Oor Hoos...

Some pics of the house we are renting for the first six months of our stay in the Cape...

The garden (what little there is of it)


The front door (look, no burglar guards)


The master bedroom, nice and airy (all bedrooms have these doors leading out into the garden)


The kitchen (the photo belies the actual size)


From the Dining Area looking out the sliding door to the garden


The front of the house, to the carport


The view out the lounge picture window (not pictured is the double garage, behind the guest house, both out of view to the right)

Since I've been in the Cape...

it appears my mates have gone all "responsible" on me.

Wreckless had a good reason for not being with us at Quartz for a few pints last night (Lucky L's prize-giving at school) so it was to be just Fishman, Corner, Jacko and myself sitting out in the "fresh" Shit Towne air getting wasted. Or at least so I thought...

We all pitched up around 5pm, as arranged, with Fishman and Corner already there when I arrived. Jacko arrived a couple of minutes after me. I arrived in SWMSBO's 206cc cabriolet, top down, to the gay jeers and pelvic thrusting motions from Fishman (no, neither of us are gay, the car just attracts weird pelvic thrusts from jeering fishermen).

After pleasantries, I had my third beer of the day having been at a team lunch earlier. Jacko arrived just in time, while I was standing at the bar buying drinks, so I got one for him too. Sitting in the warm, humid, Shit Towne air wasn't all that pleasant as the few weeks I've had in Cape Town has acclimatised me to the cooler air and I was sweating buckets.

It was great to sit and talk shit with the guys again, as it is one way of venting one's frustrations and, being in Joburg, those frustrations build pretty quickly. I couldn't believe the difference in the characters of the people in the different cities. It's as if Cape Town is not even part of South Africa.

We chatted until about 19h30 or so and when I went for a pee, I came back to find Jacko ready to leave, with Fishman and Corner also pleading responsibilities. I finally managed to convince Corner to have an ABF (Absolutely Bloody Final) drink and we threw another Capn's Organ down our throats then headed into the traffic.

On the road back to Buccleuch, the storm that had been brewing over the past couple of hours finally let loose and there was some serious lightning and hard rain that slowed the traffic hooligans down to a scream.

Feeling a little peckish, I stopped in at KFC for a quick Sweet Chilli Wrap and then headed for our ex-neighbour's house where I've been staying for the last couple of nights. We ended up sitting chatting and watching some or other daft TV movie and I was surprised to see that it was after 23h15 when I made my way to the room I was sleeping in.

It's too bad that Wreckless couldn't join us, but I might be back in Shit Towne again next week (still to be confirmed) and I'm sure we'll get together then. And I don't think the others will need another formal invitation to go out for a couple of hours.

Friends are the only thing I miss about Shit Towne and it's always great to see old friends, even if they do have other responsibilities to take care of...

Any ailments you want sorted out?

The doctor is in the house...

Son of a Bitch Fish...

The parish priest went on a fishing trip. On the last day of his trip he hooked a monster fish and proceeded to reel it in. The guide, holding a net, yelled, "Look at the size of that Son of a Bitch!"

"Son, I'm a priest. Your language is uncalled for!"

"No, Father, that's what kind of fish it is - a Son of a Bitch fish!"

"Really? Well then, help me land this Son of a Bitch!"

Once in the boat, they marveled at the size of the monster.

"Father, that's the biggest Son of a Bitch I've ever seen"

"Yes, it is a big Son of a Bitch. What should I do with it?"

"Why, eat it! Of course. You've never tasted anything as good as Son of a Bitch!"

Elated, the priest headed home to the rectory.

While unloading his gear and his prize catch, Sister Mary inquired about his trip.

"Take a look at this big Son of a Bitch I caught!"

Sister Mary gasped and clutched her rosary, "Father!"

"It's OK, Sister. That's what kind of fish it is, a Son of a Bitch fish!"

"Oh, well then, what are you going to do with that big Son of a Bitch?"

Sister Mary informed the priest that the new Bishop was scheduled to visit in a few days and that they should fix the Son of a Bitch for his dinner.

"I'll even clean the Son of a Bitch", she said.

As she was cleaning the huge fish, the Friar walked in. "What are you doing Sister?"
"Father wants me to clean this big Son of a Bitch for the new Bishop's Dinner"

"Sister! I'll clean it if you're so upset! Please watch your language!"

"No, no, no, it's called a Son of a Bitch Fish."

"Really? Well, in that case, I'll fix up a great meal to go with it, and that Son of a Bitch can be the main course! Let me know when you've finished cleaning that Son of a Bitch."

On the night of the new Bishop's visit, everything was perfect. The Friar had prepared an excellent meal. The wine was fine, and the fish was excellent.

The new Bishop said, "This is great fish, where did you get it?"

"I caught that Son of a Bitch!" proclaimed the proud priest.

"And I cleaned the Son of a Bitch!" exclaimed the Sister.

The Friar added, "And I prepared the Son of a Bitch, using a special recipe!"

