By Roslyn Houghton
I have many memories of Nyanga… as the water seeps out of the ground, it shines on the rock formations as it tumbles or trickles through crevices, making its long journey to the seaside next door in Mozambique. The wind whispers through the pine trees as we walk, the sharp fragrance of pine needles ever present as we gather pine cones, either for our log fires or for Christmas decorations! As kids, we made forts in the pine needles, burying ourselves in them as we played.
It was the first place I ever saw a water wheel in a beautifully appointed garden with a stream running through the plants and shrubs. The homeowner made the most marvellous fruit preserves, jams and chutneys from fruits from the orchard she had nurtured for decades.
The churches are also unique. I recall a stay at Tintagenal Cottage, not far from the Casino Hotel. Every day for ten days my dear friend and I would take a walk, finding different paths and roads to explore as we nibbled on fresh fruits picked off fruiting trees along the way. We discovered a little church where the cross was a silhouette through the large windows. We watched an eagle flying over the mountains through the view behind the altar in the blue skies ahead and above…