Winding our way home, we visited Ficksburg, cherry capital of the Free State, in search of cherry jam, preserves and schnapps. Here we just happened on a unique little country store, Die Blik Plek, roughly translated, The Tin Place. Housed in a restored Victorian beauty, adorned by broekie-lace ironwork, the store is the brainchild of the petite and dynamic, Ansie Fourie.
Ansie must have bought up every bit of scrap iron for miles around; the rustier, the better. Together with her staff, she is hammering, cutting, welding and painting one man's junk into every woman's treasure.
The area behind the shop is filled with the whimsical and the witty, the nostalgic and the unexpected. Welcome signs, chimes made of old kettles and teapots, bric a brac, tin roses, mirrors in battered wash tubs, bicycles and bumpers, old gates, old prams. This was a treat.
"Jou plek is wonderlik!" (Your place is stunning!)
"Ek is so-o-o-o bly jy geniet dit! Ek is so-o-o-o bly dit is vir jou mooi!" (I'm thrilled you are enjoying it! I am so pleased you find it attractive!"
Fancy an oranate frame to hang, with or without content, on your verandah wall? That was my choice but a little to bulky to tuck under the seat of SA Espress, the intercity jet. I opted for a tin angel instead.
Or fancy a dented teapot in a weathered frame?
Ansie has planted a garden in old school satchels...
and an easy-growing rosette succulent in every boot.
A tongue-in-the-cheek tin sign: Man gelos, hond gehou. Do you really want a translation? Ok, then. Left husband; kept the dog!
Driving through Ficksburg? Want to make a turn at Die Blik Plek? Just keep a look out for the battered wreck on the lawn. You're there!
PS For more interesting places on the globe, visit My World.