Last weekend, I sat down with the boys to watch the Springboks finish their unbeaten tour against Wales. It should’ve carried that electric, knife-edge energy you expect from a test match. Instead, it played out like a dominant training run. The boys quickly decided to skip it and go build an unsanctioned house for what they believed to be a homeless man outside the pub (he was really just a patron with a nicotine habit), and I watched it – kind of. It was, to be honest, not

Taking my boys to a little golf mashie tournament up the road sounded harmless enough. Over the last few years, we’ve spent many afternoons meandering around a twilight back nine when the other adult players were out of sight. The kids run amok, I write it off to childlike enthusiasm. And for sure, nobody is keeping score, nobody is in a hurry, nobody melts down. Then, without warning, the moment we turned “fun walkabout” into “actual competition with rules and required finis

There’s a specific emotional whiplash that comes with watching your child step into a new chapter. AJ is off to Jan van Riebeeck Primary School next year. “Big” school, broader horizons, and all that wide-eyed excitement only a six-year-old can summon before he even knows what awaits him. It’s pure joy, framed by parental anxiety if we can keep up with the pace (which is hectic, I’m told). But joy tends to drag its shadow behind it. His new beginning means our ending at Huppe

When I think about the best decisions I’ve made in life, almost all of them were borrowed. My earliest mentors were my father and his business competitor and friend, Jannie Gildenhuys. They didn’t teach through lectures, they modelled through motion. I watched them shake hands on trust, lose money without losing integrity, and keep showing up. That was my first MBA - free, practical, and brutally honest. I could never fully be my extroverted father, who built his success on r

This past Saturday, I was mountain biking with the boys in Bloemendal. After the ride, we were sitting down for a drinks break when a stranger walked up and offered AJ an ice cream their family had bought by mistake. Kindness out of nowhere. Then Matie arrived from the track, saw the ice cream, and launched into a mini-meltdown. The same family, bless them, went and  bought him one . I protested… they insisted. It struck me how often this happens. A stranger buys my kids ice

When I started  PG Tops Travel & Tours , I was just another hopeful entrepreneur with a laptop, a minivan, and a mountain of enthusiasm. What I didn’t have was trust. In travel, as in life, trust is the ultimate currency, and it’s not granted easily. It took years of small wins, awkward partnerships, and slow-building credibility before the industry started to see us not as the new kid with a glossy brochure, but as a reliable partner. Once that happened, once the alliances w

I’ve been playing golf since I was 14 years old. That’s 37 years of walking fairways, losing balls, and chasing that one pure strike that makes the whole maddening sport worth it. Over the years, I’ve had flashes of brilliance: a single-digit handicap in school, a few under-par rounds, and one glorious hole-in-one at the Seekers Pro-Am. But mostly? It’s a messy business. Inconsistent, infuriating, and as honest a mirror as life will ever hand you. Fluffed chips, hooked irons,

Last weekend, I went to Oktoberfest with Caroline. Only, it was a local beerfest version. And although there was beer and pork product, it felt off. Caroline and I concurred - it was the bands. They were just not… cheesy enough? On the way to the beach afterwards with the kids, we decided to save our musical day, and I tracked down an Après Ski playlist on Spotify. I was taken aback when half the songs on it were from a kids’ movie I had just watched with the boys the night b

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For every Scottie Scheffler, there are a thousand Shane Lowrys. Men who do well but don’t grab the attention or headlines. Except for...

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Oh, so good. So, so good. After years and years of early Saturday mornings to watch predictable hammerings or last-minute heartbreak at...

Six years ago, I rehired Yolanda as my assistant. It felt indulgent: surely I could manage my own inbox and calendar? But the truth was,...

The year was 1998, and I was with my dad in Wellington when Pieter “Slaptjips” Rossouw took a short pass from Henry Honnibal to score...

Last weekend we went as a family to watch the Springboks take on the Wallabies at DHL Stadium. We have some new traditions: the MyCiti...

I’m a classic Enneagram Type Seven, “The Enthusiastic Visionary.” I’ve got a lust for adventure, for new experiences, for filling my...