franschhoek, this valley was known as Oliphantshoek — Elephant Corner?

Because elephants once roamed here.

Actual elephants.

I did not know this.

I knew about the Huguenots. I knew about the farms and the vines and how Franschhoek got its French name.

I did not know that elephants once moved through these mountains.

And now I cannot stop imagining them.

Take away the vineyards, the restaurants, the tasting rooms, the cars and all the things we recognise as modern Franschhoek.

Look at those enormous mountains.

Suddenly elephants don't seem so impossible at all.

In fact, there are old stories of paths through these mountains following routes originally made by elephants.

I love that.

We think we discover places.

Quite often, we are simply following paths made long before us.

Then I stopped looking past the Monument
This is another confession.

I have driven past the Huguenot Monument more times than I could count.

It is simply there.

Beautiful. Familiar. Part of Franschhoek.

And perhaps familiarity is exactly why we stop asking questions.

Because once I did, I discovered that I had been looking at it without really knowing what I was looking at.

Those three enormous arches have meaning. They represent the Trinity.

The female figure beneath them isn't simply decorative. In one hand she holds a Bible. In the other, a broken chain — representing freedom from religious oppression.

Even the water and the garden are part of the story.

And the roses?

I didn't know this either.

The Huguenots made fragrant rosewater from Damask roses.

Suddenly the rose garden isn't simply somewhere pretty to walk.

It means something.

And I think that is what I am enjoying about rediscovering Franschhoek.

Things I have seen many times are beginning to tell me their stories.

And apparently we have a perfume museum
Now this really caught me.

Franschhoek has a perfume museum.

Not only that, but the First South African Perfume Museum forms part of the Huguenot museum complex and has a collection of perfume vessels stretching back centuries.

Perfume.

In Franschhoek.

Who knew?

Well, presumably quite a lot of people.

Just not me.

It made me realise how easily we become tourists in faraway places and slightly lazy in our own.

We will cross a city to see a tiny museum when we're travelling.

At home, we drive past one for years.

Perhaps I need to become a tourist in Franschhoek occasionally.

We also have a theatre with only 40 seats
This is another little discovery I love.

The Franschhoek Theatre is tucked into the old Centenary Library Building in the village.

And it has just 40 seats.

Forty.

There are dinner parties in this valley that feel larger than that.

They show films and host performances, music and talks, and I find the whole idea completely charming.

In a town known internationally for grand wine estates, serious restaurants and rather beautiful hotels, we also have this tiny little theatre hiding in the village.

It is exactly the sort of thing I want our guests to know about.

Not because it appears on a list of things you absolutely must do.

But because it is part of what makes a place a place.

Meanwhile, spring cannot make up its mind
If you've been in Franschhoek recently, you will know exactly what I mean.

Spring has arrived.

Sort of.

We have had rain.

Sun.

Heat.

Cloud.

Wind.

Cold.

And occasionally what feels like all of the above before lunch.

I have given up trying to dress correctly.

October in Franschhoek appears to require sunglasses, a jersey, an umbrella and possibly a swimsuit.

Preferably carried at all times.

But when the sun does come out, everything changes.

The valley is impossibly green.

The vines are waking up.

Gardens are beginning to show off.

Doors open.

People move outside.

And you can feel that something else is coming too.

Season
Franschhoek is starting to wake up for summer.

You notice it gradually.

More people walking through the village.

More accents around the tables.

Restaurants getting busier.

Wine farms beginning to hum.

Saturday mornings becoming Saturday mornings again.

Longer evenings.

Lunches that have absolutely no intention of ending at lunchtime.

There is a lovely energy to it.

And after spending so much of the past few weeks concentrating on getting Maison ready, I think I am ready for it too.

But I am also thinking differently about what I want our guests to discover when they come here.

Of course I want you to drink the wine.

Please drink the wine.

Eat extraordinarily well.

Take the Wine Tram.

Look at the mountains.

Do all the things that brought you to Franschhoek in the first place.

But perhaps also look a little closer.

Walk into the building you've passed twice already.

Ask why something is there.

Talk to someone.

Sit in our tiny theatre.

Go and see the perfume bottles.

Stand beneath the Monument and actually look at the woman holding the broken chain.

Imagine elephants moving through the mountains.

Because I am beginning to think that the best thing about living somewhere — or travelling somewhere — is realising that you will never completely know it.

There is always another story.

Another person.

Another road.

Another bottle of wine.

Another reason to look again.

So this season, get curious
Perhaps that is going to be my own challenge too.

I've come home to South Africa.

I've rediscovered the Western Cape.

I've spent the last few weeks falling in love with Maison d’Ail.

Now perhaps it is time to get to know Franschhoek a little better.

Not the Franschhoek in the brochures.

My Franschhoek.

The strange little stories.

The people.

The places we drive past.

The things hiding behind doors I've never opened.

And if you are staying with us this season, I hope you'll do the same.

Go out.

Taste things.

Ask questions.

Take the turning.

Look up.

Talk to people.

And if you discover something wonderful about Franschhoek that I don't know yet, please come home and tell me.

Because if the elephants are anything to go by, I clearly still have quite a lot to learn.

— Loma
Maison d’Ail, Franschhoek

Go out. Get curious. Come home.