The Road to Cape Town (and Why Planning Isn’t Everything)
Sometimes, having a plan is essential. Take a drive to Cape Town, for example. There are a number of ways to get there. Do you want to take the most direct route? Then you’ll find yourself heading through the Karoo — efficient, yes, but mind-numbingly boring.
Alternatively, you can take your time. At Colesberg, you could hang a left and meander through the Eastern Cape. You’ll encounter rugged, beautiful scenery — magical places like Hole in the Wall and Sedgefield — before entering the Western Cape through landscapes so magnificent you’ll forget you’ve driven umpteen kilometres to get there.
It all depends on what experience you want, how much time you have, and what really matters to you. That knowledge guides your decision.
When Planning Gets in the Way
But here’s the thing: sometimes you don’t need a map. Sometimes, instead of spending hours planning every detail (and exhausting yourself so much that you never actually do the thing), you just dive in.
You take the bull by the proverbial horns, you create, and you see what happens.
Sometimes, the result is magnificent.
Other times, it needs a tweak or two.
And sometimes, the real value lies in what you’ve learned — knowledge that makes the next attempt so much better.
From “Haute Cuisine” to Experiments in Spice
If you know me, you’ll know I never used to like cooking. At all. My idea of haute cuisine was grabbing a packet of roasted veggies from Pick n Pay, plonking a chicken on top, coating it with olive oil and spice, and roasting it for hours, hoping for the best.
Since crossing the big 4-0, though, I’ve become fascinated with Indian cuisine — the spices, the combinations, the sheer creativity. I’ve also developed a bit of a game: seeing what’s in the fridge and reinventing it into something new.
Case in point: I once bought two packs of chicken mince (my husband is not a fan, which made me determined to win him over). We had leftover egg-fried rice, and my brain immediately jumped to a Chinese-meets-Indian fusion.
I melted butter with olive oil, fried up red onions and garlic, then browned the mince in the mixture. A cup and a half of Chardonnay went in, and I let it simmer. After half an hour, I added heaped teaspoons of cumin and coriander powder, and let it simmer again.
The result? Subtle flavours that really came alive the next day. Because I’d slow-cooked everything, the chicken mince stayed tender instead of tough. And yes, I stretched the leftovers into lunch the next day with frozen corn. (Perks of working for yourself: even lunch can be an occasion.)
The Lesson on Creativity
Not everything turns out the way you first imagine. But that doesn’t mean it’s a failure. It just means the process is unfolding differently than you pictured.
The truth is, every attempt teaches you something. Sometimes you discover an entirely new path. Sometimes you sharpen an idea for next time. And sometimes you’re surprised by how much better the result is than you ever expected.
Whether it’s planning a road trip, experimenting in the kitchen, or tackling a creative project — the best results often come from a mix of direction, curiosity, and courage to just start.