The new Bishop looked around at each of them. A big smile crept across his face as he said, "You fuckers are my kind of people!".....

Cape Fish 1 - Kosi Fisher 0

I registered on a local website that specialises as a forum for Cape-based fishermen, and a valuable site it is too...full of great information and a good bunch of guys to chat with. "Kosi Fisher" is my forum-name seeing as it is popular to do it this way rather than having your real name bandied about all over the place.

So, on Saturday I drew a blank.

After stopping off at "Misty Cliffs" to see who belonged to the blue bakkie with the Cape Town Fishing website sticker, I made my way along to a spot called "Blakes" where I was going to throw my first line in anger in Cape waters. I noticed that there were a few guys coming off the beach at the AECI pipe and checked what was happening there, but the wind was pumping through and I guess that was the reason for everyone coming off?

Anyway, I headed back to the bakkie and went past Blakes to see that the water was way out and the wind was whipping around there too, so I made my way to Gordons Bay New Harbour wall. The wind wasn't too bad, even though it was straight in the face and the water looked good for some toothy critters, and I put out a nice medium-sized head...2hrs later, I pulled it in to see that some minnows had been having a go at it.

Even hanging about there for another couple of hours, changing baits between chokkka and sardine, I still drew a blank. Then, at about 4pm, the wind picked up and I couldn't even throw a 6oz more than about 50m so I gave up. Probably just as well...as soon as I got into the bakkie, the rain came down and never stopped...

I stopped off at Kalk Bay Harbour on the way home and the guys were hauling in some nice sized chokka on lures...might try that myself sometime and save a few bucks on bait.

Ah well, there's always next weekend...

Trousers, or not, that is the question...

RIP, boet...

I got a call at around 7h30am today, of the saddest kind.

It was David, my ex's new husband, letting me know that my ex-brother-in-law, Chris, had passed away at 10h45pm last night. I had heard last week that he had suddenly been struck down with a virulent form of cancer that had ravaged his body and left him paralysed from the waist down in the last couple of weeks.

Since "V" and I divorced about 8yrs ago, Chris and I kept in touch now and then and got together on occasion for a beer and a laugh. What made this news worse is that Chris and I had gotten together in Shit Towne about just six months ago over a couple of beers and he appeared to be in perfect health. I don't know if he already knew he had the cancer, but he didn't let on and he certainly didn't mention anything. In fact, he was his usual joking, laughing, cycnical old self that I have always known which makes his sudden passing more difficult to comprehend.

Chris always knew life as needing to be lived, and there was never a dull or boring moment in his life. Sure, he made a couple of mistakes along the way, as we all do, but he always bounced back as humans tend to do and got on with living his life the only way he knew how to...at full speed ahead.

Saddest of all is that Chris's father passed away a couple of years ago and now the family has to endure this heartbreak too.

Chris's widow, Belinda, is a lovely lady who, as much as she took Chris's shit in her stride, loves him for who he will be remembered as...himself. Chris also leaves two sons, who were the shining lights in his life.

I can still picture Chris's broad smile and I hope it never fades from my memory.

Take care, boet, and say "Hi" to your dad for me...go well...

There are strange things happening...

on some of the blog comment Word Verifications...

I was on TCD's photo site earlier and the word was "minging". While I didn't quite agree with Blogger's description of her site, it did get me thinking that there have been a few strange words popping up recently.

Once I'd posted that comment (and inserted "minging") the new word came back as "brasts". While this may be an incorrect spelling of a personal favourite part of a woman's anatomy, it would appear that Blogger have got themselves a new programmer with a sense of humour.

I know a couple of other bloggers have had some strange words as well...feel free to send them as comments to this posting...just for a laugh.

My Baby's back on the blog again...

makes her sound like some sort of a junkie, doesn't it?

TCD has started another blog, this time showing her photography talents, and some of her pictures are really good.

Check them out here...

A Weekend of Ups and Downs...

it has been...

Saturday started off as a nice peaceful day until the Scotland vs South Africa rugby match at 16h30pm. You can imagine how confident I was when, as an ardent Scotland supporter, it seemed that we were going to win the game...even the referee thought so as he was giving us much of the possession.

Then you can imagine how much I was shouting at the television set when that same referee gave the game to the Springboks...

The Boyz in Blue gave their all and were, aside from the referee, the better of the two sides on the field and should indeed have won the game. As it was, the 'Boks stole it with a result of 14-10 after the Scots went to sleep in the first twenty minutes of the second half.

Incidentally, living in SA, I support the 'Boks and the other SA national sides (except Banana Banana, who are a totally fucking useless bunch of overpaid prima donnas like their international counterparts) against whomever they are playing. All, except that is, as a born Scotsman, if the 'Boks are playing Scotland I will support the great land of my birth...and I will sing our national anthem "Flower of Scotland" with as much glee as it was written.

