Divemaster GranDad

How to keep your baby amused...

2011-12-19T11:28:00.002-01:00

Tamlyn sent me a short audio file of LJ giggling away, caused by something really quite simple...a roll of Sellotape.

I added a few photos and words, to create a little FLV video file...

Here it is...

It's been a while since I posted anything...

2011-12-12T10:43:00.005-01:00

...but it's been due to a surprise overseas trip I pulled off last week.

I couldn't tell anyone, except those that needed to know, as I needed to make sure I had a place to stay (sister) and that my daughter and granddaughter (son-in-law) would be in town (imagine going all that way only to find that they'd buggered off to Europ for a week, or something as equally disappointing).

I planned the whole thing at the beginning of September, just after the birth of Layla Jane (born 4 hours after my birthday ended due to complications) and had to keep it a secret until now.

That said, I'll write a whole piece on the trip and post some of the hundreds of photos that I took on the trip, sometime this week.

I just thought, for now, I'd better let my only reader know that I'd been away...

Here are some pics to keep you waiting in antici---pation...

The main reason(s) I went over. Mum, dad and granddaughter

The outside temperature, taken from the car, at 10h30 in the morning....-1degC!!

Imagine waking up to fresh snow on your first morning in Scotland....I did...

Some family and friends at one of the numerous get-togethers (piss-ups) we had

Full moon over the Scottish Saltire (flag), flying over the Edinburgh cathedral at the bottom of Princes Street, on my last night "back hame"

Edinburgh Castle lit up in all its glory, with the trees up the hill decked out in fairy lights

Drinking gluhwein in the German Market at the foot of the Castle. Usually I don't touch the stuff, but the stall was called "Fire Punch" so we thought we would give it a go...and I had three mugs

The snow I woke up to on the last morning of my trip...

These photos were all off my cellphone, but I'll post some better quality pics from my DSLR soon...

Surprised? Not me...

2011-11-08T08:02:00.003-01:00

Whacko Jacko's doctor was found guilty of involuntary manslaughter. Is anyone surprised? Certainly, I'm not. He was fucked from the start. He killed America's favourite black and white son.

Still, it's highly unlikely that he'll serve any time in anything worse than a motel for celebrities.

According to the news, he's on suicide alert. WTF for? The Whacko family is already saying justice has been served, but has it? Will a guilty verdict bring the fuckwit paedophile back? No, it won't. But Murray's suicide will ring the old "eye for an eye" idiom true and then there will be closure. Then the Whacko's can claim closure, but not justice.

Damn Hollywood trials...hate the fuckin' lot of them. All they do is take up airwave space that would be better off used on other more menaingful news...real news...

Of Boulders, Blooms, Diesel Tanks and Dust - Part 3

2011-10-05T11:14:00.007-01:00

Oops....so this escaped me for a while. I suppose I better publish the next episode...

From our campsite next to the sea, we had a short climb back onto another dirt road, which was to be the norm for the next couple of days. We camped so close to the water that you could just about pee into the ocean (but we wouldn't do that, we're conservation-minded folks).

At a pitstop a short while later, I came across a pile of sun-bleached bones which, althought we did not know for sure, were probably the remains of some small buck of sorts. This part of the coast is really desolate and we would go for days without seeing any other living thing.

The drawer system really paid itself off, even though this was just our first trip with it. SWMSBO didn't have to climb into the back of the Mazda-rati to get stuff out, and I didn't have to bugger my back up lifting heavy bins so that she could get a kettle out for a cup of tea. Win-win.

There were a large number of abandoned diamond digs along our route and this is where this one, like all the others, ended up...down the toilet. But is that a room-with-a-view, or what?

In the heat of the day, we came across the wreck of the wreck of the Namaqua, which ran aground in 1876. There is some confusion when researching the Namaqua wreck as there were two ships of the same name, and both wrecked in the same general area, the second one near Port Nolloth in 1889. All that remains of this one is the large pistons from the boiler room, still impressive. I could not get near to the wreck due to a deep water channel between the rocks and I wasn't going to risk my EOS in swimming across between waves.

Our campsite for the day was called exactly that on our itinerary, "Camp Site" and I'm still not sure what the proper name for it was. Needless to say, it was picked out carefuly, so that we were sheltered from the elements to enjoy the beauty of the nature around us.

The following morning, the clouds and miserable weather moved in and we had some rain along the way, but it also helped to cool things down for a bit as we had had some quite hot weather during the days to this point, even if they were a little windy.

Another lighthouse...short term memory loss causes me to forget the name now. Surprisingly, even with all the fog and low cloud, the light was not operating. No wonder it's called The Skeleton Coast...

Our next stop was at the mouth of the Groen Rivier (Green River), even though the water was definatley not green in colour (where do they get these names from?). Just after this, we turned off this road and into the Eco Trail and some decent sand driving, great fun in a 4x4.

On this part of the coast, there is a colony of Cape Fur seals and, while they look all cute and cuddly, they stink to high heaven. It's not a place for the queasy-stomach crowd, as the smell of urine and shit is quite strong. Even the offshore wind did not take all the smell away. Here are a few of the smelly inhabitants of the area.

This little episode was quite sad. A female seal had recently aborted her unborn pup and was now desperately trying to defend the body from the scavenging seagulls and other seals around her. We sat and watched this for probably a half hour so are not sure how it all ended, but it probably wasn't good for the mother. In this pic, you can see the foetus in her mouth as she tried to protect it.

You could see the sadness in her eyes and I think she knew that she would have to relinquish her baby to the predators around her. She was just postponing the inevitable for as long as she could.

Mr C, giving us his best Kilroy impersonation.

Our next campsite, at Koringkorrelbaai (Corn Kernel Bay). The weather had really closed in by now and even I had to dress warmly. During last year's trip through the Kgalagadi, I only once had to wear warm pants, but this trip was different and I ended up getting dressed up on a number of occasions. One of the nice things of this site were the stone walls built by the park authorities to act as wind breakers as they really helped to keep our campfire in check.

One of the gazebo's was erected for a bit more shelter and was a blessing with the side panel mounted to deflect the wind more.

If you enjoy camping and you haven't got one of these gazebo's, why not? This is where they pay themselves off...

This is what happens when you arrive relatively early at a campsite and it gets cold. We had a similar episode in Polentswa last year, where everything that could possibly put a heat in you, gets consumed at a rate to try and prove the point. In both cases, it worked. But what a view to get trollied with, huh?

Bundled up against the cold. Thank fuck for the new sleeping bags too.

The blazing campfire, with grids being fire-washed for the evening's braai. Can't beat a braai in the open, next to the sea, freezing cold, lots of "anti-freeze" being consumed...can't wait for my retirement in a few years so that we can go and do this more regularly.

By now, the wind had dropped a little and we could sit around the fire. Later that evening, Mr C and SWMSBO had headed for their respective tents and sleeping bags, and Mrs C and I sat and stared at the stars for a while, drinking Laphroaig 10yr Old Quarter Cask Scotch...best tipple in the world.

I'll try to not let so much time pass before the next instalment...promise...

I got published on Watkykjy...

2011-09-27T11:39:00.002-01:00

I sent the guys at Watkykjy a couple of pics of a really fucked up car I spotted in Struisbaai when we were through there fishing a couple of weekends ago.

The guys published the pics, so go here to check them out (and read some of the comments...they're hilarious in themselves)...

A Gift in the Post...

2011-09-19T13:45:00.003-01:00

I had an idea what the Post Office parcel notification was for, but wasn't sure, as it also could have been a speeding fine I think I may have committed a couple of weeks ago.

Thankfully, it was not a fine.

It was, in fact, the gift that the Daft Scots Lass (ADSL) sent me for winning her Caption My Photo competition recently.

How kewl is this? ADSL sends everyone, who wins her weekly competition, a "wee gift" as a prize. But, to top it all, in my case she also sent me a couple of fridge magnets that I can use to put up photos of my granddaughter, born recently, and a personalised note, "Fir Yer Wee Bairn".

In addition to the fridge magnets, there's also a pocket knife thingy which will be handy in the car (or when I try and break out of a wooden prison someday - that saw adapter on the tool is fuckin' sharp), a book which looks like it could be a good read, and a handwritten note in a card (not too often these days that someone sends a greeting card with a handwritten note in it).Very kewl...

Paper-clipped to the card were a couple of ADSL's unique peel-and-stick tattoos. Sometimes, folks stick them somewhere and send ADSL a photo of the tattoo, some in unusual places.

I thought that, to contribute my little bit of "unusual", I would do something a little different (perhaps ADSL has had one sent to her like this before, I don't know) and this is what I will email her shortly...I think the humour is right up her alley (or, case in point, right next to mine)...

ADSL, thanks for the gifts...they are much appreciated.

Tequila is your friend...

2011-09-19T13:27:00.003-01:00

It never used to be, following an ugly episode when I was about 20, in which myself, my brother and an old friend got horribly pissed during a tequila drinking competition.

BTW...never do that. Never have a tequila drinking competition. It is one that you WILL NOT win. No-one ever wins a tequila drinking competition, but then nobody tells you that when you're 20 years old either.

I digress...

I was at a monthly meeting of our NSRI station and, with the command of the station having been handed over to a new bloke, we decided to go and have a couple of drinks to celebrate. Actually, it's the way he generates his popularity with the young crew we have.

Anyway, a couple of pints later and I decide I had better do my duty as a new grandfather and buy everyone a drink to toast her birth. I felt like something unusual so one of the guys tells me about this new caramel-flavoured tequila that's on the market. "Not a blinding fuck", I tell him, relating my competition-losing episode to him.

"Come on, you'll enjoy it", he says and takes me into the bar where a mate of his is the barman and asks him to bring down the bottle. "Sniff that", he says and, much to my pleasure, it smells really caramel-ish. My head's telling me "But it's tequila", but I tell my head to shut-the-fuck-up and order a dozen shots.

Three of the mates chickened out of the toast (fuck you lot) so I had more than my fair share of the stuff, and it wasn't all that bad, I must be honest...

So...go out and get a bottle. Arriba Tequila is now your friend...

Here's another pic...

2011-09-05T05:31:00.002-01:00

This is a far nicer pic of LJ, I think.

You can see straight away that she's not as puffy after the birth experience as with the previous pic...

Gorgeous wee lass...

Boulders, Blooms, Diesel Tanks and Dust - Part 2

2011-09-01T09:49:00.015-01:00

From Tietiesbaai, we had a long-ish day of about 300km ahead of us. A lot of it would be along sandy tracks but it proved to be fun driving.

We headed out after the morning "coffee and rusks" ritual, something we would do every day of the trip. Our first stop was Laaiplek ("Loading Place") a little fishing establishment on the edge of a dorpie called Velddrif ("Field Drift"?.....hmmmm). We wanted to see if we could get some fresh fish to enjoy on the braai for the evening, but it turned out that all they produced (that day, at least) was Bokkoms, a dried-out mullet which is savoured by many of the local folk. Personally, I stay away from them. My son-in-law, Scott, enjoyed them on their recent visit, but there's no choosing family, is there? ;-)

As it happens, there was no fresh fish, only dried stuff, so we stopped in at a little take-away place to order a toasted sandwich for the road and get some firewood. It must have taken almost an hour for them to sort out the toasted sarnies. I thought Cape Town was slow sometimes. Also, the lady who sells the firewood is not there on Mondays either, so we couldn't get any wood. Maybe she should take her sign down over the weekends...

Hanging from the rafters are rows of drying mullet, or Bokkoms, as they are known in these parts.

This is the Laaiplek harbour entrance, with the main channel running on the left. Not a swell or wave in sight, and yet no fishing boats moving in or out either.

These beautiful pelicans were hanging around the area where the folks were hanging out the mullet to dry. They are magnificent birds and are larger than most people realise. The unfortunate bird on the other side of the gate had a badly damaged left wing and would not be able to fly, so he probably hung around on the dock or in the water waiting for a freebie.

Why they would have called this lighthouse "Island Point", I have no idea. It was nowhere near an island and it wasn't on a point either. Still, lighthouses are always interesting. Maybe I like lighthouses so much because in my previous life I drowned because there was no lighthouse and now I see them as beacons of hope that I never had back then...hmmmm...

From Laaiplek, we had a short leg-stretch stop at Elandsbaai, a famous surf spot, which I had always wanted to see. There was a nice little goofy-footer break running of about two feet, but the guys were surfing in amongst the kelp. Not sure I would fancy that as I have swum in kelp before and it has a habit of tangling you in it. The seagull just happened to fly into the shot as I snapped it, but it looks like it's stalking the guy on the surfboard.

Here's another shot of a surfer, this time without the predatory seagull.

Our next stop was Lambert's Bay, famous for its I&J fish factory and harbour. Also, for its Bird Island, a nesting colony for Cape Gannets. Here, everyone is reading the information boards that are scattered along the route between the pier entrance and the hide.

I was first at this hide not long after it opened, about 12 years ago, on another trip I was doing down the west coast. It's good to see that the government hasn't closed this down, even though visitors look like they are few and far between thanks to the twenty bucks entrance fee at the start of the pier. I suppose they have to fund the colony somehow. On the far side of the hide are large glass windows, and an open section upstairs, that we viewed the birds from. There are great vantage points to snap a few photos of the birds.

A view of Lambert's Bay harbour and the fish factory in the background.

The Gannets circle around the spot they are coming in to land at, spy their spot and/or their partner (it's unusual for both of them to be off the nest at the same time), come round again...

...then just drop down from about five feet, more or less onto their nest, sometimes onto their neighbour's site. If that happens, there's all sorts of squabbling that goes on, but never malicious.

Touchdown...

When the bird lands, there are a number of ways they reacquaint themselves with their partners. One of them is "necking", which either entails both birds rubbing necks together, or the newly-landed bird sticking his head straight up in the air, almost like saying "Hahahahahahaha....made it!"

We saw lots of these little fellows...Toktokkies (not sure how that would translate). For communication with their own kind, they tap the pointy little bit on their butts on the ground in a rhythmic motion. Perhaps they have different patterns to express different emotions, I don't know...

Did I mention we were there for the flower show too? Here's a few we saw along this part of the route...

The chariots that would endure a battering on the trip. The black Mazda-rati is mine, and the cherry Ford belongs to Mr C, in picture. Basically, they are the same vehicle, both built by Ford, just a couple of years apart in age and cosmetics.

The beach view from our campsite, at Brand Se Baai (Brand's Bay). We were camped on a deep bed of mussel shells, and the entire crunchy beach was probably ten feet deep in them. The shells were all bleached, so they had been dredged up some time ago. It was quite pitiful to see all this as the destruction was caused by diamond concessionaries who dredged the sea bed in front of the campsite and sucked everything in its path into a huge vaccuum pipe, all in search of a few small shiny stones. The smell from the dead seal pup around the corner didn't add too much to the atmosphere either, but at least the wind wasn't blowing directly in our direction.

Form a laager, mense...haul those lorries in tight. Our campsites were always put together with a lot of thought for location, weather (wind) and whether or not our heads would be uphill or down.

View of the campsite from next to the ocean.

Similar shot, just zoomed out a little to show the gang chilling with a cold one.

As usual, a couple of arty-farty shots, this time of the blue sky from behind a silhouetted rock.

End of Part2 - number 3 coming soon...

Who's yer Grandaddy?

2011-09-01T04:02:00.003-01:00

Meet baby Layla Jane, born at 04h25 to Tamlyn and Scott Parrett. 4.3kg at birth (9lb 7oz).

I had been receiving updates through the night, but got worried when they stopped a little after 2am.

As it turns out, there were some complications, details unclear yet, but they were sorted out and both mother and daughter are doing well now. No doubt, everyone is very tired and who can blame them.

I'll post more later when I've spoken to mother and father later...

For now though, I think I can stop worrying...

Of Blooms, Boulders, Diesel Tanks and Dust - Part 1

2011-08-30T12:38:00.013-01:00

Ok, so as some of you know, we were away recently on two weeks R&R. Friends, call them Mr and Mrs C, put together another epic trip along the lines of the Kgalagadi Park trip last year, only this time it was to be up the Cape West Coast and into the Richtersveld National Park.

Also, this time, the scenery was to be totally different as, except for the Richtersveld and its rocky landscape, we would be going to view the annual flower blossoming of the West Coast which is a globally-known phenomenon.

Yeah, I know...me going to look at flowers. You lot must think I'm off my fuckin' head, but it's something that I'd been told has to be seen to be believed so I was looking forward to it. Really.

As has come to be expected of our long holidays, I was asked whether I would be compiling a travelogue, but this time I decided I wouldn't for a couple of reasons. Firstly, they are time-consuming to draft on the trip and infringe on socialising time. Secondly, I wanted to chill out. Thirdly, I figured I'd use the old adage "a picture paints a thousand words" and use images and descriptions to describe each stage of the journey.

So...grab a drink of choice, sit back, and expect to see some great photos and maybe get your itch going to head out on such a trip with your travelling partners...

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Day 1 - Tietiesbaai (Titty's Bay)

We left home around 10h30am on Sunday 14th August, with the Mazda-rati packed to the gills. We were only a half hour late from our agreed meeting time, but that seems typical of us to be late. Meeting up with the C's, we headed out for the highways and byways that would get us up the coast and to our first campsite, which was just over 2hrs away. Not a long drive for the first day, but we would use the additional hours in the camp to hone our tent-pitching skills again and to repack some stuff that would not be needed until a later stage.

On our way, we stopped off at Postberg, where the flowers were in full bloom and where we bought a laminated sheet with pictures of all the different species we might expect to see in the area. I figured it would keep SWMSBO occupied and not so bored as I was doing all the driving. We marked off each specie we saw with a felt-tipped marker so that we could keep track.

The spread was quite magnificent and I don't believe either of us had seen so many wild flowers in one spot before. There were blooms of all the colours of the rainbow with patches dominated by a specific colour in many instances.

The flowers spread out from the ocean's edge, with the wind creating waves of petals.

Looking like a blanket of snow, these white flowers spread right up the side of the hill in front of us.

Yellow blooms dominated this particular patch of ground.

The Mazda-rati, looking quite shiny. She would look totally different upon our return home, as you'll see later.

Mrs C, who would be the official videographer, doing her thing. She narrates all the clips so that Mr C can put together a travel video.

More flowery snow...

And another view of it...

A close-up of some of the blooms...

The back of the packed Mazda-rati, showing the new sliding drawer system I installed a few days earlier. That is a story in itself, but basically I bought the pre-made shelving system and bins, lined the system up in the bakkie (including space for the deep-cycle battery box on the right of the photo), hauled it in and out a dozen times while I drilled holes and fitted permanent bolts through the bodywork, then slotted the system into place, ready for the journey. Both the upper and lower shelves slide out, making it very easy to get to the back of them.

What you cannot see, however, is the other stuff packed behind the shelf system. Two twenty litre diesel jerry cans, a bin load of spares and parts, a number ten gas bottle, some fishing gear, two dozen Windhoek Lager cans and a case of Savannah bottles (it's about time they came out in cans too).

To the left of the shelves is a "boot bag" containing an assortment of camping stuff, including braai grids, rubber mallet, axe, spare tent pegs, panga, and the bottle jack (which would also come in handy later, but not for a puncture).

On the top shelf were two large water containers, an easy-to-fold-out gazebo, a large fishing tackle bag, a bin of pots, pans and kitchen utensils and, most importantly, the "dop" bin, where we kept the larger bottles (3x Cap'n's Organ, 1x Laphroaig 10yr old Qtr Cask, a couple of bottles of wine, and the coffee pot.

Of the six bins on the lower shelf, one contained tools, one had lighting and electrical stuff, another had cleaning liquids and cloths, while the remaining three had an assortment of foodstuffs.

The inside of the cab did not get away unscathed either. The back seat was taken out and, on a board I had made last year, the Snowmaster fridge was hooked up to the deep-cycle battery. For the first time, a small camping wardrobe was also included for our clothing. It's an amazing thing that, though it has three shelves, folds away into a briefcase size shape that can be packed away at home when not in use. Still, we needed more space and ended up filling all the nooks and crannies with camera equipment and binoculars, shoes, toiletries and medicine bags, and "padkos". That car was loaded.

Lastly, our camping table, mattresses and sleeping bags were packed (crammed) on top of the top shelf stuff, leaving very little space for fishing rods. I eventually strapped the rod tube to the roof for fear of breaking it inside the cab.

A side-on view of the extended drawer system. It made our lives so much easier than last year, where we had to lift out plastic bins full of stuff, then load them all back in at night to prevent marauding animals from getting into them. This time it was a case of lift a latch, slide out shelf, open box, take out thing, close lid and slide shelf back into place...much easier, and less strenuous on my back.

The campsite, sheltered from the wind, with place for a fire on the side of the rocky ledge to the right.

Tietiesbaai is named in honour, not for a particular part of the female anatomy, but for a rock formation on top of a hill. It just so happens that this rock formation does, in fact, look like a favourite part of the female anatomy.

The bay, to the side of our campsite...

A couple of art-farty photos...

The surf was huge on the day we arrived and it pounded the rocks in front of us all night long.

These gulls were hanging about expecting a feed, but left rather disappoiunted when the sun set.

This one is of the early dawn, the following morning. We had spent a rather cool evening in front of the "flammetjie", trying to keep warm, all bundled up in an assortment of warm clothing which would, by the end of the trip, probably never have the smell of campfires washed out of them ever again. Certainly, the memories would never be washed out. Yes, it was cold, but we had plenty of liquid warmth to keep us in good spirits and chatting away for a few hours. When we retired for the night, we spent a very pleasant night in our new "360 degrees" sleeping bags, which were rated to -5degC. In fact, they were so snug, only on one occasion did I sleep with anything more than my birthday suit on and even then that was undies and t-shirt, probably cos I had had a couple too many Capn's.

Right, that's the end of part one. Look out for more, coming soon...

Another "musician" fucks up the national anthem...

2011-08-30T07:46:00.003-01:00

Just like the idiot during the France/SA rugby match a while back, another musician does it on live TV. This time, however, one I respected for his voice and talent as a member of Just Jinger, Art Matthews.

Art Matthews fucks up the anthem

I know he's been in the USA for a while, but I never expected this from him...knob.

A last post before I go on holiday...

