Since moving to Pretoria, my husband and I have done the trip to Tzaneen numerous times. As a result, we know how long it usually takes, and any deviations from this average time really annoy us. So when we left there on Sunday and knew there were road works on the way, we took evasive action.

My dad had told us about a shortcut many locals were taking through the mountain dirt roads. I was fairly sure I would remember the way, and if not ‘it would all come back to me’ when we were there. We got stuck at the first set of road works which was pretty unavoidable, but also served to heighten our resolve to take the ‘shortcut’.

And so at 15:30 we turned onto the less beaten track. It started off okay, but then we reached the first fork in the road and from there it all went downhill. Firstly, it’s been nearly a decade since I drove those roads. Secondly, they all look the same. Pretty soon we were completely lost, but I had my GPS on my cell so we were following that.

And then … we lost cell phone signal.

Unsure of what direction we were travelling in anymore, but too far gone to try and retrace our steps we pressed onwards into the pine plantations. Great was my relief when we came across the Woodbush Picnic Sight – finally a recognisable landmark! I was feeling a bit emotional though since I’d gotten us so thoroughly lost, but Colin reassured me that we weren’t in danger ‘unless those placid looking cows turn on us …’

And then … it started to rain.

At first it was a few drops, but pretty soon it turned into a hail storm of epic proportions. The dirt road turned slick, and my city-friendly Audi A3 suddenly seemed a lot more out of place. Just as the situation was really starting to concern us we found the road we were supposed to be on, which mercifully turned into tar 200 metres further on. At least now we knew we wouldn’t get stuck.

But then … the downpour turned into a deluge.

We had to shout at each other to be heard above the hail. The water was sheeting over the road and our windscreen wipers just weren’t up to the challenge. We considered pulling over and waiting it out, but there was nowhere to stop. We slowed to a crawl and I did some serious praying as visions of us aquaplaning off the cliff flashed through my mind. Twenty long minutes later the rain eased. A stunning rainbow arched over us as we breathed a sigh of relief.

I wish I could tell you that the story ended there, but no! At the second last toll gate disaster struck. There was an accident on the highway and we were diverted. As we crawled along in the bumper to bumper traffic we laughed ironically at our bad luck.

And then … the petrol light started beeping at us.

‘You have 40km to go before you are stranded on a dodgy road after dark,’ it said. That 40km had been reduced to 10, when, an hour later, we joined the highway again. Not being 100% sure where we were now, we didn’t know if we’d missed the last petrol station or if it was just over the next rise. Fortunately it was the later, and we managed to crawl up to the pump just before we ran dry.

Devilish though road works are – in future I’ll be picking them all the way!

My incredible sister in law, Leigh Anne, is leaving for Scotland on Friday to play in the Women’s Touch Rugby World Cup. To mark this auspicious occasion, I decided to make her Springbok-colour cupcakes emblazoned with the profoundly motivational words, ‘Kick ass Annie’. My shopping excursion went well. I found green and yellow food colouring, gold stars and even little rugby balls made from icing. Yesterday I downloaded a Nigella Lawson cupcake recipe (because her baking recipes have never failed me), and set about creating my vision.

The actual cupcake baking was a success. I left them to cool and then had an afternoon nap, dreaming all the while about the brilliant icing job I was going to pull off later. I mixed the icing and divided it in two – one for green and one for gold. Anyone who has ever worked with food colouring will know that it’s a temperamental foe. Beautifully coloured icing can go horribly wrong with just a slight slip of the hand. I added a touch of green to the first bowl. It was too light. I added another touch … and another … and another. I added nearly half the bottle of colouring, but instead of going a nice dark green, my icing just became more lumo! Putting my disappointment aside, I forged ahead …

Based on my experience with the green colouring, my initial dose of yellow was more liberal than was probably wise. To my shock and horror my golden icing had a distinctly pumpkin-orange hue. Lumo green and pumpkin-orange do not really say ‘Springboks’ to me, but I thought if I could at least do the icing nicely it would all be okay …

I had purchased some plastic icing bags because I knew that sandwich bags have a tendency to be too thin and therefore burst at the seams when used to pipe icing. I set about trying to track them down. After searching high and low I was forced to concede defeat and out came the sandwich bags. The next 20 minutes were characterised by extreme frustration and very messy icing writing. By the last few cupcakes my skills had drastically improved and the letters weren’t actually too bad, which really only served to highlight how appalling the first few were. I tried to do some repair work, but the end result did not really meet my expectations.

My final decision was to give them to her anyway. She is family and therefore more forgiving, and I’m holding strongly to the old adage that it’s the thought that counts! I have realised though that while in my mind I may be a cake-decorating prodigy, my skills are keeping my firmly in the amateur division.