My daughter, born in Durban though now living in Glenrothes, Scotland, supports the 'Boks and was at the Murrayfield stadium taking some really good pictures, as shown below. She was "gutted" at half time seeing as her team was losing, but took great glee in sending the photo of the final score in response to my "send me a photo when Scotland wins" text message I sent her with the return message "here's your "winning" score"...thanks for nothing, babe... :-)

Here's some of the photos...


On Sunday, we awoke to a gloriously calm day, hardly a breath of air coming off the ocean, so we decided to go for a walk on the beach with the animals. This time, however, at my insistence we were going to start our walk from Kommetjie beach in the opposite direction to where we normally start our walks.

I found a little parking area right off the beach and piled the dogs out, on their leads. As it was the first time we had walked here, I thought it prudent to reign them in for a little while first.

The area onto the beach is quite rocky and a bunch of the local "subsistence" fishermen were launching their boats from the slipway. We walked in a northerly direction, towards Longbeach where we normally walk and let the dogs loose to explore. They had a great time until, a little while after we visited the wreck pictured below, fuckwit Duke decided a little boy was having too much fun with his dad. The brown bastard attacked the little boy, and although did not puncture the skin, did mark his ribcage and the little guy will have some bruises over the next few days. We all shouted and chased Duke but by the time we realised that he wasn't fully playing, he had made his mark.

Needless to say, we apologised profusely but the damage was already done and from there my day was totally fucked, I felt so shit. I put Duke back onto his lead and training collar so that he could not enjoy the rest of the walk while the two girls romped around. I think they could also sense something was not right as they were subdued for the rest of the walk as well.

Not that I care much, it is apparently in dogs' nature to attack a being that is exhibiting the same kind of behaviour that the little fella had been. I say I don't care as, if it happens again, Duke will not live to see that night.

I say the event really fucked up what had started as a great day as we went to the Barnyard Theatre in the afternoon to watch "Rock Me Amadeus" and I just didn't enjoy the show all that much, thinking about what had happened on the beach earlier.

Here's photos of the wreck, taken with my camera phone. I paced it out to be roughly 77m from stem to stern but I can't find out the name as it is not on any website (or our GPS) that I can find...

This is my drive home from the office...

as if you needed more reminding that we have great views around here...these are coming up over Ou Kaapse Weg, past Table Mountain National Park and into Noordhoek with Longbeach in the distance...

Some Pics from our short time in the Fair Cape...

Sunset 1
Sunset 2
Sunset 3
Bonnie on the rocks at Soetwater
Strange cloud formation at Soetwater
Another shot of the sunset (all four sunsets on the same evening, different times)
The dogs and SWSBO enjoying Longbeach
From Longbeach, looking at Noordhoek
Chapman's Peak from Longbeach
The dogs, going moggy, on Longbeach
More of the dogs and SWSBO on Longbeach
I wanted to buy this place in Camps Bay, but at $18m, I thought it a bit overpriced (each unit, regardless of floor, has its own pool)

Spot the Difference...

Before...
After...

It took me all of ten minutes in the local licencing office to change registration numbers. In Shit Towne, it would have taken all morning.

What is even more amazing is the willingness to help and manners the local government employees have. They don't have the negative "fuck you" attitude of the Joburg government employees and here they actually like their jobs. Maybe they just know that their customers are actually keeping them in those jobs.

The guy in the licencing office gave me the form to fill in, marking which sections I had to complete and, even when I'd missed a piece, he asked me for the old licence form and completed the form for me!!!!!!!! Unheard of in Shit Towne.

At the Telkom office, I was shown the same courtesy. Given a form showing what details were needed, called "sir" or "Mr DMDad" whenever I was spoken to, I was astounded by the manners and even commented on it to the branch manager. Telkom are so jacked up down here that they had our ADSL line installed this morning, on time and as arranged, by another friendly person calling me "sir".

In general, the people are 1,000,000,000 times more friendly than any of the government or municipal workers you come across in Shit Towne. The people in the street don't know you from a bar of soap and yet they call each other "sir" or "madam", they say hello to each other (with a smile, not a grimace) and actually mean it if they ask you to have a nice day...

Does anyone still doubt whether coming to the Cape was a good move??? I certainly don't...

Hello, it's me again...back in Laptop-la-la land...

(unfortunately)...

Where do I start? It's been such a long time since my last rambling, and so much has happened that I'm sure to miss something out, but I'll see if I can recreate the most important things in chronological order. This is part 1...

Saturday 18th October

My bestest pal in the whole wide world, Bruthafromanuthamutha, arrived at 09h00 after an arduous flight from the United World of America. Arduous? He flew Business Class for fuck sakes. How arduous could that be? Actually, he had a long stopover in Heathrow's Terminal5, so it probably was that that made it arduous. Oh, and guess who he was ogling for a couple of hours? None other than the delectable Sophia Loren. Even at her age, she's totally shaggable, and Brutha was within groping distance of her...bastard.

Anyway, he had a couple of demands that had to be met on his arrival: (1) Rent a phone with a local contact number, (2) Copious amounts of Captain Morgan and Coke (it had been three years since his last Capn), (3) A decent bacon sandwich (apparently his brand of bacon in Obama-land is "shite"), (4) A blonde with big hooters, and (5) Curry spices of a specific kind.