2011-08-12T12:42:00.005-01:00

Yes, I go on holiday today for two weeks. We're going up the Cape West Coast, camping with friends, and will end up in the Richtersveld for the annual flower blooming. Apparently the flowers have already started showing themselves, so we should be in line for a good show.

Anyway, the reason for this posting is to show you a photo of a shell I picked up on a local beach last weekend. I'd never seen anything like it before but immediately thought it was in the Nautilus family...and I wasn't far wrong.

It is in perfect condition, with both sides equally shaped. At its longest point, it is only seven centimetres long, but I have seen articles that mention it can achieve lengths of up to twenty centimetres.

Meet the Paper Nautilus, which according to a website I found, is neither made of paper, nor is it a true nautilus. It is not even related to the nautilus, though both are cephalopods. It is, in fact, an Argonaut (argonauta argo) and supposedly "lives in pelagic habitats of the subtropics and tropics. Pelagic habitats are those of the free ocean water away from the bottom, especially at the water surface." What it was doing in Cape waters, I have no idea, especially seeing as the water was 12degC on the day I found it, which is definately not sub-tropical.

Here is the rest of the article...

The argonaut's shell is special among all molluscs. It is only built by the female, and only as case for the protection of the argonaut's eggs, that are placed inside in long threads. The female argonaut lives in the shell's entry and guards the eggs, until the young hatch. At the ends of the first tentacle pair the argonaut (argonauts like other octopus relatives have eight tentacles) has got wide sail-like flaps. Usually the female argonaut holds these flaps spread over the shell, but they also serve it to catch prey that swims into them.

The male argonaut is much smaller than the female. While the latter reaches a size of up to ten centimetres, the shell being up to 45 centimetres large, the male only reaches less than 2 centimetres size. The male argonaut is special because of its altered third tentacle, that is kept in a pouch until it is needed. Like among other cephalopods this tentacle is called the hectocotylus. The male argonaut, other than its larger relatives, often leaves its hectocotylus behind, the latter finding the target on its own. It seems obvious that the male argonaut dies after copulation, as no argonauts with their hectocotyli grown back have been found so far.

Generally living argonauts are difficult to find, possibly because of their pelagic way of life. Much more often their shells, sometimes, masses of them, are deposed on the shore by the sea. That way they also find their way into collectors' packs.

The scientific name of the paper nautilus, especially the largest species, Argonauta argo, is of mythical Greek origin. The argonauts were a group of Greek heroes that, led by Iason, travelled to Kolchis to gain the golden fleece. The were called that way, because their ship was the Argo. In Greek argonaut means "who travels on the Argo". The argonaut's discoverers probably mistook its sail-like flaps as a locomotive organ and thus drew the similarity to the mythical Argo.

Here is a photo from a Wikipedia article that shows the nautilus in its shell...amazing...

Anyway...see you all in a couple of weeks...take care...

I tell ye, I nearly wet ma'sel'...

2011-08-02T11:39:00.002-01:00

...absolutely fuckin' brilliant...

Fuck knows what Homer Simpson has got to do with it though. I believe it's sung by a guy called Rockin Jock...

For want of something easy to post...

2011-08-02T10:59:00.006-01:00

...some random photos from my camera phone...

I plugged my phone into my laptop to charge via the USB port and came across some old images I took some time ago. Perhaps you'll like them...

Sunset on Noordhoek Beach - 5mins roadtrip from the house.

Another view...looking north towards Hout Bay.

The view from our city office. It's the only thing we'll miss about the place when we move buildings towards the end of the year.

This bastard was trying to steal our baits and fish as we reeled them in.

This bastard obviously doesn't know how to treat a fish when he's caught it. Hanging it by the throat is NOT the way to do it. Incidentally, it's Bobby Skinstad. I took the pic straight off the telly.

I found this spoor when we were out in Clanwilliam in April, not far from the cottage we were staying in. The phone pouch measures 12x7cm, so it's probably a lynx spoor (rooikat in Afrikaans).

I wonder if the unfortunate surfer ever claimed his board back? I wonder if the surfer even made it back to the beach? Just about pissed myself laughing at the notice though...

The first course of my dinner one night, in Abu Dhabi. You'll find more about the trip in one of my older posts. The chilli sauce with these kebabs had me sweating and my nose running to the extent that the waitress asked if I needed more serviettes to blow my nose into...cheeky bitch.

This ornately handcarved elephant was located at the entrance to the restaurant in the Abu Dhabi hotel I stayed in. If I could have, I would have brought it home in my sutcase.

Creature Comforts...

2011-08-01T05:39:00.003-01:00

This is a story from a 4x4 website sent to me by a friend...

I had an email from a friend in Zimbabwe yesterday and she sent me this picture and story that I thought was delightful.

They had been away at a game park and on the first evening while sitting in front of the fire in the bar, in walked a fully grown wart hog. He walked over to the bar and without a word the bar man handed him a pillow.

He took the pillow, put it next to the fire and promptly lay down with his head on the pillow and went to sleep where, apparently he spends the cold nights there. Then in the morning he’s off into the bush again! My friend,Cynie, says that if the barman isn’t there he’ll grab a pillow off one of the couches!

Here he is:

Cookin' for ten...nae bother!

2011-07-11T11:31:00.009-01:00

This coming 14th July is my other half's 50th birthday. I kid you not! 50 fuckin' years young. And looking good for it, too, I might add.

As a sort of early celebration, I figured I'd invite a few of her/our good friends around and I'd treat them to my style of dinner party. Usually, the kitchen is SWMSBO's (She Who Maybe Shall Be Obeyed) habitat, but I figured I'd annex it for the occasion.

The planning started a couple of weeks ago, sending out invites to the friends, investigating the choices for the menu, even looking at weather predictions to see if the menu would be suitable for a Cape winter's night.

Eventually I settled on a three course meal, as follows:

* Warm pasta, with pumpkin, butternut and broccolli florettes;
* Lamb shanks on a bed of sweet potato mash, with cauliflower, green beans and gravy;
* Baked apples, stuffed with apple pulp, sultanas, almond pieces and sour cream.

No, I didn't dream those dishes up myself. I conveniently downloaded them from the Masterchef competition website...very handy.

The only problem with the menus were that they were all designed for four servings, which meant I had to calculate the ratios of rations I would need for 10 people. For some ingredients, it worked perfectly, for others we still have excess in the fridge, to be used in normal daily meals.

On the Friday afternoon, under the pretext of the usual weekend "ping", I met a mate at the Red Herring at 16h30, had a couple of quick beers/Dutch courage, then headed off to Prick 'n' Pray for the shopping, figuring I'd have plenty of time before SWMSBO got home from run/Walk For Life (she runs the Fish Hoek branch, a new venture for her spare time).

Into PnP at about 17h30, in and out of the aisles like the trolley had a rocket on it, and out the checkout by 18h40. I was pushing it now, cos SWMSBO is usually home by 19h00. Twelve hundred bucks later....kaching!

That morning, I had switched on the camping fridge in the guest cottage, so it was nice and cool for me to dump the lamb shanks and other perishables into. And I managed to get it all done and closed up before SWMSBO arrived! Perfect timing!

We had a chilled out Saturday morning, with me asking SWMSBO what she had planned for the day, even though I knew what had been organised. My drinks mate's wife had arranged to have SWMSBO around at 1pm to help her prepare for a party her grown-up kids were having that same Saturday night and another mate was to ask her round for something else (reason escapes me just now), but again, the timing was perfect, with SWMSBO arriving at just after 6pm, to be greeted by all these friends who had come to celebrate with us. What a great bunch of people they are. True friends!

Getting back to the dinner preparation...

At 13h30, SWMSBO heads out to PnP for a couple of things and I am starting to sweat, wondering if I'll have enough time when she eventually gets off to help Mrs C with her preparations. As it happens, even that timing was perfect.

Just after 14h00, I greet SWMSBO at the door and pack her off in the 206CC. From then on, the afternoon was a blur.

Into the guest cottage, all the groceries into the house, and preparations got under way. I taped all three recipes to the kitchen cupboards, in front of where I'd be working, so that I could refer to them easily.

First thing on was the lamb shanks. They would take the longest to prepare and they had to be "falling-off-the-bone" done. Brown the shanks, prepare the stock, lightly fry the onions, chuck the shanks back in, and let simmer for an hour and a half.

Just after that, Mr C arrived and he took a couple of photos of me, resplendent in my "Naughty Chef" apron. It's just as well he did come around to lend support as I made a snap decision to also bake one of Nigella Lawson's chocolate cakes, but I didn't have all the ingredients and off Mr C went, back to PnP for chocolate and sour cream. While he was out, I sorted and sifted all the dry ingredients, tried to grind the chocolate I had in a processor, but found out I was using the wrong blade, and ended up waiting for Mr C to get back and then melted the butter and chocolate in the microwave...much easier and less swearing and frustration on my part.

Trying to make some space on the work surface

The cake mix had to be split into two tins, but in their seperate units, they looked like big biscuits rather than what would turn out to be perfectly formed chocolate sponge cakes. I was astonished at how they turned out, perfectly baked, with only minor sticking to the grease paper-ed sides.

Even the icing turned out perfectly. By the time I was done, both Mr C and myself stared at the cake in wonder. All that was left to do to it was pop the Lindt dark chocolate ball on the top and stick it in the fridge to hide it for a couple of hours.

Finishing off the preparation of the apples

After that, I hollowed out all the apples, blasted their pulp in the food processor with diced dried apricots, ground (bashed with a mallet) almond pieces, sultanas and sour cream, then filled the apple rounds again, added a little sugar and put the tray of completed apples into the fridge to be baked while we were enjoying the shanks.

At this point, everything was going swimmingly. Mr C and I sat down for a few minutes to have a cold beer, and then I carried on sorting out the other ingredients for later: peeling 2kg of sweet potatoes, breaking down cauliflower and brocolli heads, cutting the ends of green beans...that sort of stuff.

All of a sudden, time disappeared. When I looked at the kitchen clock again, it was 17h30 and guests would be arriving shortly. Next thing, it's 6pm and the doorbell goes off. WTF? Who said time stood still in moments of blid panic? Not a fuck! It positively gets sucked down the big black hole of life, leaving you in a cold sweat.

Check out the recipes taped to the cupboard doors

Anyway, Mr and Mrs H arrived a little before 7pm just as I was about to start on the starters, the warm pasta dish. All the ingredients, with the exception of the pasta itself, had been orgnised beforehand. This was where the wheels looked like they were going to fall off.

Weighing the dry ingredients for the cake

I promptly plopped two, 900g packets of pasta spirals into one pot, creating no space for the water to continue to boil and, ultimately, creating a gelatinous mass/mess. I realised what I had done, and without thinking twice, promptly turned the entire pasta ball into the bin and announced to everyone that I had fucked up the pasta and we would therefore be starting with the main course. This was where Mr C stepped in again, and calmed me down by asking if we had any plain pasta. All I could find was a packet of plain spaghetti and half a packet of pasta ribbons. They would do, he says, and we got another pot of water on to boil.

Mr C tosses the pasta into the boiling water and I start to relax a little more, beginning with the preparation of the rest of the ingredients: par-boil the pumpkin and butternut, brown off the onions, and keep it all warm, waiting for the pasta to be drained and arranged onto the plates. When I had forked sufficient pasta into each of the ten plates, even considering the vegan guest we had and took her veggies out of the mix before I added the Ideal Milk to the veggies to create a sauce, I spooned the rest of the ingredients over the pasta (in my best Masterchef style) and enlisted Messrs C and H to assist in delivering the plates to the table. All that remained now was the taste test. I did not even taste the mixture before I served it!!

I had to make a quick speech before we started eating and thanked everyone for coming around and sharing this auspicious occasion with us...blah blah blah...then we began eating.

It could have been horrible, but the feedback was amazing. Everyone exclaimed that the dish tasted really good and, I have to admit, it didn't taste all that bad. Round 1 over, looking better. Whew!

I know those portions were a little big for a starter, so I took my time in getting the main course ready, only putting the sweet potatoes on to boil when everyone had done with their starter. The veggies went into the Chinese bamboo steamer, on top of another pot of boiling water and turned out fantastically.

After arranging the nine (minus one as the vegan wasn't eating meat) dinner plates on the kitchen table, I hauled the lamb shanks out of the warm oven, spooned a pile of mash into the middle of each plate and then gracefully plonked a shank on top of each, flanking them with the still steaming veggies. I strained and put some of the meat juices back on to the boil in a small pot, added some corn flour to thicken it a little, then served that as a yummy gravy.

Again, Messrs C and H assisted in getting the plates to the table and cries of "ooohhh" and "aaahhh" were heard from the dining area. Sounds good, I thought. I was relaxed now cos I thought there was no way I could fuck this simple dish up as I had done it before.

And the shanks were amazing. Fall-off-the-bone soft, gravy not too salty or rich, the choice of veggies made a colourful addition to the dish, and again the feedback was gratifying, with everyone expressing tasty delight. Epic success!

Just before everyone had finished the main course, I popped the apples into the hot oven to bake for their required 35min time, after confirming with Mr C that it should be enough time to give everyone's meal time to settle and to have another glass or two of wine. I added a yoghurt-coated rice cake to each dessert plate before I served the apples, and set a litre of custard onto the table, to be added to the bowls as individually desired. Only one guest wanted the custard warmed up, so the group decided to rather leave it cold.

Again, the feedback was amazing. Everyone expressed how tasty the apples were, even though my initial impression was that I could have left them to bake a little longer seeing as some of the apple was still unbaked. Still, another success.

While the guests were delving into their apples, I hauled the chocolate cake out of the fridge and announced it onto the table. SMWSBO's eyes lit up in astonishment. In all the years we have been together (nearly 10) I have never baked a cake and she was amazed that I had baked this one from scratch, even icing it, and how perfectly it had turned out.

For the rest of the evening, the plates were tidied away, a bunch of wine was drunk and the chatter around the table included all sorts of topics, even about my experiences in the kitchen. Copies of the recipes were called for by some of the guests, so I'll scan and email them out to everyone when I get a chance.

By the time everyone left, around 11pm, I was exhausted. I had been on my feet for close to 10hrs and they were killing me. SWMSBO and I packed a few things away, I reloaded the dishwasher, and then we sat down for a nightcap of that fine old Laphroaig 10yr Qtr Cask...yummy.

Naturally, I have to thank Mr C, without whose support and assistance, I would not have been able to complete the cake, or dish up the starter. I also have to thank all our friends who were at the dinner and, on bahelf of SWMSBO, thank you for her gifts. She appreciates every one of them, as well as you as her/our friends.

A letter some of us may want to write...

2011-07-05T09:02:00.002-01:00

...or may have written already, who knows...

Dear Mother-in-Law,

Please don't ever tell me how to bring up my children because I am married to one of yours, and believe me, there is room for improvement!

From
Your Daughter-in-Law

The Brutal Truth about Black People....?

2011-07-01T11:07:00.002-01:00

I received this article in an email today. Whether it is true or not, I have no idea, but it is certainly interesting reading. And some of it, I actually believe too...

My guess is that had the following been written by a white journalist, he would have been sacked from the newspaper. As it is, this is a black reader's letter that appeared in 'The Namibian' on 08 April 2011.

"ALTHOUGH hard to swallow, us black people despise everything that looks like us. To prove my point, not so long ago fellow blacks who had run away from atrocities in their own African countries were beaten, burned and some even killed by fellow blacks in South Africa.

In Namibia, black supporters of the ruling party Swapo and the opposition parties clashed in 2009 and we still hear of such quarrels or violence just in the name of politics. Through studying history, I have come to learn that we actually disliked one another before colonialism, hence fierce tribal fights during those years. Colonialism united us all in the fight against a common enemy and after colonialism, we saw the rebirth of things we thought were buried a long time ago, like tribalism, regionalism, favouritism, etc.

Although we do not like others from other tribes, we all love things that we do not produce. We love fine branded clothes from Europe, we love American and German-made cars, we love expensive wines and whiskeys, yet no African person brews any of them.

All we own, unfortunately, are thousands of shebeens where we drink ourselves to death, stab each other with knives/bottles, infect each other with the HIV virus, make lots of unwanted babies and then blame others for our miseries. We love all sorts of expensive foreign made items and show them off yet we look down at our indigenous products that we fail to commercialise.

As blacks, we know very little about investments, whether in stocks, or in properties. All we know is how to invest our money in things that depreciate or evaporate the fastest like clothes, cars, alcohol and when we are at it, we want the whole world to see us. I know some brothers driving BMWs, yet they sleep on the floors and don’t have beds because nobody will see them anyway.

This is what we love doing and this is the black life, a life of showing off for those who have. A black millionaire tenderpreneur living in Ludwigsdorf or Klein Kuppe in Windhoek will drive to the notorious Eveline Street in Katutura where he will show off his expensive car and look down on others.

We sell our natural resources to Europe for processing, and then buy them back in finished products. What makes us so inferior in our thinking that we only pride ourselves when we have something made by others? What compels us to show off things that we don’t manufacture? Is it the poverty that we allow ourselves to be in? Is it our navigated consciousness, our culture, or just a low self esteem possessing us? For how long are we going to be consumers or users of things we do not produce? Do we like the easy way out, such that we only use and consume things made by others?

Do designer clothes, expensive wines or changing our names to sound more European make us more confident in ourselves?

Our leaders scream at us how bad the Europeans are yet they steal our public money and hide it in European banks. We know how Europeans ransacked Africa but we are scandalously quiet when our own leaders loot our countries and run with briefcases under their arms full of our riches to Europe. The Europeans took our riches to Europe but our African leaders are doing this too.

Mubarak of Egypt, Gadaffi of Libya, Mobutu Sese Seko of the then Zaire, all had their assets allegedly frozen in Europe. Why do our African leaders who claim to love us run to invest ‘their’ money in Europe? Again when they get sick they are quick to be flown to Europe for treatment, yet our relatives die in hospital queues. Don’t our leaders trust the health systems they have created for us all?

Why are we so subservient, so obedient to corruption when committed by our very own people? Nobody can disagree with me that in this country that we are like pets trained to obey the instructions of their masters.

I am sure we look down when we think of our broken lives but what do we see then? I wonder if we realise how we sell our dreams to our leaders for corruption, misery, poverty, unemployment, underdevelopment and all other social evils affecting us.

How long are we going to let our manipulated minds mislead us, from womb to tomb?"

Here's a Rugby thought for you...

2011-06-27T05:08:00.002-01:00

In 1995, Francois Pienaar lifted the Rugby World Cup (RWC) trophy and handed it to Nelson Mandela, the first president of the "new" South Africa.

In 2007, John Smit lifted the RWC trophy and handed it to Thabo Mbeki, Mandela's successor and second president of SA.

Later this year, in New Zealand, the RWC happens again. Will John Smit hand the trophy to Mbeki's successor and SA's third president, Jacob "Showerhead" Zuma?

What are the odds on that?

Added to the above...no team has won the cup three times. Is this SA's chance for that too? All these three's...only thing missing is a third team captain, so maybe Smit may not get the captaincy after all...

How much regret does FW de Klerk have now?

2011-06-24T12:44:00.003-01:00

As the world knows, he was one of the politicians who opened the way for the dismantling of the apartheid system in SA. I don't think anyone can debate whether it was good or bad, it was just right for the country, so we'll park those thoughts for a while.

The underlying article was emailed to me in PDF format (nope, I didn't keep a copy) but it was very interesting reading. If any of our current (black) politicians read the article, they will not doubt dismiss it as "apartheid lies". The truth of the matter is though, that what is in the article is very true and very applicable to SA today. Like it or not...

I don't even know if FW did, in fact, write the article (or present it). Maybe it's just anti-white propaganda (if it is, it's unlikely to have been written by Jules Melanoma or his cronies as it is written very well).

Read it and make your own judgements about it...

SPEECH BY F W DE KLERK TO THE ADELE SEARLL LADIES 100 CLUB:
MOUNT NELSON HOTEL, CAPE TOWN, 1 JUNE 2011

SOUTH AFRICA 2011: THE BALANCE BETWEEN FAILURE AND SUCCESS

It is a great pleasure for me to address this gathering of Cape Town’s most influential women leaders. The venue is also splendid. I always enjoy returning to the Mount Nelson - which is one of our most venerable and elegant hotels.

Most of us will also agree that no matter how far - or how often - we travel it is very difficult to find a city that is as beautiful as Cape Town. I travel a great deal and firmly believe that this is the best place in the world in which to live. There is so much of which we South Africans can be justifiably proud:
● The resilience of our young democracy has once again been illustrated by last month’s successful municipal elections. The elections were free and fair and were preceded by vigorous political debate. Sadly, the great majority of South Africans still voted according to their race. However, there are heartening signs that significant numbers have decided to break racial ranks by voting according to their values and their perceptions of the performance of the contending parties.
● The sound macro-economic policies that Trevor Manuel has implemented have brought us sustained economic growth that was only briefly interrupted by the recent global economic downturn.
● Most countries would envy the fact that our public debt is less than 36% of GDP - and external debt is only 16% of GDP.
● We have the 24th largest economy in the world. We produce more than 30% of the GDP of sub-Saharan Africa with only 6.5% of its population.
● Our natural resources are legendary - including gold and diamonds, platinum group metals and abundant and inexpensive coal.
● Nevertheless, tourism now contributes 8.3% of GDP - considerably more than mining. We have superb game parks, mountains and beach resorts. Cape Town is one of the world’s premier destinations with great facilities including three of the world’s top 100 restaurants.
● Automobile production now contributes almost as much to GDP as mining. In 2008 we produced 600 000 vehicles of which 170 000 were exported.
● Government has made great progress in improving the lives of millions of South Africans. It has built 4 million houses and had brought electricity and sanitation to more than 72% of our homes.
● According to the World Economic Forum’s Global Competitiveness Report our auditing and reporting standards and regulation of securities exchanges are the best in the world. We are also in the top seven with regard to the soundness of our banks, financial services and the efficacy of corporate boards. The Report also gives us high marks for the quality of our management schools, our anti-monopoly policy and local supplier quality.
● South Africa has resumed its position as a respected and influential member of the international community - and has become a member of the exclusive BRICSA group.
● The magnificent success of the 2010 FIFA World Cup has shown the world what glories we South Africans can achieve when we all work together.

However, there are many things of which we are not so proud.

