LOOK | Rachel Kolisi gives glimpse into fun-filled school holidays with her children

1. Return of the Cressida Kid

Rachel Kolisi’s latest camera roll is no manicured influencer spread. It’s straw-in-your-hair, syrup-on-your-chin proof that the Bathurst Agricultural Show still knows how to keep a 127-year party alive. She rolled up in a dented rental opposite the famous pineapple-shaped info booth, stepped onto the same patch of turf where, thirty-odd years earlier, her parents sold Anglican trinkets from a rattling Toyota Cressida. Back then she was booster-seat tall, clutching a hand-stitched apron that bagged second prize. This time she arrived armed with two small negotiators: nine-year-old Nicholas and seven-year-old Keziah, each gripping a R50 note and orders to bargain like they were closing a book deal.

The showground smelled of wet straw and diesel, exactly as memory promised. Inside the rabbit marquee, 212 velvet-furred competitors crouched in stacked hutches. A teen in a 4-H badge leaned in: “Are you the lady from the Springbok wedding?” - because in rural South Africa rugby beats red-carpet fame every time. Rachel knelt anyway, guiding Keziah’s fingers over a Rex rabbit whose coat feels like brushed theater drapes while Nicholas captured slow-motion hops he’d never post; TikTok is banned for the weekend. Outside, a 1940s Lister engine thumped away, powering the same kettle that has brewed show-day tea since before apartheid. Three rooibos cups were balanced past calligraphy-labelled maize to the spot where her grandmother once earned a ribbon for “Most Uniform Mealie Rows.” The children heard the legend of shoe-polished pumpkins during the ’85 drought and absorbed the show’s unofficial rule: look sharp, but look after one another first.

By late morning the loudspeaker crackled alive for the vintage-tractor parade. A 1953 Massey-Ferguson clattered by, driven by 82-year-old Mr. Cedric Hart, the math teacher who once drilled fractions into her eight-year-old brain. He cut the engine, hugged her, and produced laminated proof of her primary-school self perched on that very hub. Strangers cheered; cellphones snapped; dentures briefly hit the turf - an incident already headed for local lore before the exhaust smoke cleared.

2. Iron, Wool & a Side of Politics

Lunch meant pineapple rings wedged around boerewors, dripping chutney onto a corrugated-iron counter whose hand-painted menu still advertises “cool drinks in returnable bottles.” Rachel bargained a social-media tag for a discount, leaving both stall owner and celebrity slightly bewildered and equally delighted. They ate on hay bales while a school choir fired off “Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrika,” competing with restless Dorper lambs for airtime. Keziah wanted to know why the anthem keeps changing its language; her mother translated each verse, turning Xhosa images of “axes ringing” and “waterfalls tumbling” into English so vivid the child could taste copper in the air.

Next dilemma: dairy-judging or the farrier shed? Lindiwe the blacksmith settled it. She flexed bridge-cable arms while explaining how she learned to shoe horses in Mpumalanga despite an elder who swore female smiths invite ancestral wrath. Nicholas recorded the metallic clang for a school project; Keziah pocketed cooled nail clippings as proof of dragons. Rachel left holding a hand-forged potato peeler, every future Sunday meal now stamped with the memory of coal smoke and perseverance.

Nearby, politicians hawked fibre-to-the-farm promises ahead of a by-election. Voters stayed put; an Angora goat was about to face the judge. Rachel snapped a picture of the slogan “Agriculture feeds the nation” positioned directly above a betting-company banner - an image destined for a keynote speech on moral dissonance, but for now filed under “later.”

3. Holograms, Harmonicas & a Double Rainbow

Mid-afternoon thunder chased them into the three-storey fiberglass pineapple that doubles as a museum. Inside, a hologram of a flannel-clad 1920s farmer explained how Bathurst pioneered Smooth Cayenne pineapples on African soil. Keziah wondered aloud if pineapples dream; Nicholas questioned whether the hologram ran on ChatGPT. Fresh fruit slices shut both inquiries down, sweetness like candied sunrise on their tongues. While rain drummed the roof, a British rugby dad offered polite sympathy about the divorce; Rachel deflected by teaching his daughter to ask “Ukhona uSiya?” - Is Siya here? The phrase became the weekend’s running joke.

When the storm cleared, a double rainbow stretched over the tractor ring and someone’s grandpa launched into “Shosholoza” on a harmonica. The scene felt staged yet wholly true, the kind of contradiction she now mines for a book on heritage tourism. Lantern-lit show-jumping wrapped the evening: teenagers vaulted hay bales bareback while parents live-streamed to WhatsApp groups named “Bathurst Moms 4 Jesus.” Rachel’s children lobbied to enter next year’s Best-Dressed Pony class; she counter-offered a deal: read five books on local breeds and she’ll borrow Mr. Hart’s tractor, retrofit it with shelves, and create a travelling library. Pineapple milkshakes glowing under floodlights sealed the pact.