With demand one out of the way within 10 minutes, the dilemma hit us. Do we head into the Keg and Aviator at the airport, or head to the News Cafe in Rivonia? Decision made, we headed for Rivonia and by just after 10h00 we had our first double Capns Organ in front of us. By just after that, we had our second and third, followed by the biggest-ass bacon sandwich you ever saw. Demand number four, by the way, was just a figment of my imagination...kewl, huh?


We staggered out of the News Cafe at around 14h30 and headed to satisfy demand number five, curry spices. Unfortunately, the place we used to get them, didn't have any and we left there empty-handed. Luckily though, SWSBO (she who shall be obeyed), had managed to find some from a different brand in Woolies and that had to do (sorry Brutha, I'll try and find some down here in the Cape and email them to you).

From then on, the rest of the afternoon and evening is a bit of a blur. The three of us had a little braai and only stopped drinking at around 21h00 when Brutha pleaded exhaustion. All told, we put away nearly two bottles of Capn between us...not bad for the first day.

Sunday 19th October

We were up bright and early as we had a two hour journey ahead of us. Brutha, aside from being my mate, was also the guest speaker at our seminar. He's quite a clever fellow, even though he'd be the last to admit it, and can talk the hind legs off a donkey. The seminar was at Monate Game Lodge and turned out, apart from the lack of a decent range of animals, to be a nice place. As I was to be bunking with the international guest speaker, we were granted lodgings in the owner's personal lodge. It was fully self-contained, with swimming pool and a sound system that would have looked great in my lounge, never mind a game lodge.

The delegates all started arriving around 11h00, some fashionably late as usual for SA standards, but the opening session started great. I gave the opening welcome message and went through the agenda for the duration, and then Brutha gave the keynote address. By the end of the session, what was supposed to have been an hour long, ended close to an hour late. It didn't matter though, as we had built in a little spare time in the agenda and it was used to good purpose. The delegates, instead of clamming up and only coming out of their shells (no pun intended) on the closing day, ended up shell-shocked at the presentation they had just heard and were jabbering like kugels at a kosher buffet. We ended the day with a game drive (well, what substituted for one, given there were no "real" animals to see) and copious amounts of alcohol and ended up only retiring at around midnight.

Monday 20th October

Day 2 of the seminar was pretty much like day one, except that Brutha and I retired early-ish (21h00) as we both had presentations the following day.

The only big thing that happened was on the personal side in that our removals company pitched up a day early to start packing our things for the move to the Cape. SWSBO was distressed by this as she had planned her day and was on her way out the door, but had to change everything to show these guys what to pack. In retrospect though, she does admit that they did a great job. We only had one breakage, a platter used for serving snacks, which wasn't bad considering the number of boxes they ended up packing.

Tuesday 21st October

The last real day of the seminar, we had three presentation sessions, mine being the last and between the delegates and a final game drive. I was my usual self, nervous, and botched some of the content but the ratings were okay. As it was the last night, it was customary for the entire delegation to "rip the arse out of it" and blow the booze budget. It turned into a great night and one of the guys from north west province had a great selection of 70 's and 80's music on his iPod which was played at extreme volume on the pub sound system. What was most surprising about the music selection was that it was on an iPod belonging to a black guy, yet it was music I had been brought up on by my folks. As I said, we ripped the arse out of the night and ended up going to bed around 03h30...{groan}...

Wednesday 22nd October

This was wrap-up morning on the seminar and was all over by around 11h00. Everybody bade their farewells of the new friends they had made over the previous couple of days and we too headed back to Shit Towne. I had a move to help with and relieve SWSBO of some of her stress. Usually, Brutha stays with us, but because of the move, I dropped him off at the Sandton Towers where he checked in and settled in for the night. It was a new experience for both of us and, as we have become very close over the last few years, very confusing for the both of us. I, on the other hand, went home and coordinated some of the packing, most of which had already been done though there was a few bits and pieces that required my attention. SWSBO and I had an early night as we were both exhausted (me from the indulgences of the previous night and SWSBO from the packing experience) and the removals truck was arriving the following morning.

Thursday 23rd October

The truck and crew arrived promptly just after 08h30 and, once they had packed a few more items, began carrying stuff out of the house and lining it up on the driveway. The guys were very good and considerate in their actions and, as it turns out, only one serving dish was broken or marked from the move. At around 14h00 I drove off to collect the trailer we had hired to cart some of our personal stuff as there was no way it was all going to, including three dogs, a cat and SWSBO (and me) were going to fit into the bakkie for that long trip the following day. As I was driving home, SWSBO phoned to let me know that the truck had just left, and that was just a little after 14h30. Only 6hrs to remove and pack all our stuff into the truck...quite amazing. What was more amazing was to come home to an empty house which, only hours before, had held all our worldly possessions. Now it was like walking through a cathedral, voices echoing eerily in all the rooms.