We see them in the daily barrage of press reports about corruption, crime, incompetence and divisive racial politics.

Unfortunately, we are becoming so conditioned by such reports that our responses have been deadened. Developments, that in other countries would lead to the fall of governments, are routinely brushed aside by South Africans as being just more of the same old tiresome thing. Among many of us there is a feeling of disempowerment - and almost of detachment.

My message to you today is that we have a Constitution that empowers all of us. We must not allow ourselves to be lulled into a situation where we no longer respond to situations that are constitutionally, morally and politically unacceptable.

● It is unacceptable to sing songs calling for the shooting of anyone. The historical context is irrelevant. It would be equally unacceptable for Afrikaners to sing Boer War songs calling on people to shoot the English - or for Americans to sing World War II songs about killing Japanese people. It is incomprehensible that the government of a non-racial democracy continues to support this song.
● It is unacceptable for Julius Malema to call whites criminals - and to add that they should be treated as criminals and that their land should be seized without compensation. It is even more unacceptable for President Zuma to sit on the same platform, smiling, while Malema, as a key office bearer in the ANC, makes such racist comments. Malema’s behaviour is irreconcilable with the Constitution that the President has sworn an oath to uphold.
● It is unacceptable for the Judicial Services Commission to ignore unambiguous constitutional requirements regarding the manner in which it should be constituted - and then to refuse to fill vacancies on the Cape bench, despite the availability of eminently fit and proper candidates, simply because they happen to be white.
● It is unacceptable for COSATU and the SACP to set as their mid-term vision the utterly unconstitutional goal of “worker hegemony in all sectors of the state and society.”
● it is unacceptable for Gugile Nkwinti, our Minister of Rural Development and Land Reform, to declare in Parliament last year that all “colonial struggles are about two things: repossession of the land and the centrality of the indigenous population.” Just think for a moment about the implications of this statement. He is actually saying that:
○ the colonial struggle is not yet over;
○ whites are colonialists whose land must be repossessed;
○ only South Africans who are ‘indigenous’ should be regarded as being central to our society. People from minority communities must presumably be content with a peripheral or second-class status.

Can one imagine the outcry that would rightly ensue if a member of the United States government were to call for the re-establishment of the centrality of the white majority?

Much of the legislation that is currently before Parliament is equally unacceptable:
● Although the Protection of Information Bill has been improved, it will, as things stood a few days ago, still inhibit journalists from publishing stories on corruption and incompetence, based on leaked government information. They will still not be able to make use of a public interest defence and will still be liable to long terms of imprisonment without the option of a fine. Officials in more than 1 000 state organs will still be able to classify any documents that they think will affect ‘national security’ and the state itself will still be the arbiter in the process.
● The Land Tenure Security Bill is equally problematic. It will create unlimited rights for farm workers to build communities, graze animals and cultivate crops on the farms where they work. At the same time it will impose unlimited obligations on farmers to provide land, services and training to farm workers. Ironically, it will also weaken the tenancy rights of farm workers.
● The Labour Relations Amendment Bill is intended to end the practice of labour brokering and contract employment in our economy. Employers will be forced to convert the 3,7 million contract jobs in the economy to permanent jobs. Estimates are that they would re-employ no more than 60% of those involved - which would result in the loss of 1,5 million jobs at the very time when President Zuma has quite rightly identified job creation as our main national priority.

One could mention many other unacceptable aspects of our society:
● the parlous state of our education and health systems;
● unsustainable levels of unemployment;
● the failure of half of our municipalities;
● the deplorable levels of crime;
● the inefficiency of most government departments; and
● recurrent reports of endemic corruption and incompetence.

Unfortunately, South Africans are in danger of allowing this dismal litany to pummel them into accepting the unacceptable as part of the daily reality of their new society. They must not do so.

The fulcrum on which South Africa’s future will pivot is our Constitution. It is a carefully balanced document that represents an historic compromise between all the significant sectors of our society. It makes provision for a fully democratic society; it is based on the rule of law; it protects the fundamental rights of all our citizens; it entrenches our language and cultural rights; it envisages a society based on equality and human dignity. It is a transformative document that rightly rejects the status quo. If we can maintain this excellent Constitution I am confident that our future will be secure.

I believe that we are approaching a pivotal point in our history where all South Africans of goodwill, regardless of their race, circumstances or political affiliation will have to rally around the constitutional rights, values and vision upon which our new non-racial democracy has been established.

The country is balanced between success and failure. If the forces of history come down on the side of constitutional values we can all look forward to a positive future. However, if the balance tips against the constitution, the consequences for all South Africans could be very dire.

The main force seeking to disturb the constitutional balance is the ANC’s National Democratic Revolution.

According to the ANC’s Strategy and Tactics analysis, the establishment of our non-racial constitutional democracy in 1994 was not the end of the liberation struggle - but only a beach-head on the way to the ultimate goals of the revolution. In the ANC’s own words: “….The notion that South Africans embraced and made up (after the 1994 settlement), and thus erased the root causes of previous conflict, is thoroughly misleading. April 1994 was neither the beginning nor the end of history. The essential contradictions spawned by the system of apartheid colonialism were as much prevalent the day after the inauguration of the new government as they were the day before.”

The ANC admits that it had to make painful compromises in the constitutional negotiations because of the then prevailing balance of forces between it and the former government. Its first priority was accordingly to shift the balance of forces in its favour by seizing what it calls the levers of state power. The levers of state power include “the legislatures, the executives, the public service, the security forces, the judiciary, parastatals, the public broadcaster, and so on.” Developments during the past 17 years have shown that this is not just empty rhetoric. Assisted by its unconstitutional use of cadre deployment, the ANC has taken vigorous steps to take over - or to try to take over - all these institutions. In the process it is obliterating the constitutional borders between the party and the state; it is undermining the independence of key constitutional institutions; and it is opening the way to large-scale corruption and government impunity.

The ultimate goal of the NDR is a ‘non-racial democracy’ - in which all aspects of control, ownership, management and employment in the state, private and non-governmental sectors will broadly mirror the demographic composition of South Africa’s population.

Like the communist ideal of the ‘classless society’, the non-racial democracy has a superficial appeal - but is equally unattainable in practice.

Closer examination reveals that demographic representivity would simply result in racial domination - what the ANC calls “African hegemony” - in every facet of the government, society and the economy. To achieve its goal of eliminating what the ANC regards as “apartheid property relations” the NDR would require massive and forced redistribution of property and wealth from the white minority to the black majority. It would also require the disemployment of large numbers of people from minority communities.

Whites, Coloureds and Asians would be corralled into demographic pens in all aspects of their economic and professional lives according to the percentage of the population they represent. The prospects of South African citizens would once again be determined by the colour of their skins - and not by their skills, their contribution to the economy or by what Martin Luther King called the content of their character.

Nearly all of the unacceptable developments that I have listed - including Malema’s inflammatory rhetoric, the JSC’s behaviour; Gugile Nkwinti’s land reform proposals, cadre deployment, the failure of municipalities and government departments - can be traced back, directly or indirectly, to the NDR’s corrosive and unconstitutional ideology.

The NDR is, in essence, the continuation of the ANC’s pre-1994 revolutionary struggle against segments of our population based primarily on their race. Let me put it plainly: Achievement of the NDR’s goals as expounded in the ANC’s Strategy and Tactics documents would end any prospect for racial harmony in South Africa. It would destroy the basis for national unity that we created in 1994; it would lead to national disintegration; to the loss of hundreds of thousands of people with indispensible skills and to the collapse of Africa’s largest and most sophisticated economy.

None of this is necessary.

No reasonable South African would question the need to promote genuine equality; to achieve fair and sustainable land reform; and to remove any barriers that might remain to black advancement in the economy or in any other sector of our national life. We would, however, disagree fundamentally with the ANC on the manner in which we should achieve these objectives.

South Africans urgently need to speak to one another and to the government on the best ways of achieving these goals.

Such a dialogue is necessary because many ANC members truly believe the myths and historic distortions that underlie the NDR. They really think that the NDR will build ‘a society based on the best in human civilisation in terms of political and human freedoms, socio-economic rights, value systems and identity”. Black intellectuals sincerely propound ideas that:
● blacks cannot be racists;
● the land that whites occupy was ‘stolen’ from the blacks - even it was purchased after 1994; and that
● white wealth was acquired solely - or primarily - through the exploitation of blacks.

We need to talk with one another in the frank and constructive way that we did during the negotiations of the early 1990s.

At the same time it is essential for all people of goodwill to oppose the threats that the NDR poses to our constitutional accord.

The main safeguards against the further erosion of the Constitution lie in:
● the genuine support for the Constitution that still exists among many principled ANC members;
● the Government’s reluctance to alienate international opinion and foreign investors by breaching global governance and economic policy norms;
● our Courts, which are for the most part still courageously free and fair; and,
● finally, in South Africa’s free media, civil society institutions and opposition parties.

The media and civil society have an impressive track record in defence of the Constitution:
● the TAC successfully pressured the Government to change its disastrous approach to AIDS;
● in 2006 civil society persuaded the Mbeki presidency to withdraw the Constitution 14th Amendment Bill that would have seriously undermined the independence of the judiciary;
● in 2008 civil society actions led the government to shelve an expropriation bill that would have made it possible for government to expropriate property without payment of court-approved compensation;
● currently, civil society and the media are combating the Protection of Information Bill and proposals for a Media Appeals Tribunal;
● a single citizen, Hugh Glenister, succeeded in the Constitutional Court in having the government’s abolition of the Scorpions declared illegal;
● I am confident that civil society together with NEDLAC will be able to stop, or greatly ameliorate, the worst excesses in the labour and land reform bills that are currently before Parliament.

But it will not be an easy process. The defence of liberty has always been a hard and difficult struggle.

The media, civil society and opposition parties will need all the support they can get from people of goodwill inside South Africa and in the international community to continue to play their role.

My message to the Adele Searll Ladies Club is this:
● Do not regard today’s lunch as just another item in your busy calendars;
● Do not accept developments in South Africa that would be unacceptable in any other genuine democracy in the world;
● Think about - and actively support - other, much more effective, ways of promoting genuine equality, non-racialism and a better life for all our people;
● Consider the concrete steps that you can take to support the work of NGOs - like our own Centre for Constitutional Rights - that are fighting night and day to protect our Constitution - and your own fundamental rights.

I can assure you that your future happiness, prosperity and security - and the future of everyone in this country - depend on it.

There is a need for another rethink...

2011-06-23T10:05:00.007-01:00

...of the way we face this electricity crisis that SA finds itself in. In fact, we are facing another 20% rise in electricity costs from next month, so the need is even greater now. Currently, we go through about R600 a month in electricity, usually a couple of hundred bucks more if we have visitors for a few days. The next increase means that we will have to fork out a total of R720 for the same amount of prepaid power.

So...one of the ways I might face the power problem is by having our home rewired. Really.

We, in general (and if I'm not mistaken), have our homes wired with a set of circuits (plugs or lights) on the same breaker in serial (ie, in a straight line). This means that all the units are energised at the same time regardless of whether they are in use or not, with only a switch to make sure the individual sockets or light switches are not powered on. A drawback to this is if the serial circuit is broken at some point in the chain, on the neutral wire (which is common to the circuit), then all the outlets (plugs and switches) further on in the chain are also affected.

It is an ineffective way to control your home's usage of power. If you wanted to save power on that sequence, without switching off the circuit breaker on the main panel, then each day you would have to go and power off each and every plug and switch in the sequence to make sure that it is not using electricity unwisely.

We have all heard about the possibilities of saving electricity (and money) by installing solar geysers (which we will be doing as well), wind generators, etc, but I think there's another way by just rewiring the house a little more cleverly.

I'm going to investigate and, if it turns out to be a viable choice, rewire the house so that lights and plug points that are not generally used throughout the day (excluding fridges, tv, etc) are automatically turned off and on by a timer switch (or set of switches) between certain hours of the day. If the units on a particular timer switch are needed at some point through the "off hours", the timer(s) can be over-ridden and the plugs/lights re-energised.

Areas that have essential equipment, such as burglar alarms, or the study where computers and modems are kept, or the tv and the satellite decoder, can all be grouped onto the same circuit breaker. If it means that there is a chance of overloading the current breaker, then a larger breaker could be installed to take care of the additional load required on that breaker.

Even things like deep freezes can be put on a timer. How many of us go into a deep freeze during daylight hours between 10am and 4pm? Or even overnight? Not many, I bet. And the freezer will stay frozen for a good few hours if it is sealed properly and kept closed. And those things chow a lot of power. On top of it all, we have two freezers...one just for my fishing bait that could quite easily go on a timer as it is usually only opened once a week.

There are any number of ways the circuit breakers could be rewired to cater for items that are either to be used during the day, or not, as required. It should be a simple enough exercise to walk through the house and decide for yourself which units are absolutely necessary. It won't take a rocket scientist to make those decisions.

And to make sure you don't "spike" the power consumption when the timers kick out at their prescribed time (if there are a few to stand down at the same time), you could even stagger them to change back a few minutes apart, thereby reducing the chance that a full spike would trip your main panel and leave the house in total darkness.

One could even go as far as colour-coding the plug and light switch covers with a different cover-plate, or a label. It will help you identify which circuits are on during the daylight hours. It could even help sell your house if you could show the prospective buyers that you have installed power-saving methods into your circuitry.

All comments and suggestions welcomed...

I found a new blog...

2011-06-23T09:59:00.002-01:00

...that I am going to read now and then, possibly a couple of times a week.

I was browsing the comments on a posting on WatKykJy (on the toolbar to the right) and noticed her blogger name, so went and had a quick browse of her writings. Very impressive, I thought.

On the toolbar, click on "A Daft Scots Lass" and see what I mean. The lady in question is, like me, Scottish by birth but has not been living in SA for quite as long as I have, yet.

Her writing is brutally, but funnily, crude and well worth a visit...

Go ahead...read it if you dare...

Introducing the Ostrich National Congress Party (ONC)...

2011-06-09T12:52:00.004-01:00

previously known as the African National Congress (ANC).

Why? Because like the myth says, the ostrich buries its head in the sand until danger goes away.

Why? Because that's exactly what this government does.

Not only does this government ignore critical issues that affect the daily living conditions of its voters and the rest of us (no, I do not vote for the ANC, nor will I in a million fuckin' years) but it tries to bullshit its way out of situations when it appears that it is about to be caught with its proverbial pants around its ankles.

Just pick up any newspaper and see what I mean. Just click on any news RSS feed that you might have on your browser toolbar and you'll see what I mean. Just watch any local TV news, or listen to any radio station news program. Same result.

Always complaints, and always are these complaints ignored. Until election time comes around again. This time, after the local municipal elections, the ONC is blaming everyone and everything around it as the causes of the problems, while it never admits to making mistakes itself.

Hmmmmmm...maybe the management of some companies should form their own ONC party as they suffer the same symptoms...

A Great Quotation...

2011-06-08T08:43:00.002-01:00

from the London Times...

"South Africa is the only country in the world where affirmative action is in the favour of the majority who has complete political control. The fact that the political majority requires affirmative action to protect them against a 9% minority group is testament to a complete failure on their part to build their own wealth making structures, such that their only solution is to take it from others."

However, that said, the 9% minority are the most skilled in the country (for various reasons, foremost the fact that we're not a lazy bunch of gravy train assholes like some of our "anderskleuriges" or politicians). Still, that also should not constitutionally give them the right to use AA against the minority...

ANCYL and Vibrantmedia - FUCK OFF!!!!!!

2011-06-08T07:36:00.005-01:00

Now these bastards somehow got hold of my email address. I wish I could find out how, or who sent it to them, so that I could send utter crap to that person/organisation. Fuck off, the lot of you...!!!

This is what I received in the mail...or at least it's screenshots from the webpage...

My response to the company who sent the email was polite to say the least...

Hi....

I have NO DESIRE to receive rubbish, unsolicited, emails like this again. DELETE my email address from your database, please!!!

I do not want to hear from vibrantmedia ever again!!!!!!

No signature or anything at the end, just nice and curt...fuckers...

Aw, Kumoffit...

2011-05-19T08:19:00.003-01:00

We were taught to use phonetics in school to get a grasp on spelling, but I think the owner of this place never got over it.

No wonder we have such a low pass-rate in our schools. "Education institutions" like this one might just have something to do with it...

To my Darling Daughter and her new Husband...Mr and Mrs P...

2011-05-06T06:49:00.005-01:00

I wanted to make a bit of a speech at the wedding dinner but, due to the noise levels in the restaurant, decided not to (and, also, I don't like crying in public). At the time it seemed like a good idea not to, but I don't think these words have lost their effect even if they do come a couple of weeks later. I sincerely hope they don't as they still mean the same to me...

Firstly, from Granny D's brother in Leeds, there was an email that reads (quoted verbatim, our family is not the best at punctuation and grammar):

"Dear Tami, great to hear your news from my sister, E. Didn,t realise the time that has passed since we, last saw you, 1989, I think, what,s the saying (you were knee-high to a grasshopper), but NOT now, bet you,re a lovely young person, phew 25, years, can,t remember that, we are both old foggies @ 75 now. We were 23, when we married, 1958, 53 years this Sept.!! Still going along, and were just saying how excited you will be getting, now. Anyway have a lovely day, hope the future is all you will want, not an easy life these days, but sure you will be blessed. Bye for now, with all our love Aunt C + Unca D. PS tell my sister to behave herself!"

Secondly, and I'm not much of a public speaker, but I was going to quote an old Scottish wedding wish:

A thousand welcomes to you with your marriage kerchief,
May you be healthy all your days.
May you be blessed with long life and peace,
May you grow old with goodness, and with riches.

May the best ye've ever seen
Be the warst ye'll ever see.
May the moose ne'er lea' yer aumrie
Wi' a tear-drap in his e'e.

May ye aye keep hail an' hertie
Till ye're auld eneuch tae dee.
May ye aye be jist as happy
As we wiss ye noo tae be.

Where'er ye bide in the world sae wide,
We wish ye a neuk on the sunny side,
Wi' muckle o' love and little o' care,
A wee bit pursie wi' siller tae spare,
Yer ain wee ingle when the day is spent,
In a wee bit housie wi' hearts content.

The last verse of the poem seems very appropriate at this time, seeing as you guys have just had the news that you'll be moving into your own "wee bit housie" at the end of the month. I hope you have many years of happiness in the house (or other, larger, houses which you'll need when the family grows a bit bigger, plus we're going to need a room when we come over sometime).

Thirdly, "May the Lord keep you in his hand, and never close His fist too tight on you".

I'm certainly not a religious person, but those words seem very appropriate.

To end with, we wish you many very happy years together, with an abundance of everything except problems. May you have love, happiness, laughter and an excess of good luck in your years ahead. All our love to you both. Always. xoxo

Some of the best UAE photos...

2011-03-23T12:16:00.025-01:00

I wasn't going to put in any descriptions of the photos, but I've reconsidered due to the sheer volume of images...enjoy...but beware, there are LOTS of images...go and grab a cup of coffee before you start looking through them...

Pics from Dubai

Emirates Mall - "fishtank" at the entrance to the underground aquarium
Stainless Steel diver - against a waterfall backdrop - difficult to get the water motion
The actual waterfall - yes, it's in the middle of a frikkin mall
Ice rink in the middle of the mall - about the size of a footbal field
Burj al Khalifa (pronounced "Boorj al ghaleefa") - highest building in the world
The Abra's on The Creek - tourist water taxis
View up The Creek
The base of the Boorj al Ghaleefa
Some other building - there are some fantastic constructions in the UAE
The Brindle Bass in the aquarium tank - I lost count of the number of protected species in that tank...bastards
More boats on The Creek
A lane in one of the Souq's (markets)
Back on The Creek
Back on The Creek
Another lane in another Souq
More highrise buildings - some of them were spectacular
Back on The Creek
Gold buddha in the Gold Souq
More gold figurines

Pics from Abu Dhabi

Head office to one of the airlines
Spices for sale in the New Souq
Handcarved elephants from India
One of the lanes inside the New Souq - everything was done out in latticed woodwork - would have got rich off that contract
Entrance to a park in the city centre
View from my hotel room - every prayer time the muzzin would chant the usual "Allah u Akhbar" in about 20,000 different tones
View from the Corniche waterfront looking toward the city centre
The Corniche waterfront walkway
The centre court of the New Souq...awesome
This is some kind of calendar - can't remember the exact info about it, but it was fuckin' expensive otherwise I would have bought it
Another lane in the New Souq - the pace is three storeys high
Another mosque, with night lights
Sunset on the Corniche
Sunset on the Corniche
Fisherman on the Corniche - they catch tiddlers there
The walkway - it is 10km long and tiled the whole way
Gardens and delivery entrance archway at the Emirates Palace Hotel - the only SEVEN star hotel in the world
First images of the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque - taken on a brilliantly clear day, but also when the place was closed to non-Muslims - more later
The main entrance to the mosque
The pool on the hotel roof - and it was heated to 32degC
View of the city from the hotel roof
Inside the Emirates Palace Hotel - breathtaking
An archway just outside the Palace Hotel
The outside, main entrance, of the Palace Hotel - Ferraris and sports cars lined up outside the door
Etihad airways new head office buildings, still under construction
Another frontal view of the Palace Hotel - fountains off
The Japanese Tea Hut - a gift from the emperor of Japan to the late Sheikh Zayed
View of the gulf beyond the Palace Hotel windows
The windows mentioned above
The main dome in the Palace Hotel
The Palace Hotel - everything has a golden hue about it
Designs of future buildings - can't remember who is going to occupy them, but it is multinational companies

The night view tapestry, showing the hotel at night - about 10m high and 25m wide
The daytime view tapestry - same size
The window between the tapestries - the night time one is on the wall behind the staircase
Rows and rows of ancient artifacts, all for sale - some dating back to 300BC - I wanted one piece, but it was something like R16,000...
More inside the hotel
Model dhow, from the building model below, another future project for the city

Another future project - one of them, can't remember which one, is going to be a Guggenheim Museum
View of the Palace hotel through the palisade fencing that surrounds the place
Etihad towers through an archway
A tapestry inside a closed shop - through the window - it was a fantastic piece, also a couple of hundred years old
View of the city through one of the hotel's windows
Looking down to the "basement" of the Palace Hotel
Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque - the pic is out of place from the rest
Inside of the Marina Mall - these guys don't do small malls
The walkway leading up to the Marina Mall
Close-ip of the delivery entrance archway to the Palace Hotel - as Wreckless puts it, it's like an Arc de Triomphe - and there were four of them that I counted
The archway again
The Grand Mosque - the pics will say most of the words

Each of the domes was uniquely patterned
I lost count of the number of columns in the place

The main prayer hall - there were three of these chandeliers - each one is about 10m high and 6m across at its widest

Another view of a chandelier
This chandelier was a "small" one, located at the entrance hall to the main prayer room - everyone had to remove their shoes before even venturing into the entrance hall
Same chandelier as previous - further away
View of the main dome from the large courtyard
The names of all six of the daily prayer times - these would alternate with the actual prayer times, which vary according to the season

Back in the courtyard - the sky was a dull colour due to the fine sand in the air

A smaller prayer room for the women and children
The scrollwork on the walls was just fantastic in detail
No more words - the pictures say their own thing...

