Quarterly Report

On my previous blog, I used to publish so-called "quarterly reports": short summaries of what has been happening in my life lately. Although this new blog isn’t strictly intended to document my daily routines, I often get asked "how things are going." So, I’ve decided to revive the tradition.

To do this properly, I need to look back a bit further than just three months. Let’s start with Italy. As you might have seen in the interview with Ivo Niehe, we are working on a beautiful—and challenging—project just south of Rome. A house on a hill, about which I will tell you much more in the future. For now, it suffices to say that after a long test of our patience, we finally took possession of the house and the surrounding land in June last year.

From that moment on, we began "setting up camp." The main house had no working electricity or running water. Fortunately, there is a smaller cottage where things work slightly better. However, due to a leak in the municipal water line, we were initially reliant on a barrel of rainwater—which cost me dearly when I picked up a nasty bacteria that led to a hospital visit.

But gradually, we managed to shape our lives there. Eventually, we were even able to host guests; two of our children and several friends found their way to us. Meanwhile, our circle of Italian friends grew steadily, bringing a lot of warmth and sociability.

Life there is 100% Italian. Very few people in our area speak English, so we have to adapt to their language—which is going better and better. Good communication is especially vital for our construction crew, whom we finally managed to get to work just before our departure for South Africa. Under the inspired leadership of our project manager Remo, work is progressing steadily. Hopefully, around the time we return in April, we can install the kitchen and begin the finishing touches.

In the meantime, my book was launched. To support the promotion, various interviews and articles were planned, and in the final days of our stay in Italy, I was able to record that wonderful interview with Ivo. The festive launch party followed via Zoom once we had stepped back into our South African lives in early November.

The book promotion has kept me very busy—and still does. In addition to the publisher's efforts, I’ve started my own small "promotion agency," gratefully utilizing the experience and expertise of  Maaike and Catelijne.

Because writing the book gave me so much joy, I’ve decided to make the routine of writing a permanent part of my life. You could say I am now a writer by profession. The weekly "editorial meetings" we had for the book are now dedicated to this new blog and to developing new stories and book ideas.

The period from early November to mid-December was relatively quiet. Few visitors, though we had a lovely time with a heavily pregnant Tess and little Naya. Other than that, there were many wonderful evenings with Lydia on the couch, watching series—something that doesn't happen often!

Lydia went to the Netherlands for Christmas, and I, too, wanted to join the big family dinner for once. I arranged a large space for the event to minimize any risk of infection and hopped on a plane for a five-day stay in Amsterdam. I soaked up the Christmas atmosphere and the fresh air, tried to keep my mask on as much as possible, but eventually succumbed to a restaurant visit. Overconfident because of how well I felt and full of energy, I didn't quite stick to the "rules" I had written (and tested) for myself. Upon returning to Cape Town, I spent three days hoping I had escaped unscathed; I even went for bike rides. But on the fourth day, the curtain fell, and a virus crawled into my lungs. This time, I didn't wait for pneumonia but struck back preventatively with antibiotics. It worked—more or less—but all in all, it took a long time to get back to my pre-Christmas levels. A good lesson: I am not invulnerable yet. I still have to be very careful, as one small cold can still knock me sideways.

And then things got really exciting: at the end of January, Tess was about to give birth. Lydia was on standby and, as soon as the contractions seemed to start, she jumped on a plane and made it to London just in time to assist with the birth and look after Naya.

And suddenly, there was our little Gabi!! Gabriel Louis, our third grandchild and the son of Tess and Danilo. A wonderful, super-relaxed little man added to our family.

Meanwhile, storms were raging within this small family. Dad Danilo is a professional football player and was on the verge of leaving his club, Glasgow Rangers. The transfer window—the period when clubs can negotiate—fell exactly around Gabriel's birth. So, a tug-of-war took place between two agents and three clubs over the future of Gabi's Papa. And that of the whole family. They had to move. But where to? The whole process caused a great deal of worry and unrest.

The outcome is that Danilo is moving to NEC Nijmegen, at least for the next six months. In the meantime, the family is temporarily moving into our house in Amsterdam. Lydia helped Tess pack everything in Glasgow, and they have since arrived in Amsterdam with the two little ones. Lydia rejoins me this Tuesday, which I am very much looking forward to! And then, hopefully, Tess will visit here with the children in March so I can finally meet my grandson.

Alongside all these family matters, there are business affairs keeping me busy. Our sauce startup, Backyardfarms, has grown into a full-fledged company. Over the past six months, we’ve faced quite a few challenges in logistics and sales, mainly caused by integrating a new distributor (more stock in more places) and introducing several new products that didn't move as fast as our customers (the supermarkets) expected. Additionally, some slip-ups by those supermarkets forced us into overtime one month and nearly ground us to a halt the next.

Because of these issues, we haven't been able to focus enough on further growth—more products and new markets—or on scaling up our farming activities (having women grow our peppers). So, I am now trying to separate operational activities from new business development and our agricultural efforts. I still need a few good people for that. There are plenty of opportunities—new products and partnerships—to double our turnover several times over, provided we can give them enough attention. It’s well worth pursuing, ultimately so we can keep more people employed. Paid work is the scarcest commodity in this country.

And then, one more arrow in my quiver. Last year, I started a special project with my cousin Frits: The Initiative. We are building a leadership program in South Africa for ambitious talent from all backgrounds. Many young people here look abroad for a "golden future" in Euros or Pounds, which means a lot of talent is lost while there is so much to be done locally.

We want to support a generation that truly believes in the future of their own country; (future) leaders in politics, education, and business who choose ethical growth over self-enrichment. This country has so much wealth and offers so many opportunities. The key to broader prosperity lies in stimulating entrepreneurship and reducing corruption. This month we have our first event: a four-day workshop, off the grid, in the mountains of the Karoo. The goal is for the participants to eventually take the lead and organize future editions themselves. This way, we hope to create a powerful, autonomous community—eventually without the interference of white foreigners like myself. You can read more at www.theinitiative.co.za.

And then there is the renovation in Italy to manage. Fortunately, it turns out that Italians perform best when you don't breathe down their necks. Despite minimal communication and disappointing weather, a significant amount of work has already been done.

All in all, these are not exactly "Zeroist" times... I really have to watch my balance. A nap every afternoon and getting to bed on time helps.

As I write this, I have escaped the city for a moment. I’m staying for a few days in a beautiful house in Elands Bay, right on the beach. The waves are rolling, the wind is blowing, and my dog is happily pottering around. A few hours outside of Cape Town. A moment away, a moment to clear my head, and a moment to just write!