SWSBO and our housekeeper had pretty much finished cleaning floors and cupboards ready for the new tenant who was moving in over the coming weekend. At around 5pm, we said a teary farewell to Winnie, who had been with SWSBO for over ten years. However, it was satisfying to know that the new owner was going to retain Winnie's services, being new to the city and not having employed a new housekeeper before she moved into the house. The new owner is a single lady, a little naive to the ways of Shit Towne, but nice enough and who we are sure would look after the home we had built up over seven years of living there. Strange how it goes, that you just get a home the way you want it, and then you go and move...

We inflated the camping mattress and got our bedding ready for the night, before going out to dinner with Brutha and a couple of other close friends, as a kind of farewell to Shit Towne.

We probably got home at somewhere around 22h30, having said teary farewells to Brutha who we dropped at the hotel. We weren't going to be seeing him again on this trip as we were leaving early the following morning for the long drive down to Colesberg, where we would overnight before pushing on to Sunnydale. Saying "later" (never "goodbye") to Brutha is always a sad moment for me, but this was way different as it is usually just him and me at the airport. Now, someone else would be making sure he actually left the country.

Friday 24th October

Up at somewhere around 6am, I had packed most of the stuff on the trailer the day before, but there was still those last moment things that SWSBO wanted to finish off, as well as get the cat sedated and into her cage, and the dogs and their beds into the back of the bakkie. It was going to be a long day for all of us and I wanted to get this part of the trip over as quickly as possible. We left Shit Towne somewhere around 9am, not looking back as we left the driveway, looking forward to what was coming at the end of the 1,500km road trip.

We stopped every couple of hundred km's, in all probably four times, for the dogs to get out and have a runabout and a piddle. It also helped us with relieving the fatigue and monotony of the trip. The cat was fantastic...she mewed that sad sort of sound that only a cat can make, but only for the first half hour and then we didn't hear a peep from her as she settled down. The dogs, too, were great and once they realised that this was a longer trip than usual, settled down on their beds and only appeared when I had to slow down because of getting stuck behind a truck or a slower speed limit through a town. Once they realised that we were speeding up again, they settled back to sleep again.

We reached Colesberg somewhere after 4pm, having done the last 12km on dirt road to the stud farm where we were overnighting. The people there were very friendly and, it was apparent, they didn't get too many visitors from Joburg. The room was rudimentary, nothing like the photo on the website, but we were only there for some dinner and a bed for a few hours so I wasn't too concerned about the cosmetic appearance. Dinner was a home-cooked affair, chicken stew and loads of vegetables, followed by upside down pudding, in tandem with a couple of cold Windhoek lagers.

We pleaded exhaustion at around 9pm and retired to our room after letting the dogs out for a pee. The dogs had their beds in our room, which also housed six single beds. Cassie managed to find her way onto one of them sometime through the night. The cat, unfortunately for her, was jailed in the bathroom for the night, otherwise she might have run away. We certainly couldn't leave her in the tiny cage overnight so the bathroom was, though not completely suitable, at least acceptable for the couple of hours. The dogs heard her and on one or two occasions through the night, tried to claw their way in the bathroom door to see what was going on but went back to their beds after a quick squirt of water from the spray bottle from me. At dog training school you are taught, instead of shouting and beating the dogs, just to squirt them with a spray bottle. It works on small children too...I'm told.

Needless to say, after the excitement of the day and the long drive, I was exhausted and fell asleep straight away.

Saturday 25th October

Up at 04h00, I stumbled through and had a shower, making sure I kept the cat in the bathroom so that the dogs couldn't get hold of her. She lives in abject fear of the two Weimaraner's, does the poor cat. We were told by the "breeder", when we first got Bonnie, that the Weimaraner breed was bred for hunting wild rabbits. They traditionally have a tail that is seven digits long, so that they can be pulled out of the rabbit holes they get stuck in. NOT!!! FUCKIN' LYING BASTARDS!!!

Weimaraner's were bred in the 1800's by the Duke of the then Weimar Republic (now split into parts and annexed into Germany and Austria, I believe) to hunt wild CATS! It's no wonder the cat avoids them like the plague, and that Bonnie's pupils dilate to the size of something out of a Disney movie character's and she takes on the classic Pointer stance when she sees the poor furball. Anyway, I digress...

I showered, then woke SWSBO with a cup of coffee and then she took a shower too. We packed our few belongings back into the trailer and bakkie and hit the dirt road outta Dodge. Our hosts for the night had told us not to worry about the trailer and its contents as any theft, in their small community, is dealt with very severely. And they were true to their word, as our stuff had not been touched. I would have seen it anyway, as the entire trailer was covered in a fine dust that would have given prints away.

We must have been about 5km along the dirt road when SWSBO says "Where's the dog's collars?" She checks behind the seat where they usually are, but they're not there. We haven't picked them up off the garden furniture where we had been sitting having a cold beer with our hosts the evening before. FUCK!! Turn the bakkie and trailer around (I was getting to be a dab hand at doing a 53-point turn with a trailer by then) and head back to the farm, find the collars where we left them , and do another 53-point turn to get us back on the dirt road...a great start to the day.