Hmmmmm....

2011-03-16T06:17:00.001-01:00

President Zuma goes on an official state visit to a small country in the middle of Africa. At the airport he is met by this country's Minister of Harbours. All of a sudden Zuma realizes that this is absurd, this country has no harbours as it is landlocked! He is very puzzled and decides to find out what the story is.

At the official state banquet later that evening, he leans over to the President and asks, "Mr. President, why do you have a Minister of Harbours when you don't have any harbours?"

The President looks Zuma straight in the eye and says, "Well you know that may be true Mr. Zuma, but I was just as puzzled at why you have a Minister of Law and Order?"

Achmed's Final Trip Report...

2011-03-15T11:53:00.003-01:00

...and about bloody time, you are all probably thinking...

Sorry...I have a habit of not finishing off the trip reports soon after the trip ends. But here it is anyway, so stop fuckin' moaning.

Excitement is building - one more night in a hotel, then one on a plane, and I'll be home. After two weeks, it's going to be more than a pleasure being back, it''' be bloody heaven.

The only downer is that I have to fly out again on Sunday morning as I've been roped into meeting a client first thing on Monday. FFS. At least I'll get to spend Sunday with my folks and, in particular, Dad, whom I haven't seen in a while (when I got there, we worked it out - it had been two years).

Work was like any other work day here, except that I am now the one that is creating the documents, instead of reading them.

I took a lunchtime walk with the client PM, to see if I could sit him down for an informal chat over coffee at Starbucks, but we ended up marching to a supermarket for him to get his lunch. I had to pick up a takeaway at Starbucks as he wanted to get back to the office. These people have a need to be seen by management, very insecure.

Back at the hotel later, I started packing my case in readiness for an 08h30 checkout in the morning. I've bought a few things and it is difficult to close the damn thing. I may have to go and buy a 2nd hand-luggage case.

Dinner is the seafood buffet, and I start with two platefuls of sushi and then one of salads, along with a ZAR90 glass of wine. WTF, it's my last night here.

Come to think of it...why are some of the dishes made with chicken, when it's a seafood buffet? WTF?

I have just seen the largest langoustine in my life, waiting to be cooked, or maybe it was a tiger prawn. Whatever, I've seen smaller legal-size crayfish than this fuckin' thing!! No, I resisted it, settling on a mixed plate of various fish dishes, calamari, prawns and vegetables.

Cheese and biscuits done, almost finished my glass of wine, I decide to go and look for that new piece of luggage for my excess baggage.

I'm allowed 23kg in my case, plus a 7kg hand luggage, plus a laptop bag. I should be able to fit everything into those cases successfully. All the bulky, heavy stuff can go into the big case.

I bought the little case - less than ZAR300 - bargain. Now both cases close comfortably without having to jump up and sit on either to close them.

Just waiting to do my online check-in to book seat 19C, the same as I had coming over - the one with plenty of leg room, then I can hit the sack for the last night.

Packing finished, check-in done, blog updated with two gripping episodes of this trip, and I'm about whacked. Ready for bed...goodnight...

The day of the check-out...

The final episode of this gripping epic?

Didn't want to get out of bed...........kidding....shot out of bed at 06h30, finalised my packing so that I left my travel clothes in my new carry-on case, then headed for a final breakfast.

That done, I grabbed my stuff and headed for check-out where I ended up having a fight with the guy about who was paying for what. Your customer is always right, fuckwit. Or, at least in this case, I was right as I knew the client was picking up the tab for bed and internet charges. Just as well, as at ZAR200 a day in this hotel, it's a fuckin' rip-off. Fuckwit had to phone someone to confirm what I had already explained to him, but in the end all was good.

After checking my bags in with the Concierge, so that I didn't have to drag them into the office with me, I headed there for the last time.

As the final report was to be delivered by the 17th March, I had to send the first draft to the team for QA before I left for the day. As it was, I emailed it at 16h50, just in time to say cheerio to the guys in the office and an online farewell to the guys in Dubai.

After retrieving my bags at the hotel, I grabbed another cab and hit the highway for what I thought would be a short ride to the airport. Ha!!

It took us 45mins in traffic and on the ring road, supposedly the fastest route at that time of day. Past Yas Island where the F1 GP is held and Ferrari World. That's the closest I got to the place, about 500m.

The taxi cost me AED70 including tip, but it's cool cos I can claim the fare back again. Just as well I drew the extra AED100 earlier in the day.

I checked in my case, then took my hand luggage into the public bathroom where I did a Superman change of clothing into something more comfortable to travel in. A fresh t-shirt and jeans that haven't been washed in two weeks, very comfortable.

As is customary on these trips, once I checked through passport control, I hunted down the Swarovski shop and bought SWMBO a nice pair of earrings. I get something Swarovski for her on every trip I go on. She has quite a collection now.

Feeling a bit peckish, I grab a bagel and iced tea. I've still got two hours to take-off and probably another hour after that before anything edible or drinkable will be served on the plane.

I tried to get some wireless connection, but it wouldn't work so I think I'll just go and wait for my flight and read my book for a while.

On the plane...

For some unknown reason, probably a different make of aircraft, I didn't get the seat with the extra leg room. That ended up being 5 rows in front of me. Fuck.

Anyway, I settled in and we took off after a bit. I didn't care much, we were heading homeward.

The plane was about one third full (or two thirds empty, depending on how you look at things) and the row in front of me was empty too. I thought it was nice to have no possibility of someone banging the chair back at my legs in the cramped space I was now stuck in. No bloody luck.

There was a party of Ukranians heading for SA for a holiday and two of them ended up grabbing the row of four seats to themselves, so that they were directly behind friends of theirs who had been allocated seats seperately.

At cruising altitude, the seatbelt light went off and the crew came around with the drinks trolley. The big Ukrainian diagonally in front of me says to the hostess in his aisle "whiskee" and she plonks a glass down in front of him, served straight from the bottle of Dewars White Label. "Whiskee", he says again and she puts a second glass down. "Whiskee" he repeats for a third time and this time she looks perplexed, so she calls over the aircraft to her superior, tells her the story. The senior cabin lady looks over the the guy, motions a drinking action with her hand, says "Got two whiskeys, drink finished, we give more" and then carries on with her customer. The Russkie is so taken aback, that he doesn't say another word, doesn't even ask for more whiskee later on. He has his dinner, finishes his drinks and lies down across two seats and his wife's lap to get some sleep with his earphones on.

I watched "The Kings Speech" on the movie channel and, if you want to watch a good movie, go see this one. It's very good, but the Oscar should have gone to Geoffrey Rush who played the supporting role of the speech therapist. He was brilliant and had me chuckling quietly to myself. Colin Firth was good in his part, but I don't believe he was Oscar-winning good.

The rest of the flight went off uneventfully, managing to catch about 2hrs sleep before we were woken by the crew trying to serve us a snack and coffee before we landed in Shit Towne to drop off a bunch of people.

An hour later, with no new additions to the passenger list, we hit the skies again on the final stretch.

This leg of the trip went by very quickly as I was now fully awake, and ended up playing "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" on the flight games console. Once I even got close to answering all the questions, then fucked it up by pressing the wrong button with my final answer....knob.

We landed in Cape Town about 20mins ahead of schedule. According to the skipper, we had a tailwind behind us, but I think he just got wind that his "tail" was waiting for him in Cape Town airport.

SWMBO met me with the Mazda-rati, with Bonnie the Wonder Dog along for the ride and I drove home, the first time in over two weeks that I had driven a car. How strange it was being behind the steering wheel again, instead of sitting in the back seat of the car...

In conclusion, it was an interesting trip, lots to see and new experiences. Perhaps I'll have to go back again, to present the document to the client, but maybe not as I think the local team could do it successfully.

Ahhhh....it's good to be back in Slaapstad...

Achmed, out...

Achmed's Travels in Arabia...part 9...

2011-03-07T17:31:00.002-01:00

At about half past midnight, I wake with a start, knowing instinctively that there's something physically wrong with me.

Suddenly, I feel nausea grip me and I head for the loo. I sit down, unsure if I'm going to puke or shit. As it happens, I do neither, but my entire body breaks out in an ice cold sweat, running in rivulets down my arms, legs and back, and I find myself sliding on the toilet seat.

I recognise something that has happened to me twice before, and as scary as it is when it happens, I know it's going to pass in a few minutes.

They were about ten minutes but, at the time, felt like and hour.

I don't know what it is that causes the condition, perhaps it's a light case of food poisoning each time, but the last twice that it happened were both on airplanes, first time on our way back from or European holiday about eight years ago. The second time was about four years ago, also on an airplane, also on my way back to SA from Europe. I wonder if it's something that's going to happen every four years, or even happen again at all. I hope neither.

I towel myself dry, wait a couple of minutes for the shivering to subside completely and make my way back to bed, falling asleep straight away, and right through until the alarm goes off.

I still feel slightly nauseous when I get up, but force myself to go through the morning routine and eat something to settle my stomach.

It seems to work and I grab my stuff, and a cab, and head to the office. Sunday is say one of the work week and I have three days left here. then home. Out of hotels. Back to normality. Back to SWMBO and the girls.

I go for my usual lunchtime walk to Starbucks (we really need them in SA - their coffee is great), have my chicken wrap, then stroll leisurely back in the sunshine to the laptop for the last couple of hours of the work day.

Back at the hotel, I sign onto the web, check my Facebook page and decide to do something different for dinner. Burger King!! We need these in SA as well!!

These burgers are good for fast food. the chips are about the same taste as McDonalds but a Big Mac tastes like linoleum in comparison to a Burger King XXL. Two patties, two slices of cheese, tomato, raw onion and a bun that tastes like bread. Winner!!

Sated, I head for a "small" mall and buy a half dozen kewl t-shirts, some with excellent biker skeleton images. Photos will follow.

I also buy a new wallet which I've been needing for a while as m old, tatty one is about 11yrs old and falling to bits.

Retail therapy over, I head back to my room for the night, and the consoling glow of the TV. Two days to go...

Part 10 soon....promise...

Abu Dhabi...part 8...

2011-03-07T17:12:00.002-01:00

It's Saturday, first official day of the west's weekend.

SWMBO isn't in touch a lot, cos she's her busy self at weekends. Out and about, walking "the girls" on the beach, cooking, etc...

I have a case of serious ring sting from last night's curry. Very serious. Handstands in the shower? Fuck that, I'm contemplating squatting on the bidet for a while and gently spraying my petrified sphincter.

As a result, I stay in the hotel for a while, scared to move in public spaces for fear of not being able to find a toilet in time, or worse, letting go on the back seat of a taxi.

I sit and work and browse the web until the stomach cramps, and urge to piss out of my arse, subside.

At 2pm, I decide today might be the last time I get to the Grand Mosque and decide it might be worth another ZAR100 taxi fare. I've checked on the web and the place is definately open to the public today.

I pick up the camera bag and head for the street and another hell-for-leather taxi ride through the streets of Abu Dhabi. Fuckin' lunatics these taxi drivers. All of them.

We go in the Mosque grounds by the back entrance and I see a bunch of other people, so all is good.

In keeping with the spirit of learning, worship and inter-faith tolerance, there is no entry fee to the place. It was decreed by the Sheikh that no-one would pay to get in.

There is also the story that a fortune teller foretold that, when the Sheikh commissioned the mosque, he would die before it was finished. It came true, and he is buried in his own little mausoleum just off the main mosque. No photos are allowed of his tomb.

The Mosque is phenomenal as a structure, built by mortals. Domes, spires, arches, coloured glass windows, multi-coloured tiles, marble walls and floors, chandeliers the size of busses, plush carpets...this place had no expense spared on it. I'm not going to try and describe it further. There will be a whole bunch of photos posted that will do it far more justice tna I ever cold.

After 3hrs, I take a ride back to the hotel and sit in Heroes and have two pints of Guinness and a platter of bar snacks for dinner. My stomach has settled now.

I leave the pub because of the smoky air that makes it hard for me to breathe. As usual, I fall asleep in front of the TV at about 23h30 and put the light off.

Part 9, coming soon to a blog near you...

Project Abu Dhabi.....part 7...

2011-03-07T16:34:00.002-01:00

So, up at 9am, it's weekend so I'm full of adventure.

I read the daily papers for things to do while I'm having an extended breakfast, but there's nothing in them that helps to move me in any particular direction.

I remember the map I got on my first day in the hotel and have a look at what's available and interesting.

First choice, Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque. Mosques are usually done in exquisite architecture, marble, polished granite, towering minarets, huge domes. Right, so that's number one on the list.

As I don't know how long I'll be there, I don't make any further plans.

Grab a taxi, tell him where to go and off he speeds, jabbering away like a Pakistani machine gun. "Make trip interesting for you, sir. Been here how long sir?" Hundreds of questions, one after the other. It's worse than The Weakest Link. "Shut the fuck up" I think and strangely enough, he does exactly that.

The balance of the 30min drive is in total silence.

Coming off the highway, I see the minarets above the high embankment and the camera is made ready. I pay the cabbie and he asks if he should wait. "No thanks" I say. It's just after 11am.

I wak up about 30 steps to be confronted by a "security guard" (an Indian guy, black suit, walkie talkie) who tells me that non-Muslims aren't allowed into the mosque until after 2pm on Fridays. I'm gobsmacked. The bastard cabbie could have had the fuckin' decency to tell me.

It's just a little more after 11am.....fuuuuuuck!!

I sit down on a wall for a while, in the baking sun, and have another look at the un-visitable mosque. It is quite magnificent in its white-marbled splendour. But it's fuckin' hot where I'm sitting so I hail another taxi, thinking I'll go back to the hotel, dejected.

Instead, I have a brain-fart and tell the new cabbie to head for the Emirates Palace Hotel, the only 7 star hotel on the planet.

Fuck me, my mouth is on fire, but more about that later!!

There is a long driveway to the hotel. It looks as big as a palace a I'm walking towards it, manicured gardens, dancing fountains and glittering cobbled roadway. So far, it;s not overly impressive as a building and I'm wondering what the fuss is about.

I push a fifteen feet high door open as easily as a normal house door and a long-legged woman in an oriental looking robe says something I don't quite pick up and I ask her to repeat with a polite "Pardon?"

Then, in an almost German-like staccato, I make out she's telling me that there is some guy holding another door open for me, about ten metres away. I say I didn't see him and I'm sorry, and she says, "Oh well, you are through the door already, you should come in". Nice start, bitch.

Past an archway and I can already see why it's seven start. Fuck me! the interior is coloured gold from top to bottom. Gold and coppery hues light everything in sight. The ceiling, at its lowest point, is about two stories above me and the main atrium is about five stories high and 30m across.

I cannot describe the detail in the place, so the photos will have to, when I upload them eventually.

There is not a sign of a piece of luggage, which must be taken charge of by the valets before it's even taken out of your Ferrari/Mercedes/Bentley/limo. There are three Ferraris just outside the main entrance. The Beckham's must be here for the weekend.

All the passages leading away from the atrium are silent, padded in plush, thick, carpet and again the ceilings are very high above me.

The glasswork on the doors is intricately etched and all the doorways leading to the outside are arched high.

There is a grand staircase leading down to the beach level, but another "security guard" stops everyone from going through. Guests only.

On the walls flanking the staircase are two tapestries, each about 20m long and 5m high, one depicting the hotel by day, the other by night, down to the light cast by the lamp posts.

down one corridor, I come across about 50 glass cabinets, each displaying genuine artifacts from ancient Greece, Mexico, Egypt, Peru, China and a couple of others, even African. Some of the bits, according to their little plaques, date back to about 500BC and others to as early as 600AD, so even they are still +-1,400 years old. There is one Chinese piece that I like, but at AED48,000 I keep the VISA card in my wallet. A ZAR96,000 dust collector? Even at that price, SWMBO would ridicule it, and then relegate it to a dark corner somewhere, probably the back of my clothes cupboard, never to be seen again.

There are some really nice pieces, but not one under ZAR10k.

It is about 2pm when I feel I've had enough opulence, so I head for the door/archway out.

The Marina Mall is a short 1km walk away along a seaside walkway, an extension of the same one I walked on my first night in the city. The entire walkway is about 10km long.

First thing I do is find a cold drink and a snack. I forgot my bottle of water in the hotel so by now am quite thirsty.

the mall is packed with people of all shapes, sizes and nationalities, all looking to do some day-off-shopping.

I wander around the place (these fuckers don't do small malls), in and out of clothes shops, gadget stores and electronics emporiums. Again, I think about an i-Gadget but I can't bring myself to do it. If it was an iPad combined with a phone for a hundred bucks, sure, but ZAR2,600 just for an iPod, I don't think so. And for ZAR4k, I can't justify that for a large iPad either. So I walk on and on.

It's 16h30 when I grab a taxi back to the hotel to chill out for a while before dinner.

I almost nod off on the bed but stop myself, knowing that if I sleep now, I would not sleep properly later.

Just after 7pm, I dress into long pants and head down to the Cho Gao Asian restaurant attached to the hotel. It's happy hour, so I get two pints of Tiger draught beer for the price of one. Bargain.

My starter is a mixed platter, six skewers (3 chicken, 3 beef), 3 spring rolls and 3 pieces of tempura-battered egg plant (brinjal), accompanied by two dips, one peanut, the other savoury. Delicious.

for the main course, I go for a Lamb Manama curry, with rice and sambals. Fuck me if it doesn't just about blow my fuckin' head off! I have never had a curry as hot as this. It is quite ridiculously hot. After a while, a waitress sees me blowing my nose and comes back with more serviettes, "Just in case" she says. Fuckin' just as well, I think to myself.

I am sweating and sniffing like never before.

The night ends, in front of the TV, as usual.

Part 8, sometime soon...

Abu Dhabi...part bloody 6...

2011-03-05T09:10:00.002-01:00

Ok, so the Paddy's ended up beating the Poms. Brilliant. From what I saw, the Poms made too many basic mistakes. Serves them right.

It's Thursday evening, nearly 19h00 and I'm back in Heroes having a pint, and some fish and chips. It's the WEEKEND!!

Doesn't look like I'll get to go fishing as I've been cropped by my contact, I think.

There's plenty other things to do and probably at a fraction of the price the fishing might have cost.

The gRand Mosque seems to be one of the places to see but it has to be done in long pants due to religious custom.

There's also Ferrari World, which could be interesting but I think it's more of an amusement park for kids than for adults. Still, I enjoy roller coasters, so it's an option.

I could try some shopping again, go to a couple of the less-extravagant souqs, maybe just walk along a main street and see where I end up.

that's tomorrow though...

Today was a work day like every other but I think I'm finally getting on top of this project. I probably know more about the client's systems than some of its employees do.

As usual, in at 08h30 and out at 5pm, except that I took another walk to Starbucks for a quiche and coffee, just to get out and clear my head. It really is tiring reading documents and crunching spreadsheets all day long, especially in an unfamiliar environment like this.

Tonight, after my pint, I might just go for a walk. There's a mall not too far away and shopping goes to midnight on weekends.

This has been an unbelievably long trip for me, more than all the others. I can only imagine what SWMBO must be going through at home, on her own in that big house with only the animals to keep her company.

It looks like there might be another cricekt upset on the cards - Canada needs 81 to beat Pakistan, off 107 balls. Definately in Canada's favour...

SWMBO can be a little bit "blonde" sometimes and now and then it irritates me cos I wouldn't have done the same thing the same way. I sometimes get annoyed when she does or says something that affects me in a way I don't necessarily like. That said, we have been together nearly ten years, so there's a bit of give and take, and forgiveness, between us. I'm sure there are things I do or say that she doesn't like either, especially when my logical brain kicks in, or my naturally risk-averse personality takes over. I'm also not very frugal when it comes to spending either, but SWMBO can be and, again, sometimes it gets to me. I guess we're both selfish in a few ways when we want to be.

In the end, Canada lost...threw it away, bloody idiots.

Leaving Heroes, I grabbed the camera bag and headed onto the busy streets. Middle East streets come alive at night, until late, mostly because it is cooler then.

I check out some clothing shops but nothing grabs my attention. Most of the clothing is very poor quality, even worse than we get in SA. A lot of it is shiny, like track suit bling crap...not for me...

I find a couple of electronics shops too and consider buying an iPod (maybe even an iPad) but I resist at nearly ZAR2,600.

By the end of the night, I find i have walked for nearly three hours! I had no idea it was that long and I was exhausted when I finally got back to the hotel.

Needless to say, I put the "do not disturb" sign up on the room door and end up sleeping until nearly 9am the following morning...

Part 7 in a bit...

Abu Dhabi...part 5...

2011-03-05T08:52:00.002-01:00

Couldn't get much more than 5hrs sleep last night. Don't know why. It wasn't too hot or cold in the room but it might have been cos I'd nodded off for a couple of minutes the previous evening and then woken up again. That always affects my sleep.

After the usual morning routine, I hailed a taxi and headed of to the oven/office and what promised to be an interesting project team meeting.

Firstly, it was delayed by 30mins by the client, so when the PM called and said to join our guys at Dunkin Donuts, I wasn't too keen on it, having just eaten, but it sounded like I was going to get a heads-up on the upcoming meeting and I went along for the walk. And to get out of the office for a while.

The guys went through two donuts and a coffee each, but I couldn't have faced that sickly sweet stuff so early in the morning, so I had nothing except the pleasant walk.