4. Terrapins, Tractor Hubs & the Long Way Home

They stayed until security swept the grounds. A sleepy Keziah rode to the car in her mother’s arms; Nicholas clutched a spur-of-the-moment rosette for “Most Enthusiastic Young Farmer.” The boot bulged with seed packets, a hand-carved walking stick, and a leaflet already advertising 2025 dates. Twelve kilometres of gravel later, the kids collapsed onto 1820-settler brass beds while Rachel uploaded one frame to Instagram: the double rainbow mirrored in chrome. “Ityala loyiko alinankqonkqoza,” she captioned it - The rain we fear makes no warning knock. Fifty-thousand likes arrived in minutes, yet the metric meant little beside the scent of storm still clinging to her sweater.

Days bled into mud-wading adventures: tagging terrapins with Rhodes researchers, reading Jock slang-translated to farm kids in a railway-carriage library, betting guinea-fowl feathers on morabaraba. Wi-Fi faded; childhood imagination rebooted. On the last dawn they hiked Waters Meeting Trail, where the Kap and Kowie rivers famously refuse to mingle. Rachel paralleled the watery standoff with cultures or marriages that never quite blend. Nicholas asked if rivers can divorce; she answered that they simply choose new channels, leaving oxbow lakes as keepsakes.

The drive back to Cape Town took eight hours, two pineapple pies, and one spontaneous shoe purchase in Grahamstown. Cresting Sir Lowry’s Pass, Rachel watched the Hottentots-Holland peaks shrink in the mirror, aware the holiday had solved nothing and fixed everything. In the weeks that followed, terrapin data would feed an online atlas, the library book would surrender its spine, and Bathurst’s straw would be baled for 2025. Yet each artifact - fermenting in phone galleries and childhood memory - would sweeten like pineapples in the sun, waiting for the next storm when a tractor coughs alive and someone, somewhere, decides it’s time to go home.

[{"question": "

What is the Bathurst Agricultural Show?

", "answer": "The Bathurst Agricultural Show is a 127-year-old annual event in rural South Africa, featuring agricultural competitions, vintage tractor parades, local crafts, and family activities. It celebrates local heritage and community spirit, offering a nostalgic experience with traditions like rabbit judging and farm-fresh food. Rachel Kolisi and her family attended, highlighting its enduring charm."},
{"question": "

Who attended the Bathurst Agricultural Show?

", "answer": "Rachel Kolisi, along with her children Nicholas and Keziah, attended the Bathurst Agricultural Show. She also reconnected with old acquaintances like Mr. Cedric Hart, her former math teacher, and observed other attendees like a British rugby dad and local politicians."},
{"question": "

What activities did Rachel Kolisi and her family enjoy at the show?

", "answer": "The Kolisi family enjoyed a variety of activities including visiting the rabbit marquee, observing a 1940s Lister engine, watching the vintage-tractor parade, eating boerewors and pineapple rings, witnessing dairy judging and blacksmithing demonstrations, and exploring the pineapple-shaped museum with a hologram farmer. They also saw show-jumping and experienced a double rainbow."},
{"question": "

What childhood memories did Rachel Kolisi revisit at the show?

", "answer": "Rachel revisited memories of her parents selling Anglican trinkets from a Toyota Cressida at the show, winning second prize for a hand-stitched apron, and her grandmother earning a ribbon for 'Most Uniform Mealie Rows.' She also reconnected with her former math teacher, Mr. Cedric Hart, who had proof of her primary-school self on his tractor."},
{"question": "

What was the significance of the trip for the Kolisi family?

", "answer": "The trip served as a reminder about family, heritage, and the simple joys of life, away from screens and city noise. It allowed Rachel to share her childhood memories with her children and create new ones filled with fun and adventure, fostering a deeper connection to their roots and the community."
},
{"question": "

What unique experiences did Rachel's children have during their visit?

", "answer": "Nicholas and Keziah experienced bargaining for goods, learned about Rex rabbits, witnessed blacksmith Lindiwe at work, collected cooled nail clippings as 'proof of dragons,' and explored the pineapple museum. They also lobbied to enter the Best-Dressed Pony class next year and enjoyed pineapple milkshakes. Nicholas even received a rosette for 'Most Enthusiastic Young Farmer.'"}]