We hit the tar highway after about a half hour of more dirt road and from then on it was plain sailing until we reached Three Sisters. Well, almost plain sailing...I noticed that the fuel light had come on with about 40km to go to Three Sisters and figured I'd make it. I knew there was a petrol station as you go into the town and a long downhill if I needed it. I also didn't know how long the light had been on, or how the trailer was affecting the fuel consumption on the bakkie, so I was cruising on a wing-and-a-prayer. As it happens, we made it to the Shell Ultra City and I put 82 litres of diesel into an 80 litre tank...talk about cutting it fine.

Following that, there were no more near-mishaps and we passed the removals truck just outside the little town of Touws Rivier. I also noticed that he had turned off the highway just after we passed him and I wondered where he was off to. I asked the driver when they got to the house and he said he had pulled off for fuel and I said it was strange as we had fuelled on the highway and he'd just passed the only station I'd seen on the stretch.

Once we came through the Du Toit's Kloof Tunnel, I put the GPS on as I was unfamiliar with coming into Cape Town from that side. I've driven the tunnel twice, but on both occasions was going away from Cape Town. Once I punched in the co-ordinates for the house, it took us straight there, and it was a wonderful sight coming across the mountain on Ou Kaapse Weg (Old Cape Way).

Coming into the Hex River Valley...beautiful countryside...there was still snow on the tops of the mountains.

We had all had enough of the car for the day and, at just after 2pm, we had been on the road for almost 800km and numerous stops for the dogs to pee. I gave the removals truck a call to see where they were to which I was asked if they minded if they arrived the following morning at 8am. I guessed it had something to do with the stopover which I'd seen, but I also thought that it would be better if they got there the following day to give us and the animals a chance to settle down, as well as give them enough daylight on the sunday to offload the truck.

I never thought we would be spending another night on that horrible blow-up mattress, but we had to. At least that would be the last...

Sunday 26th October

Up early after an extremely uncomfortable night, we had a cup of coffee and a biscuit as breakfast, finishing just before I heard the truck coming around the corner. SWSBO got the dogs together and I supervised the unloading of most of the boxes and furniture. There was only three of the removals guys with the truck as it is their company policy to hire local temp guys to help with the unloading. They ended up finding some guy who they absolutely worked like a horse, only to pay him a measly R70 at the end of it. When he started creating hell, the driver showed me a copy of the policy document and I resolved to drop the removals guys an email to say they need to change that.

The unloading was finished at about half past noon and SWSBO went off to get some lunch for everyone. She came back about a half hour later with KFC and a couple of bottles of Coke, which we split up fairly and sent the temp guy off with lunch and an extra R150 in his pocket (on top of the R70 from the removals company). I could hear him mumbling away to himself from 150m down the road. Hopefully the R150 we gave him will keep him and his mates from deciding to come back and see what of our stuff they fancy for themselves.

When the truck had left, we sat down to eat and then took on the job of unpacking the most critical of our stuff. We are only renting the house for six months while we decide where we want to buy a place, so we don't want to have to repack everything in a few months time. My first task was to assemble the bed and having kept all the bolts to one side, had it done in a jiffy...and we slept like babies that night, I tell you...

It gets dark here at after 7pm these days and I believe it will stay light until about 9pm in the peak of summer. That suits me fine cos at least you can come home from the office and have a sundowner in the garden, or take the dogs for a walk on the beach before nightfall.

On Sunday evening, we took the mongrel hordes for a run on the beach, more to get their legs exercised after the drive of the days before, but also to see how they would enjoy it. I was surprised to even see them jumping into the back of the bakkie. Let me tell you...those dogs had an absolute ball on the beach. It was Bonnie's second time, but the other two dogs' first time, on the beach. All three of them ran about like mad idiots, revelling in the space. We must have walked about 2km when we decided to turn back and call it a day, as we were all tired.

In the two weeks we've already been here, we have had them on the beach at least every second evening, even getting caught in the rain once. I'll go into the philosophical side of being in the Cape in another posting. For now, I'll restrict it to the drive and the move...


In closing this edition, friends told us that it was going to be an emotional experience, leaving the home we'd known for all those years but in all honesty, looking back, we were so busy getting things done that we didn't have a chance to get emotional about it. I even looked into SWSBO's eyes on our way out the driveway for the last time, but I was surprised to see that there wasn't a tear even though I'd expected there to be floods. Perhaps she was having a silent moment, I certainly was, even though in the bigger scheme of things I knew we were moving to somewhere better.

More to come in the following few days...hope you lot are all well...

View from Kalk Bay Harbour Wall


Another shot from the Harbour Wall, towards Simonstown

The Weekend in Cape Town was, as promised, interesting...

Steph flew down on Thursday morning as she had some business meetings to attend to. I only flew down on Friday as I was only supposed to have one discussion about a large retailer who wanted to talk about some consulting.