We got back to the office about 5mins after we were supposed to have, and everyone was waiting for us...talk about giving them a stick to beat us with.

I grabbed my laptop and notebook as I had a feeling I was about to get a grilling about the interim risk report I had finished a couple of days earlier and that had been sent to the client the day before.

The meeting lasted about an hour, more than half of which was the CIO telling us how he, on behalf of the team, had completed negotiating the scope of the project with our company sales guy and how, basically, he had got his own way and that now everything that had been excluded from the scope, was now included, and how he would be the team's sole negotiator from now on. Fuckin' windbag. I think it was meant more for our benefit as we had been kicking against the scope since before I started on the team.

For the balance of the meeting, our PM ummm'd and ahhh'd his way through some stuff and we defended our risk report.

After that, it was back to my hot corner and more documentation that I had requested.

About 2pm I went out for a walk and ended up having a chicken salad and Americano coffee at the Starbucks around the corner.

The rest of the afternoon dragged by and at 17h10 I said goodnight to those that were left in the office and walked up to the BMW dealership for my taxi back to the hotel.

Straight away, I changed into baggies and went for a swim in the rooftop pool again. It was a bit uncomfortable as there was a nippy wind blowing up there, and quite strong.

After a good few lengths, I decided it was time for a beer, so I went and hot changed into jeans again and headed down to Heroes, where I ended up having two pints of Guinness and an Asian Chicken Burger with salad for dinner while I was there.

There were about a half dozen different nationalities in the bar, which is not uncommon. Standing next to me is a south African, a Yank, a German, a Filipino somewhere close, and also a black African language I don't recognise and an Englishman.

The England/Ireland cricket match is on and it doesn't look good for the Paddy's.

Finishing my meal and drink, I head up to the room and nod off to the TV again.

Lifestyles of the rich and famous....not. As you guys can see, travelling on project overseas is not a glamorous event at all. It sometimes consists of long hours working, but mostly it consists of tedious routine (hotel, work, hotel) and not much else, as you are away from your familiar environment of home, family, friends ad familiar surroundings. It gets a bit much after a couple of weeks away...

Part 6 coming up...

On project in Abu Dhabi...part 4...

2011-03-05T08:27:00.002-01:00

As I had promised myself, I worked from the hotel today, even though I couldn't smell any garlic on my breath.

I sent an email to both PM's just to keep them in the picture, to let them know where I was, in case they anyone worried or asked.

About 30mins later, I got an email back from the doos client PM saying "For today I let it slide, but while he is here he must be on site". WTF??? I'm sitting in a sun-baked corner, reading crappily-prepared document and generally being ignored by all and sundry and that fucker wants me on site? Wanker...

We have the weekly meeting on Wednesday so maybe I'll say something then, depending on whether he does or how pissed off I get during the meeting. I'm starting to understand why my colleague says they are a "difficult client". Understatement...

Anyway...I work until just after 6pm and decide on another swim. As soon as I open the door to the pool deck, loud music hits me in the head. Latino music.

There, under the arches by the bar, is an aerobics class in full swing. About 9 or 10 women (I see later one of them is a guy...his tights fooled me) in rough time with the class leader, some of the "bigger" ladies sweating profusely. The main thing is that they are enjoying themselves and calling out in time with phrases of the songs.

I'm in the pool for about 30mins and, when I leave, they are still at it. Good for them.

After changing into jeans, I head upstairs for dinner, to discover that what I thought was "Vincent's" is, in fact, "The Garden". It's confusing, thanks to the sign on the wall in the restaurant. Vincent's is through a small door, nothing more than a smoke-smelling room with a grand piano in the centre. I don't think I'll be visiting it if it's just a smoking room.

I get told that it's Seafood Buffet evening and I think "Ok, that's for me." The food is, as usual, awesome. Sushi for starters, saldads next, all sorts of fish-based main meals including cook-your-own whole fish, curries, grilled sea bass, vegetables, roast potatoes and rice.

I'm writing this waiting for my first two courses to go down, so that I can have a go at the curries and savoury dishes. They're too good looking to pass up, and all the food has been amazing so far. SWMBO would love it here, even just for the food.

there's even crayfish tails on offer, but as I'm not a lover of that kind of tail, I give it a miss. If SWMBO were here, that's all she would be eating.

The curries are, unfortunately, a bit of a disappointment as they are more like savoury stews. Otherwise, I could not fault the food.

I think I'll pass on the cheese and biscuits tonight and see what's on the dessert trolley instead. Just for a change.

Again, the dessert trolley offerings are just "wow". I settled on a little raspberry jelly, honey-nougat tart, butterscotch cheesecake, and a scoop of creme caramel. More than enough. I even pass up on the offer of a cup of coffee, thinking I'll give it a couple of minutes and I'll go down to the lobby and see if I can scare up a Turkish coffee to round off my meal.

As it happens, the Turkish coffee wasn't as good as the Dubai hotel, but it still went down well and helped with digestion.

Part 5 of Abu Dhabi coming soon...

It's F..F..F..Fursday...

2011-03-03T05:39:00.002-01:00

...and almost the weekend, which, as you all know by now, is Friday and Saturday over here.

I am waiting to hear from that friend-of-a-friend if I will be going fishing on one of the weekend days. He let me know yesterday that they had been having problems with the motors on one of their boats, but was still exploring possibilities open. So...hold thumbs on that one...

Failing that, there will be some other tourist stuff I can do over the days off.

I can go and visit the Sheikh Zayed Mosque (3rd largest in the world), Port Zayed, any of the numerous malls (although they are nothing as elaborate as Dubai's malls, I am told), the Bateen Shipyard where traditional dhows are still built by hand, the Heritage Village which shows traditional Bedouin lifestyle in past ages, the Al Ain National Museum (where I can pick up more "dust collectors" as SWMBO puts it), then there's always Yas Island (home of the world famous Ferrari World theme park - though I doubt I'll go there with its price tag of AED225 or ZAR450)...we'll see.

The weekend is my oyster...

On project in Abu Dhabi....part 3...

2011-03-02T16:18:00.003-01:00

Awake at 06h30 with the alarm (that time already?) and I catch up on Sky News before the shit/shower/shave routine and head up to the 9th floor for my fruit-laden breakfast. No Pork Corner in this place, or at least I haven't found it yet.

I saunter into the office at about 08h30 and get ready to sweat for the day - literally. The heat in my corner is worse than yesterday for some unknown reason.

I work until just after 1pm when I need a break from the documents and slide decks, so I decide to walk down to the Corniche, just a block away, but the only thing I can find to eat and drink, because it's prayer time and everything is shut, is an apple-filled donut and a cup of coffee at a stall along the beach front. Ah well, at least I'm out of the office and clearing my head. But it's damn hot in the open air so it's less than an hour and I'm back in the air-conned office at my desk. Somehow, it feels cooler than earlier but it's probably because I've just been outside.

Again, at 5pm, I leave and get a taxi back to the hotel, where I get changed and decide to go for a swim.

First...this time I have a Paki driver. All the taxi drivers are ex-pats from somewhere further east than here, as the Arabs won't stoop so low to become a labourer such as this.

The driver is chatting away, asks me where I'm from and I answer "Cape Town". "Where?" he asks. Ha, I knew I would catch you on that one, I think. Then he asks me if I've brought Euros or UK Pounds with me. I'm like "Dude, WTF for?" and I tell him I only have USD on me, at which he asks if he can have a dollar.

I tell him my smallest note is a $5 bill and he asks if he can see it. At first I think "Not a fuck" then he shows me some old Indian Rupee and Vietnamese notes so I think "WTF" and show him the $5 bill. He turns it round and round, over and back, reads every word printed on it, then asks if he can have it. "I don't think so" I say. "Why you not give me?" he asks about fifty times at which I snatch it back from him before it disappears and I have to smack him about the head to get it back, possibly facing assault charges in the process. In the end, I tell him he can't have it cos I have expenses too.

Just as well the hotel arrived then, otherwise I would have sworn at the fucker. you'd swear I'd stolen his money the way he muttered under his breath and looked at me when I gave him only enough for the fare. As I left the taxi, I heard him mutter something unintelligible and, in return I said "Bye Mudderchod" and I'm sure he heard and understood me perfectly.

Ok, so I decided to go for a swim...

the pool is on the roof of the hotel, one floor above the gym and I grab the lift to the "PD" floor ("pool deck", Fishman). I think the water is going to be cold compared to the ambient temperature, but my watch tells me it is 32degC...the pool is heated.

the inlet is 36degC so the pool loses 4deg to the atmosphere...big deal. It's a pleasure to swim in, like a bath.

A half hour later, I take some photos of the streets below and of the sunset, then head to the room to change and go for a beer in Heroes.

I only have one, then go to the Italian pizzeria attached to the hotel, called "Spaccanapoli" where I am greeted by a petite Vietnamese woman in a black one-piece dress. She is the epitome of good service, "Are you staying in the hotel?" "Yes, I am." "Are you a Priority Club member?" "Yes, actually, I am." "Ah good, then we have a special table for you, sir. What is your room number?" (for the bill, nothing else).

She shows me to a table in a little enclave that has a view of the street two floors below and it's a pity I'm on my own as it would have been romantic with SWMBO here (like Lady and the Tramp, where they suck the spaghetti strand from opposite ends and end up kissing).

The team of waiters has just sung Happy Birthday to a little girl in a language I didn't recognise. She is beaming.

I have a starter of fritters and salad, with a carafe of Italian merlot, and quite a nice wine it is too.

A bread plate arrives too, accompanied by bits of mozzarella cheese and a whole head of roasted garlic cloves. I devour both and decide I am going to work from the hotel the following day, cos I'm going to stink of garlic, I just know it.

For my main course, I have a Quattro Stagioni pizza, half of which I decide to take back to the hotel for lunch the next day.

The wine was the most expensive part of the meal at about ZAR70 for 250ml...WTF, the company is paying for it. Or, at least, the client is paying for it in the end.

The whole bill comes to around ZAR220, not bad for what I had.

I decide to have an "early" night and fall asleep around 22h30 with the TV on. Why does one always fall asleep during the interesting programs?

Part 4 of Abu Dhabi coming up soon...

On project in Abu Dhabi...part 2...

2011-03-02T15:47:00.003-01:00

...or, if you had to put the number into Arabic...a backward 7...

It's difficult to believe that our own numeral system of 0 to 9 is actually based on this system and not Sanskrit or any other ancient language.

I find it amusing to figure out the numerals on the car registration plates, most of which have either both Arabic and "western", or just western.

The strange thing about the language is that, although it is read from right to left (unlike us, from left to right), the numbers are read from left to right as we do. I think it must be confusing.

Anyway, back to the adventure...

So...today is Monday. The western world is back at work today. I'm glad for you all. Me, i started work again yesterday, on sunday, the day of rest, church day for some, chill out day (normally) for me.

Actually, it doesn't really matter. I'm an agnostic aetheist so Sunday is just another weekday for me. 1 of 7.

Today is Sunday. The PM picks me up at the hotel around 9am and we go off to meet with the client.

A ten minute drive and we're at their office, a green, unmarked block with a "for rent" sign on it. Beliveve it or not, a bank that doesn't own its own head office.

We have a quick meeting with the project sponsor, their PM just keeping quiet in subservience. Me, I'm doing all the talking fro our side. We'll do this, that, won't do that, etc. It all seems to go well.

Eventually, I'm shown a corner desk that, obviously from its location, no-one else wanted as it is in perpetual sunlight with only thin blinds to stop me from getting a major squint-induced headache.

The local techie rigs up my internet connection, fuckin' up my normal settings in the process by putting in a proxy server address so that I can get out of their LAN. Because of this, I cannot see any of our company websites, not even the www sites. Ah well, tough shit.

The rest of my working day is spent reading and re-reading documents, trying to decipher what is in the project scope and what isn't.

At 5pm, I decide I've had enough. My head is buzzing, partly from the sun and partly from the reading.

I head to the main intersection nearby and grab a taxi back to the hotel, where I get changed and think "fuckit" and head down to the "Heroes" bar for a drink.

Fuck me if the draught isn't half the price it is in Dubai!! I sit there for almost two hours, have three pints of Guinness and a great chicken yellow curry, with sambals and rice, for dinner.

I watch most of the England/India cricket match, Liverpool losing the football match to West Ham, and most of Scotland getting beaten by Ireland in the Six Nations rugby...all at the same time. There are more TV's in this place that any two sports bars in Shit Towne. I left the bar partly because of the rugby score and partly because my ears were ringing. The place is deafening, with all the TV noises mixed in with cheering fans and general bar noise.

Back in my room, I have a shower to get rid of the smell of cigarette smoke (Wreckless, they still allow smoking in bars here) and I climb into bed with the remote control.

A good day, all told...

Part 3 of Abu Dhabi coming right up...

On project in Dubai (part 7) and Abu Dhabi (part 1)...

2011-03-01T17:02:00.003-01:00

Awake at 8am as the alarm is about to sound. I'm nervous as I don't know how I'm going to get to Abu dhabi today.

The Dubai booking was only for five nights and the other ten are in Abu Dhabi.

I check my email to see if the PM has got hold of the client official to change the booking but, as expected, there's no reply.

I shower, dress and head down for another bacon-laden breakfast. The arabs don't know what they are missing...

Afterward, I send the PM a sms, but his reply is that he has heard nothing and that I should book a taxi and charge it to the project. He at least apologises for not having organised something in advance.

At the concierge's desk, I book a "limo", a private taxi, for AED350 (ZAR700). Fuckit, the company is paying for it.

I finish my packing and final web browsing and head back down to the lobby at 11h40 to check out in time for my 12h00 limo. The driver is already waiting for me, which is a pleasant surprise.

The receptionist hands me AED350 in cash, which I am to give the driver when we get to my destination, the Crowne Plaza hotel in Abu Dhabi. I'm not sure why they don't just pay the driver themselves. I should have charged them a commission for being a broker.

The drive starts off pleasant enough, but about half an hour into it, the driver, Lancy Menezes from Goa, India, starts fidgeting in his seat.

All of a sudden I realise why when the smell hits me. The fucker farted. And he went on farting for the rest of the trip, trying to mask his fidgeting by looking at me in the rearview mirror and asking if I think he's a good driver or not.

Realistically, he's a fuckin' terrible driver, drifting between lanes, speeding, cutting people off (common practice here) and talking on his Dingleberry in Urdu. I string him along though, telling him he's a better driver than some that I've seen over here. I didn't lie to him cos it's true, there are some absolutely dreadful drivers here.

We go past a huge mosque, which I make a mental note to go and visit if I get a chance next weekend. First prize though, would be a fishing trip with a pal of a pal of mine who has a boat operation here somewhere.

The large mosques are magnificent structures, all marble, granite and glass. This one is one of the largest in the UAE.

At the hotel, I pay fart-boy and head indoors out of the heat. It is just gone 2pm and is still scorching.

Check-in is easy and my luggage is delivered to my room a couple of minutes after I get upstairs.

I put the kettle on, send SWMBO a sms to say I've arrived, and turn the TV on. To my delight I see that one of the channels is showing the Super Rugby series which means that I can see the Sharks game later, which is where I am writing this. More about it later, but the score is currently 19-12 to the Sharks over the Blues, with 10 minutes to go.

I unpack my case (again) and drink my tea while having one eye on the Waratahs / Reds game. That done, I log on and check what's happening on the web, but there's nothing much, so I decide to go for a walk.

At the front desk, a guy explains a couple of places to see within walking distance and I head off to the "new souq".

It's not too hot, but it is still warmer than at home, and the humidity is not as high as Dubai even though I'm less than 1km from the Persian Gulf here.

The new souq is very new. Not even half of the shops have tenants yet. the building is amazing. From the outside it is non-descript, but the inside is a wonder of woodwork panels, coloured glass and lighting.

There is the Arabia-specific smell of burning sandalwood incense in the air and it is very pleasant.

There are antiques of all sizes, ornately carved cupboards, and wooden ornaments/artifacts. There is a wheel-sized thing that I would love to take home, but at AED24,000, I decide not to (yes, ZAR48,000!!).

Final score is 26-12 to the Sharks...woohoo...

Coming out of the souq, I decide to head towards the gulf. The map shows it to be about 500m or so away, but I am surprised to find that the last 100m or so is an esplanade, beautifully covered in blue and white paving, with frequent areas of trees and picnic spots.

The water is a pale blue, not quite clear, but it looks warm. It is the Persian Gulf, in the middle of one of the hottest parts on earth, so it should be warm.

There are many pedestrians, joggers and cyclists, and even a few fishermen. All I've seen them catch so far have been a few tiddlers about two inches long, and they've all disappeared into the angler's bags. Maybe that's all they get in these parts.

One guy has a fishing pole, with just line, float and baited hook that he drops into the water. The length of the pole is about 5m. He waits until the bait settles, then lodges the pole into the railing cables and sits down next to his mates to chat and puff on his sheesha (hubbly bubbly).

I walk on, getting an uncomfortable feeling that if I'd taken photos he might have got upset.

There are a number of boats on the water and a flotilla of jetskis screaming up and down the length of the waterway.

As the sun sets, I get some good photos of the sun going down behind some distant clouds, and I decide to head back to the hotel to catch the sharks/Blues game at 7pm, which I've already mentioned the score for.

There's a pub called "Heroes" in the hotel basement and I literally walk in and out without breaking stride. The air is thick with tobacco smoke and there is standing room only. the place is packed with ex-pats drinking and not one TV is turned to the Sharks game so I decide to watch it from the comfort of my bed.

Almost two hours later, victory to the Sharks, I head for the 9th floor and a restaurant called "Vincents" for dinner. The meal is a buffet spread and, after ordering a diet Coke for the oncoming guilt, start on the salad course. Then it's roast potatoes and lamb with vegetables (carrots and cauliflower) followed by a small helping of vegetable curry on rice, chased with a cup of strong coffee and cheese and biscuits. I skip the dessert tray.

Back in my room, I pop off a quick sms to SWMBO to see if she wants to chat on Skype, but I forgot she is out at friends for dinner. I send another to say we can chat tomorrow rather.

I also discover that I have blisters on my feet from walking as much as I have been in relatively new strollers. I'm going to have to pop them, I think, and wear flops for a couple of days when I go walking again.

Due to the two hour time difference with SA, the Stormers / Lions game is on TV, even though it is 22h20 here. I'll finish watching it and then get some sleep. Sunday is a work day here...

Part 2 of Abu Dhabi coming soon...

On project in Dubai...Part 6...

2011-03-01T16:38:00.003-01:00

I'm awake with the alarm, but as usual, switch on Sky News for a while to see what's happening in Libya. That's about all that's on the news these days. It's like nothing else is going on, not even football results are getting as much coverage. It's time that fuckwit Gaddafi took the hint and disappeared in a blaze of 9mm hollow point smoke, splattering his brain cell over a far-off wall. Either that, or take off to Zimbabwe to visit his buddy Bob Mugabe, taking his millions along with him for more facelift surgery, before his people lynch him.

Showered and dressed in shorts, t-shirt and sandals, I head down for breakfast. I have the usual bowl of diced fruit and yoghurt to start with and the I strike gold!! I find the "Pork Corner" as the buffet. As everyone knows, pig products are taboo to Moslems, but the UAE is quite liberal in a lot of respects. Wise move from the King if he wants more western tourism dollars to come in now that his oil is finished.

Anyway, along with my toast, fried egg, baked beans and hashbrown, I pile a pork sausage and a few strips of crispy bacon on as well. What a great way to start a day, and even take my mind off the chafed thighs for a while.

Finished and satisfied for a while, I head upstairs to pack a backpack with camera gear, suntan lotion, spectacles, wallet and watch, grab a cap and head to the concierge for some suggestions for sightseeing...not the usual tourist crap.

I settle on a shortish taxi ride to Bur Dubai, on the creek, for a wander around the souq and a ride on an "abra" across to the gold souq and back.

I pick up ten grams of Iranian saffron and a bag of coffee beans (also Iranian) for ZAR200 (bargain) then after a short walk around the streets, back across the creek again to find a couple of pashmina shawls for SWMBO.

On the way back across the creek a dirty bastard raghead seagull hits my leg with a flying squishy shit. Luckily it missed my camera otherwise I would have hunted it down and blown it out of the sky with my pocket RPG-7. Bastard.

Tired of walking around and being harassed by vendors selling "copies of Brietling, Rolex, Citizen watches" (exact words), I grab another taxi back to the hotel for a bit of a chill-out, ending up online on the fishing sites, checking work email and trying to change my hotel booking so that I can stay another night in Dubai, then travel to Abu Dhabi on Monday with the PM, saving the project the transport fare. It should be a simple enough request and, if I'd made the booking myself, wouldn't have been a problem. but I didn't make the booking, and the client representative who did make them is the only one the hotel will allow to change the details. And nobody works in Dubai on a Friday...nobody that counts, anyway. Fuck! I pop an email off to the PM and I know he'll try and get hold of the client but he is unsuccessful and will try again on Saturday morning.

I upload a couple of photos to my blog and notice, 30mins later, that the entire posting has vanished. That means that the UAE government has someone who can hack into my blog and delete MY shit!! Fuck that!! there are only tourist photos, nothing else, so they have ABSOLUTELY NO RIGHT to fuck with my blog, not that they have any in the first place. I didn't give them permission and it's my intellectual capital on the postings.

Later, I notice that an image I posted of Prince William and Kiss-me-Kate christening a new RNLI lifeboat has come back on my blog. Obviously, not of great concern to the paranoid government official who's monitoring my postings.

At 7pm, I go down for a burger at TGIFridays (ironically, it is Friday), which is okay and relatively cheap at about ZAR60.

Now I'm writing this from Barbera's coffee place, having just finished another of their great Turkish coffees.

I'm about to head up to my room and fall asleep in front of the TV, for a change. TV programs are crap here - 74 channels of shit, one of Sky News, and another of Arabic music. They need DSTv here, like they have in Saudi Dryland.

Part 7 on its way...

Pesky wife, stay where you are...

2011-03-01T11:13:00.001-01:00

Brilliant....

Some One-Liners, translated from Afrikaans...

2011-03-01T08:22:00.004-01:00

Just so that some of the other nations can have a laugh too. Some of them are brilliant...

