At the entrance, slim double doors make a grander impression than a single door. I found the tile plaque, with a colourful collection of differently shaped doors, in a French market. A Virginia creeper (Parthenocissus quinquefolia) grows freely over the entrance, creating interesting shadow effects.
As my cottage is subject to heritage regulations, it was not possible to extend the existing living space, so instead I went for a generous verandah with a depth of 4.5 metres. This allows plenty of space for ‘big’ outside entertaining. The supports feature my favourite criss-cross beam, echoed in other parts of the house. For more light, two large skylights were installed in the white-painted tongue-and-groove ceiling.
The long, narrow, cement-plastered pool, painted a dark charcoal, is centrally positioned in the formal part of the garden and is the focal point. It is accented with a single line of aubergine-coloured tiles, echoing the hues of the plants above. Three water spouts lend the pool ornamental charm, and at night soft uplights create a romantic atmosphere. Shaped plants, some clipped into stylised balls, others left free, were chosen for their colour, such as the purple heliotrope, white statice, Duranta erecta ‘Sheena’s Gold’ and purple scaevola. I love it when the heliotrope overhangs into the pool and touches the water. The nearby guava tree serves as a jungle gym for the squirrels.
To introduce height behind the pool, I swapped five temperamental conifers for the more solid and reliable option of rust-painted iron posts as an interrupted criss-cross trellis. Potato creeper (Solanum jasminoides) is trimmed and trained to grow thickly on the wrought-iron trelliswork.
During construction of the pool, the builders hit a disused stormwater pipe bang in the middle of the pool. It would have been a nightmare and costly to move, so I decided to brick and plaster around the pipe. It is now a much enjoyed cocktail seat when friends pop in for a summer swim and a glass of chilled sauvignon blanc.
One of a pair of teak daybeds with cushions upholstered in deep purple-and-white striped canvas invites you to relax and listen to the tinkling of the fountain jets in the pool. Despite being in the heart of the village, the atmosphere of the garden is distinctly rural, … and my chickens never starve.
An outdoor shower becomes one with the bathroom when the frameless, folding, glass doors are stacked back. The stonework wall backs a water trough filled with purple water irises and three water spouts muffle the ambient noise of the neighbourhood.
What could have been an unremarkable miniature courtyard is transformed into a visual feature that reflects the recurring trellis theme of the house and garden. The white and brown pebbles behind the urn cost almost nothing and were lovingly plastered one by one, mosaic-style.
To suit my lock-up-and-go lifestyle, I wanted a property that would be maintenance-free, with easy-growing plants for a quick burst of colour. I found a cottage in the heart of Newlands Village, a quaint and charming part of Cape Town, where I inherited not only a lemon and an apple tree, but also a guava tree. Early-rising guinea fowl are a natural alarm clock.
The village started life as a fruit and vegetable-growing hamlet in the late 1600s, and many of its characterful cottages were labourers’ quarters. Here, one of the main challenges is working on a small scale. My intention was to eliminate its ‘cuteness’ and contemporise, without losing its inherent charm.
Harmonising interior and exterior, I decided on a bold accent of deep grape, offset by off-white furnishings in the house, and continued this colour scheme into the outdoors with the furniture coverings, pool tiles and plants. I chose purple and white flowering annuals, snowy Iceberg roses, lavender and shrubs such as heliotrope and white Chinese anemones. Even the gravel chips got the same treatment; two parts white, one part deep purple. Fragrant Sharifa roses and brunfelsia bushes offer a scented greeting, while a mass of high-growing Chinese anemones are a welcome sight at the front door. I don’t use insecticides, so butterflies and bees abound.
Following my yin-yang approach to life, I wanted both an informal and more structured area. With the help of landscape designer Franchesca Watson, we split the garden into two levels: the pool area on the upper section is disciplined, while the lower level, harbouring lemon and apple trees, is the wild garden. This is my favourite spot for contemplation.
Purple irises and white miniature roses surround this battered concrete column, once buried under rubble and now topped with a limestone sundial. It has become the central island at the entrance of the house. Tickey creeper is encouraged partially to cover the sundial.
‘The Chinese proverb, ‘a finished house is a dead house’ also applies to a garden. It can never be complete.’