As it is, my meeting was cancelled by our internal contact down there, but I was buggered if I was going to cancel my trip to look for a house. Management don't (yet) know that my meeting was cancelled, but I'll cross that bridge if/when I get to it.

I did, however, have another meeting.

On Wednesday, out of the blue, I get a phone call from a personnel agency saying they saw my CV on the web (which I'd forgotten about) and it fits what they may be looking for for a client of theirs and would I mind relocating to the Western Cape if I got the job? DOH! "It's your lucky day", I told the lady, "As it happens, I'm flying to Cape Town on Friday morning to look for a house as we're busy emigrating (as I call it) down there at this very moment". Once the sounds of shock and awe had subsided on the line, I said to the lady that I would be willing to get together for an interview while I was down there. More shock and awe noises. So we set up some time on Friday, at noon, for an interview.

I arrived in Cape Town, a little after 9am having got up at 5am to get a couple of things done for the animals and to get showered and shaved to look my best for the interview. Steph was waiting at the Drop'n'Go for me, but still had to walk around to the terminal to get me cos the whole place is in an upheaval at the moment while they "improve" the airport for the upcoming World Cup in 2010.

We drove through to Tableview, quite a nice area, where we had a short drive around and then breakfast in Bayside Mall at a little coffee shop. At around 11h30, I left Steph at the hairdresser to have some lowlights put in her hair ("I'll only be an hour") and I headed off in anticipation of getting lost looking for the interview offices.

I got there at 11h35. The office was literally 1km from the mall.

I made an early appearance, thinking I'll use it to make a good first impression. Whether it did or not, I don't know, but the interviewing lady was surprised to see me so early. She called in a colleague, who obviously had more experience in the industry than she did as he asked most of the questions. We chatted about work, some regulation stuff, and obviously some chit-chat, for about 40mins upon which they said they'd get back to me within a couple of days. As it is, they sent me a load of documentation to fill in so that they could do background checks and advised that their client would be making a decision pretty soon. So, it sounds good on that front...new life and a new job all in one go, what a pleasure.

After that, I went back to the hairdresser for Steph and ended up sitting there for almost another 2hrs while she finished her 1hr lowlights (3.5hrs in total). When she eventually walked out, I had read all my new fishing magazines and was just about to get up and go for a walk but instead we went for a drive to look at some houses and stopped at a fish'n'chip takeaway (I know now to never go to that chain again...yuck) for a little snack.

We saw some nice houses and we saw some absolute crap, places I wouldn't even allow our dogs to stay in as their kennels are cleaner.

At around 4pm, we made our way into town to The Southern Sun Cullinan Hotel, where we were staying for the two nights of our trip. Steph had stayed with a friend of hers the night before to cut down the expenses.

We chilled out for the rest of the afternoon, checking various estate agents for house rentals and where each of the suburbs was located so that we could look at different options. We both phoned a couple of agents and set up appointments for over the weekend, at which time it was time to shut down the laptops and go out to dinner with Steph's friend and another mutual friend of theirs (a chatty Irish woman) that Steph had also been introduced to when she was there for the couple of months recently.

For the life of me, I can't remember the name of the restaurant, but it was good food even if the wine was a little too expensive even for Cape Town. All told, the bill came to R850 including tip and two bottles of wine. Steph said we'd pick up the tab, but in the end, I did.

We dropped the two ladies off at their respective homes, quite close to each other and headed back to the hotel for a peaceful night's sleep.

Not being used to the bed and soft pillows though, I was awake at around 7am and got up to put the kettle on, after which we showered and headed out to look at some more houses. Steph woke up with the flu, which she was convinced she got from an oriental guy sitting close to her on the 'plane who had sneezed and sprayed all over the place. I joked about hoping it wasn't bird flu, but she was really miserable the whole weekend thanks to that twat.

We had breakfast in the Tableview Primi Piatti, which wasn't bad, and watched the guys kite-surfing on Blouberg beach. The wind was howling, so they were having a ball. In the bay was the US Navy's USS Theodore Roosevelt, a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier and from where we were sitting a couple of miles away it still looked imposing. It is believed to be the length of three rugby fields, about 300m long.

Around 11h30, we made our way down toward Hout Bay and got stuck in some traffic which delayed us a bit. I was getting a little nervous as we had not seen anything we really fancied and whose owners would allow our three dogs and cat, and I know how long it can take to find a place suitable to live in, even if it is for a short period. We called an agent in Noordhoek, which is about 30mins from Cape Town on a bad day enquiring about a place we'd seen in the newspaper and she advised that that place had been rented, but she had a couple of others we could look at if interested.

Naturally, swe wanted to look at as many places as we could in the short time we had, so we took down the addresses and punched them into the GPS. It is such a nice drive from Cape Town over Ou Kaapse Weg into Noordhoek, which we had to take as Chapman's Peak was closed for maintenance (again). Looking at the house at No. 10 Partridge Road, we liked what we saw and, as a bonus, it was empty whcih meant we could move in anytime basically (if we took it). We called the agent and she agreed to meet us at 14h45 as she was at the doctor, also with flu.