She has so many wrinkles, she has to screw her hat on!
I am now so lazy my backside is hanging open!
He is so thin, he looks like a pencil with a handbreak!
I'm as excited as a Budgie on steroids!
I'm as lazy as a bee - I do not want to sting - I just want to hang around the cake a while!
I was so drunk last night when I woke up this morning I was hanging on the chair and my clothes lay in bed!
I am now so keen for a Rennies I think I'll eat a pie!
You're so squint you can look yourself in the eyes!
Out of sitting or standing, lying down is still the best.
He's so short he does not know whether he has a sore throat or piles!
He was so thin when he walked along a white wall it looked like a crack was moving!
He is so cunning, he prays under a pseudonym!
I'm going to hit you so hard that you'll feel like doing nothing!
I am now sitting so nicely I might just get up and sit down again.
As long a face as a goat eating downhill.
Liquor may not solve problems, but neither does milk or water.
I feel so good now, I might just fill in the lotto numbers incorrectly.
I am so lazy I might just marry a pregnant woman.
Experience is something you only get after you need it.
Everybody gets the privilege to be stupid, just a pity some people abuse it.
I'm so pissed off, I could just kiss a puff adder open-mouthed.
My wife is so ugly, when she sits on the beach, cats want to cover her up!
Eagles may fly high but our mongooses are never sucked into an aircraft engine.
All men are on earth with a certain amount of work to do. Right now I am so far behind I will never die.
Not all of us can be heroes, someone has to stands and clap hands at the side of the road as we go by.
I believe that if something was worth doing someone would have done it long ago.
You should never exceed the weight of your refrigerator!
If you can laugh at yourself then you always have something to laugh at.
If you look like your passport picture, you have a need to travel.

This is the best one yet...

2011-03-01T03:22:00.003-01:00

We see so many of these phishing and scam artist emails these days, that I don't usually bother with them. This one, however, deserves a mention, purely because of the nom-de-plume the fucker has used...

From the Desk of Edger Hoover
Investigating Officer,
Ministry of Finance
630066 Hatton Garden ,
London ECIN 8LE.
Mobile : +44 792 4556 244

Confidential Information

Dear Friend,

My name is Edger Hoover; I work with the Ministry of Finance, and I have seen that several times people tried to divert your funds into their own personal account I mean those you call your partners. Now I write to you in respect of the amount which I have been able to send to you through the Federal Government Diplomat who has arrived in Africa, now I want you to know that the diplomat would deliver the funds which I have package as a diplomatic compensation to you and the amount in the consignment is $6,000.000.00 (Six Million Dollars Only).

To this end, I did not disclose the content to the diplomat that the box contain money but I told him that it is your compensation from the Government House and from our affiliate in United State, I want you to know that this funds would help your financial status as I have seen in record in London and in United State that you have spent a lot trying to receive this funds. I am not demanding so much from you but Just 40% of the funds.

I want you to get back to me so that I can give you the contact information of the diplomat who has arrived Africa for the past two days and have been waiting to get your information so that he can proceed with the delivery to your doorstep.

Yours Sincerely,
Mr. Edger Hoover

As usual, I ignore the email, but in the off chance that the fucker reads my blog....FUCK OFF, YA STUPID BASTARD!!

This is PISSING ME OFF!!!!!!!

2011-02-28T11:53:00.003-01:00

Some little bastard is fuckin' around with my postings.

I cannot post comments to other blogs, nor can I check my Facebook page.

I am not sure if it is the client's web nanny filtering what I can and cannot do while I am connected to their internet connection, or if it's the proxy settings I had to set before I could get onto their WAN.

Whatever it is, it's annoying the fuck out of me...

SWMBO just made my day...

2011-02-28T11:28:00.003-01:00

I got an email from SWMBO back home, which almost had me laughing out loud in the office. I would have if the people around me weren't so dour.

I could picture her expression and shriek from what she told me...

I must tell you a funny story. Actually - at the time it wasn't so funny. On Friday morning had to act as vigilator for some of the (clientname) people who were writing their CBCI exam. I was about to leave and realised I do not have anywhere to put all the exam booklets and answer sheets etc. that I need to take with me. My laptop bag was not big enough so I was looking in your study area to see if there was a shopping bag of some sorts that I could use. I see a nice slim black bag with zips and a nice long handle and think "perfect". It looked like it was a "new" item that has turned into a "fishing bag" so I just decided to take out whatever was in it. I nearly SHAT myself as I stuck my hand in cause something got hold of my finger and wouldn't let go. And....... to top it all, there was more than one of those "chocka buggers" in the damned bag. I did let out a couple of swear words. I took everything out and released these "creatures" from my finger. I was now 15 minutes late but at least I got a decent bag. I am not touching those "things" again. They are lying on your desk. I just hope I remember it when I am on the house phone. I might forget and put my hand on them again. I think i should move them RIGHT NOW before I get the fright of my life again. Geez..... I did laugh afterwards in the car. You cannot imagine what went through my mind when I put my hand into that bag. Yikes.

This is what SWMBO touched...those little spikes at the bottom, luckily, do not have any barbs otherwise she might have had to go to a doctor to have them removed...

The Architecture images are back...

2011-02-26T06:22:00.002-01:00

so it means that someone decided my photos were not of a subversive nature and reposted them back onto my blog...

Shukran, whomever you are...

On project in Dubai...Part 5...

2011-02-26T05:37:00.002-01:00

Finishing in the office around 17h30, I head back to the hotel for a weekend that's a day earlier than I am used to. Like I care?

The train is packed with other weekend hopefuls also heading home. The ride is uneventful.

Back in the hotel, I decide I am going to walk to the Dubai Mall. It is only 2km or so from the hotel and in the cool evening air it should be pleasant.

Which means it could only get shitty.

And shitty, it was. The first part of the walk was fine, the pavements are wide and uncrowded and you don't have to continually watch your back like you do in SA and other countries. Nobody fucks with anybody else here...it's great.

The place probably has its crime, but I haven't seen any...yet...and I don't care to either.

I walk past the station I usually use to get to the office, heading for the next one as a landmark. The Sheikh Fayed freeway is as busy as the N1 through the Woodmead interchange, except that this goes on 24hrs a day here. There is no respite from traffic in Dubai.

About 500m past the second station, they are building a new offramp to take cars off towards the new Burj Khalifa, the tallest tower in the world. For this, they have blocked all routes around the freeway and are even digging a tunnel in the road parallel to it, so that is blocked off too. As a result, I have to walk back the 500m to the second station, then cross over there using the bridge as a thoroughfare, but that side of the freeway is dark and dodgy-looking so I opt for the train instead. It takes me the last 600m to the Burj Khalifa station and there is still another kilometer to walk from there to the Dubai Mall itself.

All this is happening in +100% humidity, even though the air is cool. I can feel my bollocks sweating in my jeans and my thighs chafing against the denim. Not good - I know I am going to regret wearing these jeans by morning.

The mall is fuckin' massive - quite possibly the biggest in the world (though I haven't checked) - and certainly 10x the size of Sandton Mall in Shit Towne. There are five wings to the mall, each with four floors of wide shopping avenues, almost like highways in themselves.

There is an aquarium with an underwater zoo, with a mall-facing window which must be 50m long and 10m high so that the public can see all the creatures and fish in the marine tank. There are at least three ragged tooth sharks, countless eagle rays, kingfish, elephant fish, variegated batfish, and the biggest fuckoff brindle bass I have ever seen. A monster.

I take some photos but there is a lot of backlight reflection from the shop windows behind me and I cannot find a section of glass that does not have a reflection of some kind.

After watching some young arabs get chased away from touching the glass, I see a sign saying "Waterfall Court" and I think "Uh huh, that should be interesting".

FFS, there is a four storey face of water running down a granite backdrop, dotted with stainless steel figures, all in a downward-diving pose mounted on the wall. Magnificent is all that comes to mind. More photos at all angles and distances.

After that I find the food court and have what's known as a "Bento Box". Indonesian noodles the thickness of caterpillars, half a dozen skewered prawns, three chicken drumsticks and a small pile of beef pieces, all in a savoury sauce. Accompanied by a diet Pepsi, it;s not too heavy a meal and relatively cheap at about ZAR70.

I buy nothing in the mall except for an ice cream cone with two scoops of Italian ice cream on it, caramel and chocolate flavours. Even that cost ZAR42, which would explain why I bought nothing else.

I had wanted to buy a couple of casual shirts but I refuse to pay ZAR700 for a piece of cloth that says "Levi" or "Tommy Fuckin' Hilfiger" on it. No way!!

I walk out into the area between the mall wings to find there is a musical dancing fountain display and it too is quite spectacular as you will see by the photos when I get them posted.

The walk back to the train is nice and cool except for the sweating in my jeans caused by the humidity.

It's just as well I left the mall when I did as it is the last train for the night. It is 23h30. I couldn't have faced a walk back to the hotel in sweaty jeans.

Back in the hotel, I set the alarm for 8am so that I can go sightseeing while I have the opportunity.

Part 6, coming soon to a blog near you...

On project in Dubai...Part 4...

2011-02-25T17:04:00.005-01:00

I end up working until 01h30 and, after emailing my report to the guys, shut the laptop down and brush my teeth before climbing into bed with the TV remote control, so that I can relax my mind a bit before sleeping.

I planned to wake at 8am and that's exactly what happened. A dead sleep, didn't even wake up once. Fuckin' marvellous...

Late the previous day, I had managed to connect the cell phone briefly to the Etisalat network and got some sms's in from some people, including SWMBO, who is worried about the globe on the garage wall (which we had already discussed on Skype).

I also go a SMS from Vodacom, welcoming me to Dubai and, if there are any problems, to send a SMS to +27821111.

It takes all of ten seconds to fire a SMS off to them that explains the problems I'm having with my connectivity. Almost immediately I get an acknowledgement that they will investigate and that someone would phone me within two days. TWO DAYS??? (btw, it's been three and I still haven't heard from anyone).

Anyway, I don't know what they did but since then I have had no problems remaining connected.

Back to today...

I watch Sky News for a while, with interest at what is happening in Libya and feeling pity for those poor buggers in New Zealand after their earthquake.

About 9am I hit the gym again, same routine as before, then back to check email and web, then get showered and dressed to go to breakfast. The hotel manual shows that they stop serving at 11h30, but when I get there at 11h10, I get told that they've already stopped. WTF?

Anyway, I grab my stuff thinking I'll grab a sandwich at the office. However, at the bottom of the hotel escalator, there's an Italian restaurant called "Barberas". Turns out it's named after the Indian guy who opened it, back in 1870...go figure. I decide to stop there and have a panini (tuna and cheese) and a Turkish coffee. I'd been wanting a Turkish coffee since coming back to the region and at AED15 (ZAR30), I thought "fuckit". It's better than any espresso cos it's like espresso X 10 and more aromatic. Very tasty.

So now, lunch over, I'll grab the Metro into the office for a couple of hours.

Part 5 to follow...

On project in Dubai...Part 3...

2011-02-25T16:28:00.002-01:00

And what a great sleep it was - 8hrs solid! I didn't want to get out of bed and felt myself drift off a couple of times but resisted the urge.

I staggered out of bed, showered, shaved, shampoo'ed and ad shumshing to eat and then I'm on the Metro train to the office where I spend a boring, tiring day reading piles of documents and trying to complete a report, without much success. The room I was working in must have been an old fridge to the building's previous tenants. It was fuckin' freezing.

So, it was with much relief, that I got kicked out of the room at 4pm by some arab wanting his room for a conference call. On ye go, pal, freeze yer bollocks off.

For the first time in three train rides I managed to get a seat. So now I was able to have a look out of the windows at some of the sights without having to worry about overbalancing.

There are some amazing buildings in Dubai - all glass fronts, which means their aircon bills all year round must be astronomical, but even more so in summer.

I'll post some photos of buildings after the weekend, which starts on Thursday afternoon. In arabland, the weekend is Friday and Saturday, but in Saudi Dryland, it is Thursday and Friday. UAE royalty is trying to convince the Saudis to change to the same days as the UAE so that only one business day is lost to the rest of the world instead of two. Not much chance of that cos they are religious fanatics there and weekends are sacred.

Anyway...there are a couple of huge malls on the train route, so I'll be hopping on and off on Friday morning, doing a bit of shopping.

The exchange rate here is easy to calculate. Basically, take the AED price and double it on anything you want to buy, to convert it to ZAR. The UAE currency is twice as strong as SA. All because of oil. Or what oil they had. The rate never varies and is pegged at AED3.66 to USD1.

Back to the hotel and I sign online again and have a lengthy Skype chat with SWMBO at home. Actually, it was more like a lengthy listen, with me interjecting now and then to explain how to change a light bulb on the garage wall fitting...

At around 7pm, I felt like something to eat before I do a couple of hours more work and I'm writing this (eat your heart out, Sisturrrr) from the Wagamama's restaurant on the ground floor of the hotel.

The food is great. The deep-fried squid could have come straight out of the sea, it was so tender, and the chicken yellow curry (with bed of rice) was nicely spiced and not too make-your-nose-run hot.

Coupled with that, a pint of Chinese "Tiger" draught beer and I'm reluctant to go back to the room to work, but work I must. Sadly, I pay my bill and make my way back up the escalator and take the lift to the 5th floor.

Hoo hum...the life of a project resource in Dubai...

Part 4 coming soon...

I don't believe it...

2011-02-25T13:28:00.003-01:00

but it appears there is a UAE government official somewhere who is hacking my blog AND REMOVING THE PHOTOS I'VE BEEN POSTING!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I put up a photo of a new lifeboat that Prince William and his stukkie, Kate, had blessed with cheap champagne over the bows....and it is gone!!!!

I also put up a few photos of some of the architecture in Dubai, as some of the buildings are simply amazing. The photos have all been of a tourist nature....AND THEY'RE ALL GONE TOO!!!!!!!!!!

If anyone from the less-insecure part of the world can still see the pics, please let me know...thanks...

If they have gone, then the official's efforts have all been in vain, as I'll simply post them again when I get home...DOH!!!

UPDATE!!!!! By the time I'd posted this, whomever it was that was hijacking my postings, put the lifeboat pic back....obviously does not warrant censure because it is a photo of a British boat and not local...

I'll put an image of the Metro Station below again, to see if it happens again...

Some Dubai Architecture photos...

2011-02-25T12:00:00.011-01:00

There are some amazing buildings, old and new, in Dubai. Here's a selection of some of them...more to follow...

These were taken with my phone camera...

Inside of the Metro Station buildings, they are all identical.

The Burj Khalifa building - the highest in the world.

An old South African favourite.

Front facade of the Crowne Plaza hotel where I am staying.

Not sure what buildings these are. They are over the road from the hotel.

Mall of the Emirates - with snow ski slope (angled roof).

Not sure what these buildings are. There is a "Business Bay" area where a pile of new high rises are going up and these are some of them.

These buildings are diagonally behind the office building. I loved the late afternoon sunlight behind them.

This one shows a Metro Station building from the outside (they're also known as Armadillo's here).

The entrance to Dubai Internet City, where the office is. Just about all the major IT players are within a stone throw of each other, most around a fountained park.

Just to the right of the entrance to Dubai Internet City.

The Arenco media company building, next to the office.

Caught sight of a hot air balloon in the sky on my walk to the Armadillo.

I wonder...

2011-02-25T11:55:00.002-01:00

if we could get our own royalty (Zuma or Malema) to come and bless our new NSRI jetski?

On Project in Dubai - Part 2

2011-02-24T06:29:00.005-01:00

Ok, so last time I was told by the PM to get some more rest...blah, blah, blah...

In the end, I ended up doing more email and web browsing. My phone will not receive any calls or sms's - no idea why, but must be the network operator/provider, of which there are only 2 in Dubai, Etisalat and Du (short for DUH, I think).

The only one that connects on roaming for any length of time is Du and no amount of fiddling with settings has changed anything. I can send sms's but not receive, go figure.

Anyway, about midday the PM comes up on IM and I feel guilty enough to say I was just on my way out the door to go to the office.

I get my shit together and down to the door for a taxi after changing some USD for AED (Dirhams). The damn internal claims system will not allow us to claim our per diem allowance in advance anymore and I have to fork out my own cash until I can get home and claim. Fuckup, corporation, fuckup...

For USD1 you get AED3.56 at the hotel desk so I change USD25 - figure it out for yourself what I got in local money.

Into a taxi, aircon belting cool air out, and straight back out the way I had come in last night towards the office.

En route, the Paki driver starts talking and it's either he is speaking Paki or else his "Engrish" is not good. the latter is right as I eventually pick up on a word and his accent, and it becomes a little easier.

He suddenly asks me "what is a canned message?" and I'm like "WTF?". After repeating himself about five times, he points to the meter screen. "Message come here", he says, "What mean?" and I'm "Uuhhh, dunno dude, must have something to do with the taxi system". Then he hauls out a tatty Oxford Dictionary, circa 1965, and says "Engrish no so good" and I have to politely tell him it's not too bad.

When I look up the word "canned" in the dictionary it gives a meaning that it could be something "pre-set" or "pre-prepared" so I figure I'll tell him it's a pre-set message that the system is programmed to send at an event, whatever that may be.

"Ahhh, event", he says "Event on now. You know tennis? Lots of events in Dubai. Tennis on now. ATP." So I tell him him "Ok. Good.", just to shut him up.

"What means this message" pointing to the screen again, "when says 'Ok to dep'?" What? All of a sudden I'm a fuckin' expert at canned taxi system messages? Fuckoff...

"Ummm, probably means it's okay to depart", I tell him. "Ahhh, okay" says Numpty. For all I know it was Arabic code for "Ok to deploy explosive device in taxi", FFS...

All the time I'm watching the meter wondering how long my AED are going to last at this rate. When we finally pull up at the office, it reads AED36.50 (ZAR73!!). I hand Numpty AED40 in exchange for a little piece of paper, also known as a receipt. At least I can claim the trip back, minus the tip.

In the office, the three of us get together and discuss the difficulties of the client (aren't they all fuckin' difficult?) and we swap some ideas and documents for a couple of hours. I grab myself a cup of espresso from a machine in the foyer for AED2 (ZAR4...bargain) and only when I get to the bottom of, having thought it was just exceptionally strong coffee, do I find the sugar in a translucent mass.

Then I notice the the "Metro" is running. It's an elevated train system which was under construction when I was last here, 3 years ago.

It runs the straight line between the hotel and the office so right away I'm on the web having a look at prices. As it happens, there's a 300m walk from station to hotel or office at either end, a multi-use card which costs AED20, of which AED14 is fare you can use, and you can recharge the card as required. Best of all, a one-way trip is only AED5.40!! Fuck the taxi!!

A pleasant 15min ride from station to station, no worrying about how badly a taxi is being hurtled from lane to lane and whether I'm going to survive the ordeal, just a smooth train ride. What a pleasure. On top of it all, it is completely automated, not even a driver onboard. If it's late, you know there's been a breakdown, which there has never been since the rail was opened a year ago. And it is dead quiet except for the whine of the electric motors, even though it runs on rails. The wheels are completely silent.

Back in the hotel, I fiddle with the cell settings again, but still no incoming calls or sms's. I finish off some email and decide to head down to the gym. I had promised myself I would make the effort seeing as I had no other chores or responsibilities while away from home.

I do 30min on a treadmill, then some situps and light weights on my arms then decide I've had enough and go and get changed back into jeans for dinner. Which is where I am right now. I've just had a steak pie, chips and side salad, as well as a pint and a half of Murphy's stout (almost like Guinness).

I'll go back up to my room shortly and browse through more work documents for tomorrow before, hopefully, having a good night's sleep. I'm exhausted.

Part 3 to follow...

On Project in Abu Dhabi and Dubai - Part 1

2011-02-22T06:26:00.003-01:00

Well, the folks in the desert finally agreed to start the project, so here I am in Dubai.

I'm booked to be here between yesterday (Monday 21st Feb) and the 8th March, about two weeks. Already, I'm wondering what sort of experience it is going to be, as there doesn't seem to be any urgency just yet. That said, it is early days, so things could change dramatically.

Monday 21st February

Awake at 5am, thinking of the trip. Alarm goes off at 6am, so I get up and make coffee, take a piss, put the dogs out for their morning slash as well, though not quite in that order.

Showered, shaved, and dressed in my best jeans, we head for the airport just before 8am as planned. There's a bit of traffic but we get to the airport just after 9am, with plenty of time to check in.

As I go through passport control, the dumbfuck doos asks me "New passport?". I just look at him and say "You noticed" and smile while going on my way. He probably noticed that there were no multi-coloured stamps on any of the pristine pages...very observant of the public servant. Fuckin' idiot...

Grab an espresso, power up the laptop and get on the phone to TT, at work in the Joburg office to try and calm her nerves about a presentation she has to do on Thursday. It's no rocket science, but it's her first and I think she'll ace it.

On board at 09h45 and he flight is empty, with most folks getting on in Shit Towne which is on our route to the desert. One of the hostesses looks like Fishman's Model Sister. The guy on the opposite side of the aisle form me strikes up a conversation with her and determines she's from Egypt. He's about 60 in the shade...dirty old barstud...down boy...

There's plenty of leg room in my row, number 19, as it is one of those emergency aisles over the wing. Sweet, I can stretch out and trip folks as they walk past. The check in crew were good enough to tell me that there was to be a family with kids next to my original seat and they moved me to this great place. Thanks, folks. The crew of Etihad airways are the friendliest bunch I've ever seen on my travels.

The flight to Joburg is over in 1.5hrs, a full 30mins ahead of schedule. Why can't all flights between those cities be cut by that time? It is very bumpy coming into Joburg - big holes in the clouds and we drop what feels like hundreds of feet (and probably was seeing as we're in a thousand ton pterodactyl) and some female passenger screams softly a couple of times. The Egyptian hostess chuckles to herself.

There was a decent lamb wrap for breakfast, followed by a hot cup of tea. Nice.

We must have had a novice pilot coming into Joburg, cos I shit you not when I say he bounced the bird THREE TIMES before keeping it on the ground, then he skews it off to the left and jams the engines into reverse to bring it under control. That's the worst thing about these onboard cameras - you can see every fuckup the flight crew make, in real time!

I check my sms's and email, but there's nothing important happened in the last couple of hours. We have a 1.5hr wait while the other passengers and baggage are loaded. I switch off the laptop and on the MP3 player - Deep Purple "Speed King" is the first track I hear...great stuff.

A new crew takes over as the CPT-leg crew actually flew down the previous night from JNB, stayed over in CPT, then flew out first thing on the Abu Dhabi-bound flight. Nice job if you can get it, I suppose.

Somebody nearby smells of stale sweat, must be the German guy in row 18. The smell started when he moved in from row 15 - maybe he was asked to move by the people sitting around him. There are plenty of open seats as the plane is nowhere near full by the time we're ready to lift off again.

The new crew hands out more sets of earplugs - no thanks, I already have a set, as you can see by the things sticking out of my ears. Here's your sign...

The doors close and there's still no-one sitting next to me - kewl. More room to stretch out. Strange, because online checkin showed that the plane was nearly full and I couldn't change my seat. Do we really have that many people that don't pitch up for their flights? The doors close at 13h40.

Somehow, though, we only manage to take off at something like 14h15 after sitting out on the tarmac for a while, waiting for other craft to bounce their landings.

Around 3h30 later, I'm penning this story into my journal, cos I'm bored of flipping through channels on a clearly-inferior entertainment system. I think Wreckless should go and sell them a new onboard mainframe or something.

There are some great movies on offer (Inception, Avatar special edition) and great UK comedy but the system has a lip-sync problem. It's so bad it's like audio-visual deja vu. You've heard the cracks, but then the comedians mouth catches up seconds later and, as you read his lips, you think "I've heard this before".

Dinner has come and gone. A terrible little lettuce salad and nice chicken tikka "breast" (the size of a R5 coin) for starters, some decent hake, potatoes and green beans for main course. Then I find the little box on the side, that I thought was apple crumble, actually contained butter for the roll, salad dressing to camouflage the lettuce, a small Gouda cheese block, and salt and pepper. The apple crumble is nowhere to be seen and actually came afterward, with coffee so I skipped it, having eaten enough already.

By that time, I'm also well down my third double Dewars White Label scotch and couldn't care for apple fuckin' crumble so settle on a cappuccino instead.

According to my watch, at this point, it's 17h45 SA time, almost dark outside the plane, the lights are turned down low for some to catch some after-dinner sleep. I'm listening to 30 Seconds to Mars "From Yesterday". Bit of a screamer, but good solid rock song.

I have two Germans sitting next to me, browsing a "Kaapstadt" travel book and I'm tempted to tell them we're going the wrong way and they should have read that book before getting on the flight, but I leave them to plan their trip.

Now it's Deep Purple "Burn" on the MP3 player...

The MP3 player is a trusty little gadget I bought on my first trip to Saudi Desertland three years ago. It also doubles up as a USB memory stick.

Flying over southern Sudan at 864km/h, still 3,199km to go...another 4hrs....groan...

Oh good, there's only 2,455km to Mecca, like I needed to know that, just off the port side of the nose of the plane.

The entertainment system has a section called Elements which is supposed to show all the duty free stuff, but aside from rules and regulations and how much alcohol and tobacco I'm allowed to take into whatever country, all it shows is a menu of items (jewellery, fragrances, watches, etc) all the sections show blank screens and "page 1 of 0"...DOH!!

I've been awake for 13hrs already so I'm going to catch a couple of hours sleep if possible. I put the MP3 player off after Status Quo's "You're in the army now"...

Tuesday 22nd February

We land at just before midnight, desert time, and it's about 25degC, nice and cool. The bus trip to the terminal is uneventful, if long, which is typical of these desert airports. Everything is miles away from everything else. Thank fuck we don't have to walk.

Customs is a breeze, thanks to my UK passport, and I pick up my suitcase and head for the bus terminus. There's a complimentary shuttle to the hotel which is just as well as my hotel is in Dubai, while I flew into Abu Dhabi, 120km apart. The bus is a luxury coach, aircon, complimentary bottle of water and a peppermint included.

The journey is about an hour long and the highways are in great condition. The SA roads guys can take a leaf out of these guys' books for road construction. The roads here take a pounding from the heat, yet do not melt, unlike ours that actually wash away with a thunderstorm.

As it's night, there are no opportunities for photos (perhaps on purpose by the authorities?) and the camera stays in its case for future reference.

By the time I get a taxi to the airport, checked in, unpacked and ready for bed, it's after 03h30 and I'm exhausted. Still, I set the alarm for 07h00 to see what the plan is for the day.

As it happens, I get told to get some more rest and go into the office later today. I can handle that, but instead I go down for some breakfast and do some email and blogging up to this point. It's now 12h16 local time and I'm about to head out, I think. After all, these guys are paying for my time...

Look out for Part 2 sometime soon...

Corporate Rip-off Artists...

2011-02-16T06:11:00.007-01:00

...make me sick, the whole bunch of them.

We, the general public, continue to get stripped of our hard-earned cash and savings, just so that these corporate fat-cats can continue to get their obscene bonuses at the end of their financial year. It was reported on Sky News the other day that the Barclays CEO was reputed to get a GBP9 million bonus.

Point in question...take Barclays Bank UK, who have just posted a pre-tax profit of GBP5.5 BILLION!!! It doesn't matter how you look at it, pre- or post-tax, it is ridiculous! In layman's terms that equates to over GBP458 million profit PER MONTH, or over GBP15 million PER DAY, or over GBP636,000 PER HOUR. Incidentally, this is about ten times what that overpaid, over-idolised wanker David Beckham makes per hour and, quite frankly, neither of them deserve it.

The fact of the matter is...the man in the street is getting ripped off for the benefit of a few shareholders of a particular company, in this case, Barclays Bank, and those are the only people that are benefiting from it. The rich get richer, the poor get ripped off more and more.

And Barclays is not the only corporation doing this, they just happen to be the one exposed to public scrutiny at the moment. I happen to work for a nameless corporation who do exactly the same thing and yet, year after year throughout the financial year, we get told we are performing great, things are looking up, getting better, the share price goes higher and higher. But woe and betide, at the end of the year we are told how we need to drive profits higher, that we haven't performed well at all, and we all need to suck it up and take a 0% increase while our executives get fat bonuses just because they are "in the driving seat" and deserve it. Do me a favour...fuck off!

Dear Mr Corporate-Fat-Fuckin'-Cat, guess what? My expenses DO go up every year in line with the unrealistic increases levied by other corporations, banks and government organisations alike with the result that I can no longer even afford a Kulula.com flight to Durban to visit my parents. Further, I get rated as an "under-performer" because I struggle to meet my fuel bill at the end of the month if I go into the office more than twice a week so I choose to personally suck up the R700 a month that "Hell-kom" rip me off for my ADSL line (because there is no 3G connectivity in my area so I can't use my corporate 3G card), which is still cheaper than the fuel would have cost me. And why? Because the corporation panders to its fat-fuckin'-cat shareholders demands for higher dividends. Fuck your shareholders, I'm an employee who you should be looking after. There will always be shareholders, but there will not always be someone with my skills or experience generating your profits. (this will be the subject of another rant very soon)

I digress, back to topic...

Did BP executives quiver in their Gucci shoes when they were penalised billions by the USA for the Gulf Oil Spill fiasco? No, they didn't. Why? Because their profits STILL EXCEEDED the fine!! The shareholders probably breathed a sigh of relief when that one was announced to the poor. So this year they get a reduced dividend on their shares...so what? They still have an operating corporation and the poor will get ripped off sufficiently in the coming year to make up for that "lost" dividend and probably more on top of that too.

Has Chevron made any revelationary utterances since the news came out that they were found guilty of polluting the Amazon River over years of drilling operations? Hardly a fuckin' word. Yet their fuels will still reach the forecourts of petrol stations around the world and the poor will continue to get ripped off at the demands of their shareholders. No doubt Chevron's profits last year (reputed to be GBP12 BILLION) will pay for the fine imposed on them, so we won't be hearing from them anytime soon, I bet. I see they have "disputed" the fine imposed upon them, but in all eventuality, the fine will probably be reduced to GBP5 BILLION and the corporation will claim a moral victory to the shareholders. They are claiming that it was Texaco that caused the damage, before they were bought out (maybe why, seeing as the lawsuit was filed 17 years ago?) by Chevron, so the fine in "un-enforceable".

Typically, what do corporations do in answer to the reports of high bonuses and profits? Nothing, nada, fokol, fuck all...except to shut right up. Say nothing, then the problem will go away. Just as most corporations do when they are taken to task publicly for things that should not, by law, be allowed to happen.

I believe corporations should be called to account to the general public (fuck the shareholders) for the obscene profits they generate and explain how and why they ripped the public off. Then they should be forced, by law, to rebate most of those profits back to the general public through tax rebates or some such mechanism. So long as a corporation makes even 1c profit, it is a successful company, yet governments (and the public) allow corporations to continue fleecing the public to the most ridiculous amounts.

Take another SA corporation...Vodacom. I know Wreckless has a bug up his ass about this lot, and so he should. Three years ago, they reported a profit of ZAR4.3 BILLION!!! I don't know what their recent profits were, but I can only imagine they must be higher than this. How can they justify the rates they are charging people for their calls and/or text messages? So much for cell phones being the way to take communications to the masses. In the end, it turned out to be just another way to rip the poor off.

The sad part of it all is that governments are encouraging these rip-offs, as can be read in this Sky News article.

And what happens in the world of high finance to "assist" the poor to try and make ends meet? The banks push up their rates, as appears to be the call to the Bank of England in this article. This, in turn, will cause the other banks (Barclays included) to push up their rates and guess who gets it in the neck again because all the other corporations push up their rates to cover the cost of lending money from the banks? Yup, you guessed it, the poor-ripped-off-man-in-the-street....again!

Anyone with half a brain can see that the world economy is driven by one thing and one thing only. Ok, two things, the second of which is sex, but that's another story. It's not demand for money, overindulgence by spenders, profits from investments (and shareholders demands), loans to the poor, food prices, or just about any of the other reasons that are given by corporations and governments the world over.

No...the world economy is driven by THE FUEL PRICE! Let your half a brain wander for a bit of a think. EVERYTHING we have in this fucked up world is driven by the cost of getting from Point A to Point Z, sometimes via B, C and D as well if you are driving a government/taxpayer-sponsored vehicle. Grocery prices go up because delivery trucks drink diesel and goods need to be delivered from depots to store shelves. Bank rates go up because of daily operational costs to move cash around, replenish ATM's, and to refuel fat-cat-executives luxury vehicles. Communications costs go up because of the vehicles they have on the road to fix and service line demands. Even the crude oil we need to make more petrol has to be shipped so it becomes more expensive to transport that crude. Pick something in your life and you will see how the fuel price affects it with a bit of lateral thinking. Even our NSRI fuel costs go up because of price hikes, which in turn causes our corporate sponsors to have to increase their charges to clients because their sponsorships of this vital service are costing them more.

This is up for debate, actually no, it's not...just have a think about it. Man is his own worst enemy. He fucks up everything he comes in contact with, eventually. And that includes his own species.

Things that make you go "Hmmmmm"...

2011-01-21T06:09:00.002-01:00

This year we will experience 4 unusual dates.... 1/1/11, 1/11/11, 11/1/11, 11/11/11 ...

NOW go figure this out.... take the last 2 digits of the year you were born plus the age you will be this year and it WILL EQUAL TO 111!...

Things That Make You Go "Hmmmmmm"...

The Year of Tamlyn...

2011-01-04T10:44:00.005-01:00

...that's what 2011 is going to be.

As some of you may know, Tamlyn is my daughter, now twenty-four years young and residing in Glenrothes, Scotland, with her fiance whom I call "Scott-in-Law".

Why is it going to be Tamlyn Year? Because of three main reasons...

Firstly, Tamlyn and Scott-in-Law will be arriving in Cape Town on 3rd April 2011 for a couple of weeks holiday. Woohoo...no more need be said about that, it is going to be great!

Secondly, they will be getting married at Cape Point on the 14th. While everyone thinks Cape Point is the southernmost part of the African continent, alas it is not. That honour falls to Cape Agulhas, just over an hour's drive from Cape Point. It is, however, a far more beautiful part of the tip of Africa than Agulhas is, and a fitting place for the two of them to get married. Alternatively, it is quite the spot to throw Scott-in-Law from if he gets cold feet at the last minute...but I digress...

Thirdly, about a year ago, Tamlyn had a miscarriage and I know it affected her deeply (as it did Scott-in-Law as well, no doubt). When we spoke on Christmas Day 2010, Tamlyn again advised me that she was just over four weeks expectant/pregnant, this time with little "Noodle". She tells me she is feeling much better than last time, healthier, more assured that this time she is going to carry full term. Even better, Noodle is expected to appear either on my birthday, or the day after. How cool would that be if we had the same birth date?

Tamlyn has started up a blog-diary to keep track of events leading up to the birth of Noodle. If you're interested, follow it here.... I, for one, will be reading it regularly and keeping up to date with goings-on...

So, needless to say, the next four months or so are, in some respects going to drag by slowwwwwwly, but in others are going to fly by at the speed of a smelly fart.

I'm really looking forward to them...the end of the four months, that is, not the smelly fart...

That time of year to Reflect?

2010-12-23T08:56:00.003-01:00

If you think it is, go ahead. I've supplied the mirror.

Personally, I am thankful for every day that I am down here in the Cape Town area, not having to withstand/resist the crap that is going on in other parts of the country/world. I have enough issues to deal with, without having to listen to politicians and self-righteous "aid" organisations spouting on about what sort of trouble they/their country/the world is/are in.

However, that said, I will make it known that I am grateful for all the loving family and friends that I have, both locally and around the world. It is you people that make my life worthwhile and I am forever indebted to you all for it.

Love. Always.
Semper Amor.

A blessed, peaceful, safe, loving Christmas and holiday season to you all, with wishes that the best of 2010 is the worst of 2011 to every one of you.

My new dress (kilt)...

2010-12-09T05:29:00.002-01:00

With my daughter coming out from the UK to get married at Slangkop Lighthouse in April 2011, I decided I had better get something to wear.

I've always wanted a full dress kilt and all the bits that go along with it, so I placed an order on an online website which was very helpful (and reasonably cheap too). If you're ever in need of a kilt, check them out here...

So, the outfit includes:

* Argyll jacket & vest
* Dress shirt & bow tie
* 5 yard 16oz handmade wool kilt (in Douglas Modern tartan)
* Dressed sporran & chains
* Belt & buckle
* Socks
* Matching flashes (in Douglas Modern tartan)
* Ghillie brogues (shoes)
* Sgian dubh (dagger - not real these days)
* Kilt pin (little metal dagger thingy)

Och aye the noo, gonna look "stylin" in that lot, ye ken...

Have new camera gadget...

2010-12-08T08:35:00.002-01:00

...but has anyone got some batteries for me?

I picked up my new YN468 Speedlite from the SARS Customs Office, which I ordered some three weeks ago via eBay.

I'm surprised as all hell that it arrived as I've had items disappear on at least one previous occasion, which did not leave me with a warm snuzzy feeling that the flash was going to arrive, particularly as I had ordered it so long ago.

Anyway, it is here, but I am in the office without access to my camera and some batteries for the flash...

I guess I'll just have to wait for a couple of hours...

More Photos...

2010-11-09T14:48:00.004-01:00

Had another session with the camera-guru today. He took me around the local township, Masiphumelele (don't know what it means) to shoot (pictures of) some of the locals.

He has a bigger set of kahunas than me, asking all and sundry whether they minded him taking their photo. I like to think of it as a bit of an invasion of privacy, but mostly focussed (no pun intended) on the graffiti. My baby gave me the idea from one of her photos and I thought it would be good as a theme and totally non-intrusive.

Some of the kids, though, didn't mind and were very willing to show off for the camera.

The above place is actually run by a Rasta dude. Why he has the Cross of David as a symbol on the ad, only he will know.

"Ummm...I'll have Option 3, please"...

Some of my Photos...

2010-11-02T10:39:00.009-01:00

I'm taking some photography lessons, really around the composition of images, following my purchase of a Canon 450D. My "tutor" is an ex-photographer for a local magazine, but is still a fulltime professional photog.

Here are some of my shots so far. They are all low resolution here so that they will upload to the blogosphere quicker...

All photos here are copyrighted to ME! If I find anyone using them without my written permission (in triplicate on carbonised paper and posted via surface mail) I will hunt you down and embarrass you in front of your friends and family by tarring and feathering your genitals with molasses and letting the African Killer Bees bees have their way with you.

Kulula dot Fuckin' (in)Com(petent)...

2010-11-02T09:02:00.004-01:00

I hate Kulula.fuckin'com...period...

Until yesterday, they were my choice of cheapy-airlines. Now, they can go to hell. I'll fly into Joburg International and have a choice of carriers from now on.

I was out of bed on Monday morning, of all days, at 4am to catch the 6am red-eye to Shit Towne for a day of business with a client and my good friend, Wreckless.

I landed at just on 08h00, but thanks to the morning Shit Towne traffic, I get to the client facility at a little before 09h30. Things are not going too swimmingly and I reiterate to myself why we left that horrible fuckin' place in the first place.

Anyway...we have a session with the client and a cup of mediocre coffee, then retire to our allocated office for a bit of work. We have a proposal to develop and get to them by Friday...do-able, I think.

I was advised to leave the centre of Shit Towne at a little before 3pm to make the flight in time, so I do exactly that. Later I would ask myself why the hell I did. Hindsight is 20/20 vision, and all that.

Another good mate, Fishman, texts me to ask "where are we drinking?" and I tell him I have to fly out that afternoon and can he meet me at the airport to have a quick drink and catch up on some of the news.

Literally five minutes from the airport, Fishman texts me again and asks where I am. He's already in the airport. The man is thirsty for a Monday.

Almost at the same time, I get a text on my phone, "Hi, from Kulula.com. Apologies, your flight for today has been delayed, new estimated time of departure is @18h30..."

Mumbling a little, I think, "Ok, not too bad, another hour or so to drink with Fishman" and continue on to the airport bar.

As we get down to the end of our second beer, I get another text, "Hi, from Kulula.com. Your flight has been further delayed to @20h25...". This time, no apologies....hmmmm....

"Ah fuck!", I think to myself. Fishman has to leave cos it's his government's girls night out and he has to babysit, so I'm left on my own. I order a munchies basket and another Capn's Organ and Coke Light, figuring I may as well get comfortable for a while as it's only just gone 17h30 and I have another three fuckin' hours to kill.

I potter about a bit on the internet, do some more email, and then with an hour to go, move down to the departure lounge figuring I'm going to be one of the first to claim my seat on that fuckin' plane.

At 20h00, there's an announcement, barely audible, that "Kulula.com is pleased to announce that flight {mumble mumble} is boarding for Cape Town", so myself and a hundred other hopefuls make a dash for the queue. Then we hear that there is another Cape Town flight, which was supposed to have left three hours after us, is actually going to leave an hour before us!! WTF!!!!

We all sit down again, pick up another section of discarded newspaper (the business section of all things) and grind our teeth through another hour of waiting.

At 20h30, the announcement finally comes over the PA system, or at least we think it's for us. It has to be, as there is barely enough people left in the room to fill half a Cessna so it's unlikely that there is another flight out of Lanseria tonight. We all get into the queue again and watch the rain and lightning outside on the tarmac. A typical summer Shit Towne storm had come through in the last hour or so and I was fully believing that Kulula.fuckin'com would use that as an excuse to delay us even more.

Not so. We get checked through then herded onto the sopping runway, with no umbrellas, to make our own way to the aircraft about 100m away. We get there quite wet, only to find a whole basket load of umbrellas standing in the rain waiting to be used. Thanks, Kulula.fuckin'com....thanks for nothing.

As mentioned, there was not even half an airplane full of people on the flight, when we eventually left the runway at 21h12 exactly. Actually, it made for a very comfortable flight, as I had a whole emergency aisle row to myself, extra leg room and space to stretch.

We landed in Cape Town at just before 11pm and you could hear a collective sigh of relief when the doors opened and spewed us out onto the windy tarmac. I still had almost an hour to go for the drive home and I pulled into the driveway at 23h50, having been awake for almost 20 hours.

And Kulula.fuckin'com's excuse for the delay? "Technical problems". Ha...yeah, fuckin' right. I'm no dummy, next time tell me what the fuckin' problem was, then I might be a little more understanding and accepting of your excuse, you miserable bunch of twats...

On top of it all, there was no mention of some sort of rebate on the flight price, no voucher for a freebie flight for the inconvenience, not even a free drink or sandwich on the plane.

Fuck them...next time, I fly Mango or some other carrier...

RIP, Duke...

2010-10-26T07:47:00.003-01:00

It was with much sadness and heavy-heartedness that Steph made one of the most difficult decisions of her life yesterday.

We discovered that Duke, our brown Doberman, had a distended stomach and was battling to pass anything out, was in general discomfort and very restless.

With that, Steph took him to the vet and, after an X-ray and an explanation of the problem from the vet, she made the decision to have him put to rest. When Steph arrived back from the vet, I noticed Duke wasn't in the car and thought the vet had kept the dog in for observation. But then she gave me the sad news.

Duke had been suffering from a heart problem for just under a year and the vet was surprised that he'd lasted this long with it. He advised her that there was a chance that an operation would sort out the stomach problem, though it may occur again sometime in the future, but also that Duke may not survive the operation because of his heart condition.

It took a brave decision on her part to ask the vet to put him to rest and put him out of the misery he had been enduring for the past few months. I do not envy her having to make that decision.

She told me she waited with Duke as he closed his eyes, to pass on to the wide open beach in the sky, to run and chase birds to his heart's content.

His pain is no more, which is a blessing. Duke was Steph's "shadow" and as much he and I butted heads on authority stuff, I will miss him too.

Duke was about eight years old and we raised him from when he was just eight weeks. He was the largest in a litter of eight pups and his grandmother was a world champion in her class. He has a name the length of my arm, but was christened Duke by Steph.

We will have a solemn little ceremony for him on our local beach in a few days when the vet gets his ashes to us.

RIP, boy...go chase that seagull...

My latest fishing catch...

2010-09-25T12:48:00.006-01:00

Finally, I have something I want to write about....

I went down to the False Bay side on Friday afternoon, not expecting much because the wind had picked up a bit, but here's what happened....

Species: Bronze Whaler Shark
Location: Somewhere along Baden Powell (which came to a standstill with all the onlookers)
Rod: L&F Custom Built rod with Torium50 (heavy tip)
Line: Kingfisher Giant Abrasion line 0.55mm
Leader: 1mm leader
Terminal tackle: 16/0 Circle hook
Bait: Yellowtail head (was in the water for 3hrs)
Fight time: 1hr 10mins
Water Temp: 14degC at start of session
Gender: Female
Tagged and released (ORI tag A138940)

Pre-caudal length: 225cm
SA Shore Angling Association weight table estimate: 163.2kg

The tale: I had been at the water for just over 3hrs, having put out the slide at 12h50pm. I was just about to cast my second rod for the umpteenth time, hoping for a kob, when I heard a drag scream. Initially I thought someone was phoning me as I have that sound as a ringtone for all my fishing mates. Then I saw my first rod bending, line peeling off straight out to sea. I couldn't believe it, as I was about to bring that rod in after I had cast the other one and put it in the rod stand.

The shark headed straight out, and took about 300m of line on its first run, followed by another 100m or so on its second. That's when I discovered I have 0.45mm line as backing, which I'd forgotten about. Luckily, she did not take me into it, but almost did so four times.

After ten minutes, I was kneeling down on the sand, tiring already (hey, I've got an old body, gimme a break) and my arms were starting to burn. After 30mins Sparky arrived at the beach with Dean and Mrs Sparky (all regular fishing pals). By this time, there was a gallery forming and traffic was getting heavy with all the cars stopping at the side of the road. Not that I saw much of it at the time. At the end of the fight though, traffic had come to a standstill behind us...I kid you not. The entire beach rod had come to a standstill with people getting out of their cars to come and have a look at the shark. I felt like a porn star...I was fucked...

At the 45min mark, I was ready to hand over the rod to Sparky (I actually did ask him to take over but he declined) as my elbows were cramping big time. To alleviate the cramps I had started straight-sticking the fish just so that I could use the drag to its fullest extent and relax my arms a bit. Around then, something strange happened to the reel and I couldn't wind forward or pull any out on the drag, so I let the catch off and ended up with a small overwind. Mrs Sparky had to put her slim fingers into the line and get the small tangle out, which came out easily enough. I was just trying to keep pressure on the shark so that the hook didn't pull loose.

At around the 50min mark, I saw the shark for the first time. Up until that point, I was not sure what species I had hooked, but now I could see the familiar bronzie fins. She still ran left and right, parallel to the beach, in the gutter for another 20mins before I managed, with the help of Dean and another bystander, to bring her in on a set of waves. There hadn't been too much chance of losing her as the barbless circle hook had caught the corner of her mouth exactly as it was supposed to do.

There was a whole crowd of possibly 30 people standing around to see and take pictures of this beautiful beast. A couple of guys even ran down to the shark, touched her, and then ran away again...probably just to say they had touched a shark. There were more people standing next to their cars and some people had had to stop because the traffic in front of them was blocked.

Satisfied that she was high enough out of the water to not get dragged back, I left Mrs Sparky with my rod and ran back to the bakkie, about 100m away, to get my tagging kit and the hook remover. Hook out and tag in, Sparky took a couple of final photos and Dean, the same bystander and myself manhandled the big girl back into the surf. We didn't have to wait long, literally the first wave that came over her, had her turning back for deep water and she kicked off strongly.

The photo of me next to the shark does not do her size justice, I think. She was solid, wide, and in perfect condition for a shark this early in the season.

A good day out, and my arms are still sore at the elbows....

About 40mins into the fight. I was cramping already and this fish wasn't even looking like tiring.
After 1h10mins, this beauty was on the beach. She was measured from the tip of her nose, to the start of her tail at the "pre-caudal notch".
The business end of the shark...
Dean, getting a little close to the sharp end...
Me, stoked at having landed my first bronzie ever. Check out the traffic at a standstill in the background...
Measured, tagged and released, off to fight another day...

What to write...

2010-08-03T13:09:00.003-01:00

I just don't know. I have no topic that comes to mind and nothing that I particularly want to vent about at the moment, other than some work stuff of course. But those will keep for another day...

With that in mind...leave a message after the beep. I'm still around...

Just for the hell of it...

2010-07-15T13:48:00.002-01:00

...and to show I'm still around, I changed the cosmetics of my blog. I like it...

The water drops sort of show the current Cape weather as well...

This video should be played on TV channels worldwide...

2010-07-14T05:36:00.002-01:00

It's sad, terrifying at times, and is a stark reminder that people do stupid things behind the steering wheel of a vehicle. Some of it is staged, but some of it is very real...

http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1388779851607

My Fishing Luck Continues...

2010-06-25T07:04:00.003-01:00

Went out to a local spot last night with the usual crowd, expecting to hook into a sizeable stingray or another cow shark.

Although that didn't happen, at 22h00 my reel screamed in protest at the fish pulling the end of the line out at a rate of knots. As it is not the season for bronze whaler sharks and I knew that a ray would not be peeling line off at that speed, I was wondering what the hell was causing my reel such distress (and me such pleasure).

The fish must have taken about 50m of line before I managed to turn its head, and it was strong in its fight, so I was really clueless as to what it might be, but first thoughts were that it might be a small "sharp-nosed bronzie", the local term for a Great White Shark. GW's are not spoken of by their real names in angling circles due to the sensitivity of the survival of the species, so another term is used which most anglers recognise.

As I had managed to turn the fish relatively quickly, I immediately realised that it was not a sharp-nose, and the intrigue began again.

After about ten minutes or so, and after a couple of solid runs, I saw the fish floundering in the shallows and managed, with the aid of the leader Line and a wave, to bring it up the beach.

At first sight, it looked like a Ragged Tooth shark, but then I saw the gray colouring and the spots on its body. It was a Black Spotted Smoothound Shark, another first for me.

I didn't bother weighing or tagging the fish as I do not believe these species are tagged for research. After a couple of photos by Mrs Sparky, I lifted the fish and estimated the weight to be between 10 and 15 kilograms, then returned her to the water.

Then I went and had another slurp of Old Brown Sherry...

Been fishing again...

2010-06-24T10:02:00.002-01:00

Went out fishing last Tuesday night, and again this week, up to the Strand area (Gordons Bay side). There were reports of large Spearnose Rays and Broadnose Seven Gill Sharks (also known as Cows) coming out and I wanted to see if I could get me one of them.

All that came out on both nights were fish that I caught. :-)

Last Tuesday I got a large Striped Pyjama Shark...here's its photo...it's probably the largest of its kind that I've seen.

Ugly little bugger and a real pest as they have no natural predators.

Last night I lost a small Spearnose in the breakers and then at 10pm felt the pull of a Cow Shark that I'd been told how to recognise. It picks up your bait, then drops it and it makes it feel like it's coming toward you as you feel the tug and then the line goes slack. It does this a few times and when it's ready to eat, takes the bait and moves away slowly, which is when you tighten up and strike. I was using circle hooks so I didn't strike until I knew he was hooked. The disappointing thing about the Cow is that they don't really fight and feel mostly like a big plastic bag on the end of your line. Ah well, at least I got one of my target species for the winter so far... :-)

You can't see it, but I tagged the Cow before I released her.

The Cow measured 131cm pre-caudal length, which, according to the weight tables, weighs in at 29.1kg.....not bad for a first. "Pre-caudal length" is the length from the tip of the nose to the caudal notch at the start of the tail fin, not to the end of the tail. I also measured full length and it came in at 189cm but the weight estimate would have been wrong as it definately wasn't 98kgs....

Go with God, Nana Douglas...

2010-06-05T03:33:00.004-01:00

It felt like the middle of the night when the home phone rang, so I left it to go to voicemail.

Steph had heard it too, as did one of the dogs who stirred, thinking it was one of us coming home. We have a "code" between us in that when one of us is at home, the other lets the home phone ring a couple of times then hangs up, so that the one at home knows to open the garage door to drive in easily rather than having to go through the rigmarole of opening the door by yourself.

As it turns out, it was just after 6am when the phone had rang, but the sun only comes up around 8am in Cape Town in winter, the reason I thought it was still the wee hours. Anyway...

After letting the dogs out, Steph came back through to the bedroom and touched my shoulder gently. It was your sister, she said. Then more softly, your gran passed away last night.

Strangely enough, that was the second thought that had come immediately to mind. No-one calls in the middle of the night, unless it's a prankster, or bad news.

Nana, as she was affectionately known to the family, had had an aneurysm in her stomach and been rushed to hospital sometime last night. Apparently the doctor had said that she could be operated on, but due to her age may not come out of the anesthetic. My aunt Christine, closest to Nana from the family had said that maybe it's not a good idea, to which the doctor said that she should then gather the family around to come and pay last respects then as Nana may only have a couple of hours left.

According to my sister, Nana had a last drink of her favourite tipple, Balvennie single malt scotch, was given some morphine for the pain and slipped away quietly in her sleep.

Nana had recently celebrated her 90th birthday and had lived a long, fruitful, colourful life.

Needless to say, following what she had said about not seeing my father (her eldest child) again on this earth, he is pretty upset but, as usual, is putting on a brave face.

-------------------------------------------------------

Go in peace, Nana Douglas. I'm sure there's lots of Balvennie in heaven cos the angels always take their share from the casks and I know they'll share it with you.

Catherine Macdonald Douglas - 15 April 1920 to 4 June 2010

Masters of Rock Concert, Grand West, Cape Town

2010-06-02T07:30:00.009-01:00

There are so many ways I could have started this post:

My Tinnitus has tinnitus this morning
What? Pardon? Speak up please...
Mindblowing, earth-shattering...what the fuck was that noise?
Old fuddie rockers lift the roof
And more...

A good friend of mine went to see the concert in Joburg late last week and the text messages he sent me afterward, as well as his posting about the concert and the song he phoned me to listen to (still don't know what it was, which should have given an indication as to how loud the show was) all prompted me to see if I could get last-minute tickets to the Masters of Rock concert at Grand West Casino, here in Cape Town.

Every bit of my body (except my ears) are ecstatic that I managed to get some...

Wishbone Ash, Uriah Heep and Deep Purple, all legendary 70's (and currently active) rock bands performed some of their smash hits to an audience that, beforehand, looked like it would be better off at a Celine Dion concert. I estimate the average age of the crowd must have been in the early 40's, even though a small percentage must have been early 20's. There were people who have not been alive for as long as these bands have been playing.

Wishbone Ash are relatively unknown in SA, but by the third song had the audience woohoo-ing and yelling at the brightly-lit stage. With 27 albums and EP's (!!!!!!) to their name, these guys are seriously hard rockers and there are going to be a whole load of downloads of their tunes today following what we heard last night.

Their piece-du-resistance was a 1978 song called Way of the World, which they kept blasting out for somewhere around 15 minutes! An absolute masterpiece of guitar and drums...no computers...unadulterated, mind-fuck rock!! It's a song I will never forget, ever.

Their latest offering, Reason to Believe, was also played and, while a great rock song in itself, was nowhere near as hard-hitting as the rest of the playlist which included Phoenix off their first album in 1970, another phenomenal track.

Go get some of these guys...you will not be sorry!

Next up, Uriah Heep.

These old-timers waltzed cockily onto the stage, took up instruments and let rip with over an hour of harmony, synchronised noise, heart-wrenching drums and piercing vocals, but about three songs into the repertoire, you could see the crowd thinking to itself "Who the fuck are these guys?" A large portion of the crowd didn't know the really old stuff from the Heep, but the fourth track struck a chord and sent everyone wild: Free Me.

After that, it was just loud and wild. These guys blasted the roof off the arena. By the end of their playlist, the crowd was baying for more and Bernie Shaw on vocals obliged as the band took an ovation.

Mick Box on lead guitar was simply masterful and he is, as the saying goes, growing old disgracefully. His fretwork was absolutely amazing as, at times, he played one-handed while waving the other hand in the air in side to side motions.

Russel Gilbrook on drums was loud, very, very loud. The subwoofers on the stage took a serious beating at his hands and on many occasions you could feel the vibration shaking your innards.

Needless to say, the clapping and howling went on for a little while after they left the stage.

After another twenty minute break for instrument changes, the headline act took to the stage to a tumultuous welcome from the amped-up audience, now expecting not just great stuff, but based on the Heep performance, expecting a phenomenal finale to a great evening of rock.

Much to their disappointment, I might add...at least, I was seriously disappointed.

I was first introduced to Deep Purple by my dad, way back in the early 1970's and they have remained a favourite since. They are absolute legends, having been around since 1968 when I was just a kid (that's a fuckin' long time ago). Their most famous hit, Smoke on the Water, is THE rock anthem of all time.

Nevertheless, I was disappointed by the vocals from Ian Gillan. His voice, after years of belting it into a microphone, I am sad to say, is buggered. Most of the time, you could not hear him over the instruments and a lot of the time he was just screaming his words to be heard.

Don Airey, on keyboards, was masterful. His solos were phenomenal and there is not another band, nor will there ever be one in future, that will use keyboards the same way as Purple still do.

Steve Morse, on lead guitar, is the youngest of the band members and only joined Purple in 1994. As brilliant a guitarist as he is, and his rendition of songs written before he joined was brilliant, I still say Ritchie Blackmore was the better of the two for Purple. Ah well, that's all history.

Ian Paice on drums was outstanding. His beats were perfectly tuned into the rest of the band and he kept them, and the crowd, in perfect time with each other.

As soon as Smoke on the Water was played, you knew this was the end of their time on stage. Just being there to hear that song, played live, was worth every cent of the price paid for the tickets. The majority of people cannot say they've heard it, but I have, and it's a great feeling. I can already hear myself telling someone in the future "Remember Deep Purple? I saw them play Smoke on the Water, live in Cape Town. Beat that if you can."

The ovation song was Black Knight, another favourite of mine and, again, Airey's keyboards were brilliant.

This was a shot of the crowd in front of us between the Heep and Purple sets. The anticipation of what was coming was electric, but a sad disappointment overall compared to the Heep session.

The buzz of the crowd, all the way out the door of the casino resort, left me knowing that there was not one in the audience that didn't have an absolute blast. Listening and talking to people, the undeniable winner on the night was Uriah Heep.

The Joburg show ran for approximately four hours, but our show started at 19h10 and ended at 23h50, almost four and a half hours long!

Wreckless...thanks again for the recommendation to go, man. Without that, my life would be a tad less lived. Now I know what your epiphany was all about.

Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park Safari - Episode 5 - final

2010-05-27T12:39:00.004-01:00

At the loo stop, I am looking through the binoculars for cheetahs on the flat, dry, riverbed but stumble upon another Cape Cobra hunting in the same fashion as the one before, except that this one is in a dead tree lying horizontal on the ground. It’s longer than the first one and must be over 2m in length. I take some shaky video and we see a young Martial Eagle in a tree about 50m away from the snake, looking about, and we hope it takes a dive at the snake as they are a regular meal for these raptors. Instead, the eagle flies directly over the snake and carries on gaining height, eventually disappearing from view.

Back into the vehicles, suitably relieved, we find a group of vehicles, occupants staring up into a large tree and I get a sighting of a Giant Eagle Owl, the one item I really wanted to see on our visit to the Park. As it happens, it’s the last animal of interest we see on the entire trip and those of us who had wanted to see something in particular, except for a lion kill, have all seen our choices.

We had forgotten about the extra distance the forced detour to Twee Rivieren would add to our trip out of the reserve and had to put our feet down when our distance suddenly doubled. Thankfully, we make it out of the gate before closing time at 6pm and proceed to set up camp, picking a site where we would get all three tents up in the same area so that we could socialise on our last night together in the Park.

Attie and I don’t think Johan will make it out by 6pm but are shocked to see him pull up with about ten minutes to spare. At times, they must have had to travel at up to 80km/h to make the cut-off time and they are lucky there are no speed traps in the Park, and didn’t hit any animals either.

The evening isn’t as cold as previous nights had been in Twee Rivieren, but maybe that had something to do with the Captain Morgan and Coke I was putting away like juice. The only two evenings I’ve had anything more than two drinks (except for Polentswa in the rain) are both nights in Twee Rivieren. The camp is outside of the reserve so you don’t have animals you need to keep in mind or worry about whether they might drag you from your tent if you’ve passed out and forgotten to zip up the door. I always wanted to be aware of my surroundings and too many drinks would have taken that away.

We build a fire fro ma bag of wood that Rea had bought earlier and we manage to keep it going for a few hours. I sit up to watch it to its last few embers and to finish my drink, then head to the sleeping bag at about 22h30, having seen some amazing star patterns in the black night, moonless for the past week.

We all sleep until 07h30, or thereabouts, and make a big pot of coffee to warm our hands in the cool morning air as the temperature had dropped overnight and there had been a heavy dew fall. All our tents were wet between the tent and covering flysheet and we had to let them dry out in the sunrays before packing them away for the very last time on the trip.

Johan’s trio left a half hour ahead of us, once all the drivers had filled diesel tanks and pumped tyres back to normal running pressures, as they wanted to visit a lodge a little way down the road home.

After getting our final park checkout signature and stamp, we hit the road to Upington, a boring 226km away.

We were about halfway to Upington when a familiar vehicle shape pulled up behind, then overtook, us. It was Johan, whose visit had run a little longer than planned and he was trying to make up some time, pushing the Pajero on the tarmac. As expected, Anna had her video camera in hand and filmed us as they passed, waving furiously. That was the last time we saw them on the road and I hope their trip ended safely.

We stopped in Keimoes for some more biltong, the butchery located at a strange place, next to a funeral parlour. Some questions are better not asked…

We then headed for Brandvlei, where we were going to rent a chalet for the night instead of camping, but when we got there and filled the fuel tanks, decided we didn’t want to spend the night there and moved on to Calvinia, still an hour and a half away.

We arrived there just before dark, saw the name of a Bed & Breakfast (“Rolbos” – Tumbleweed), then drove around a while looking for a place off the main road. After thirty minutes or so, we ended up back at Rolbos as it looked the most homely and secure for our packed vehicles.

Speaking to Joey, the proprietor, or at least listening to her as she did all the talking with us nodding agreement or smiling politely most of the time, she drove us around to a house she was letting two blocks away from the main road. It was perfect for us as we were the only occupants for the night. Joey also recommended a restaurant, Myl250, and when she discovered our vehicles could only carry two people because of the loads, offered us the use of her own bakkie for the evening. Such hospitality is rare these days and you’ll only get it in little towns like this. On top of that, she only wanted payment the following morning, so she trusted us on all levels and didn’t even ask for a phone number or address.

Dinner at Myl250 was very good, with three of us having a burger and Steph having a roast baby chicken. We also had some reasonably tasting, cheap, table wine and a couple of beers to start with.

All told, it worked out to about ZAR150 per person for dinner and drinks, including a double scotch for me and Irish coffees for the rest at the end of the meal. Good value, I thought.

Back at the house, Steph had a scotch with Attie and I, while Rea went to bed to read. Steph then also went to bed and Attie and I sat through another round of scotches before retiring ourselves. Attie had won the coin toss earlier, so they had the only double bed in the house, while Steph and I had single beds to sleep in for our first night in a bed in two weeks. Regardless, it was good to be on a firm mattress instead of an inflatable one (or the ground, for that matter), even if I did wake up and stare at the ceiling, as usual.

Eventually, I took a look at my watch and was stupefied to see that it was already almost 08h00. The blinds had darkened the dawn to such an extent that it looked like it was still much earlier than it was.

We all showered, packed our few things back in the vehicles and Steph and I went to pay Joey while Attie went to the Supa-Quick to have a slow puncture fixed. Amazingly, this was our only vehicle problem in over 3,760km on the trip, over some very good and very, very bad roads. We also had to go back to Myl250 as Steph had left her reading glasses there the night before, which the staff had just found when we phoned to find out if they were open.

“Myl250” is called as such because Calvinia is supposedly 250 miles from any of the other towns around it.

After a springbok pie and strong black coffee for breakfast at The Hantam House, a converted stable by the look of it, Attie’s car was ready and we headed out onto the road again for the last, long, stretch to home.

This last piece of the trip was long and boring, but there was some picturesque scenery to remember, most notably the ocean as we came over Chapman’s Peak, a few kilometres from home. We briefly stopped in at Attie and Rea’s place to say thanks to them (again) for organising and inviting us on the trip of a lifetime.

You could feel the relief in the Mazda-rati as we pulled into our driveway just after 4pm, having been on, and off, the road for a day over two weeks.

While there is a lot we will miss, being back in the city, it is good to be home again and we’re looking forward to our next major adventure, which, we think, may be Namibia next year sometime.

I’ve enjoyed spending time with Attie and Rea, down to earth people in all respects and chatting about technical stuff, vehicles and otherwise, with Attie.

We are both glad to have met three other people we can now call “friend” and will be organising a get-together sometime soon to view the photos and videos. Johan and Mariet may soon be moving to Simonstown, also where Anna lives, to retire so I’m also looking forward to fishing with Johan. Although he prefers boats, he is also a keen angler. I’m sure we’ll have many a get-together in the future.

I also learned a lot about myself in that I took our personal security to heart and didn’t always know what to do in some situations (like the hyena episode) but learned how to handle them safely.

Thanks to Attie, I also learned to handle my 4x4 better and am more confident in its capabilities and my handling of them.

In closing, there are a few thoughts I want to share with whoever reads these ramblings…

Water – it is not to be wasted. When you have very little of it to carry out even the most basic of tasks (washing dishes), you realise how precious it is and that the water saving adverts are not talking crap.

Food – you can survive on a lot less than you would normally eat at home, and still eat sufficiently to not feel hungry afterwards.

Home – the security of a home comes to the fore when you are out camping in a wilderness reserve with very little protection around you. Too bad there are others who still want to take our homes away from us in this day and age.

Time – the old adage that time should not be wasted rings true out in the bush. It should be used wisely and to maximum effect. If you have some time on your hands and know someone who could use some assistance, give them your time. It became apparent how much time the home daily tasks took from us when we were out in the bush surviving the elements.

Lastly…

Hygiene – it’s okay to have a fifteen-second bos-kak instead of a fifteen-minute throne-dump at home as the results are the same, except you don’t come away with pins and needles in your legs in the bush…

I urge everyone to undertake a safari like this, at least once. You will learn more about yourself in two weeks than you think possible...