We had some time to kill, so went for a drink at The Nag's Head pub, located just at the start of the Chapman's Peak drive. Noordhoek is famous for its horse-y people (hence the pub name) and lifestyle and you can often see people taking their horses for a trot along nine-mile beach. I was dying for a pint of Bosun's Bitter as we can't get it in Shit Towne, but they didn't have it wither, so unless there's some good live music going to be played there, I won't be back too often. A colleague of ours, who lives in the neighbourhood, has already given me the name another pub, The Red Herring, where they definately sell Bosun's so that might just become my "local".

It was just a short drive back to Partridge Road, so we took it slowly, already getting into the Cape Town relaxed way of doing things, and we still arrived about ten minutes before the agent. After introductions, she opened the gate to the property and we immediately saw something we could live in. A decent sized garden, big enough for the dogs, enough trees and a high enough wall for the cat to climb in to get away from them, as well as a three bedroomed house with a seperate granny flat and double garage for us. AND NO BURGLAR GUARDS!!!!

We chatted with the agent, had a look around the house and agreed that this was where we wanted to be, even if it was for a short period while we settled into the Cape way of life. It was a perfect place to start.

All three bedrooms have laminated wood flooring installed and the rest of the house is tiled. It might be a little cool in winter, but at least we don't have carpets to worry about with dog's muddy paws. The two bathrooms are both big enough to put a single bed in each and still have some space left over, and there is a seperate laundry. The only thing the kitchen doesn't have is space for the dishwasher so that might have to go into the laundry, but the owner has to replace a counter top where the sink wasn't sealed properly so maybe she'll be good enough to put a tap connection in there at the same time.

Anyway, the good news is that we told the agent we wanted to live there and she said that it shouldn't be a problem, pending the paperwork which she would email to us on Monday morning. I was ready to sign a deposit cheque for her, there and then, if it would secure the place for us.

Happy that it was a done deal, we took a long drive around Cape Point through Simons Town and stopped the car in Kalk Bay to watch some whales frolicking about 300m offshore. Fuck Hermanus if the whales come this close here! In Hermanus we had to get on a bloody boat to go and see whales this close (mind you, it was a booze cruise, so it was kewl too). Steph was really starting to feel lousy now, so we headed back to the hotel and settled in for the night, ordering room service which was lousy too.

On Sunday, we got up and packed our stuff, then headed off to Salt Restaurant in the old Ambassador Hotel in Camps Bay for breakfast. Steph originally wanted to go there the night before for dinner but the flu drove her to bed rather. She wasn't feeling much better, but seeing as it was our last day in Slaapstad, I thought it might be a nice touch. I used to make the Ambassador's pub my first stop whenever I went to Cape Town on business, as it used to have a great pub overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, from where you could watch the sun go down over the water. It was also six stories above the water's edge, which made an added attraction. Now, however, the pub is gone and they've put this Salt restaurant in its place...a turn for the worse, in my books, as I won't be going back there too much anymore either. The restaurant is really upmarket in atmosphere and you could see that some of the patrons weren't short of a few bucks. And here was me, sitting in my "friends don't let friends fish sober" t-shirt...at least it got the thumbs-up from the gay maitre'd...

After breakfast, we drove out to Somerset West area and to see what Gordon's Bay was like. Needless to say, with the wind blowing hard enough to literally take the ice cream off your cone, we decided that we wouldn't ever like to live there. The homes looked pleasant enough, some of them anyway, but the howling south-easter wind was enough to turn us against living there forever.

Our drive back to the airport was in silence, showing that we were at least satisfied with what we had achieved in the short time available. The only, and last, difficulty we had was at the airport itself. We were supposed to take off at 15h50, landing in Shit Towne 2hrs later, but a "technical delay" caused our 'plane to only get into the air just before 8pm. By the time we got our luggage in OR Tambo airport (OR WHAT?) and got home, it was almost 22h30 and we were both knackered from having to sit in Cape Town airport for so long.

Anyway, it was a good weekend, and we now have one more goal out of our way...

Here's a Google Earth photo of the area where we'll be living and a line showing how far we are from the beach...anybody jealous yet? And not to forget, there'll be plenty of place for the Kosi Fishing Team to come down and bunk on the property...

I was walking...

...past the mental hospital the other day, and all the patients were shouting, '13...13....13...13.'

The fence was too high to see over, but I saw a little gap in the planks and looked through to see what was going on.

Some bastard poked me in the eye with a stick.

Then they all started shouting. '14...14...14...14....'.

The coming weekend...

is going to be quite interesting, I believe.

Steph is flying down to Cape Town on Thursday morning and I'll be joining her on Friday, partly for business but mainly for us to look for a place to stay when we move down there at the end of October.

The trip is partly business as our executive agreed that he would fork out the cost of the trip as a business trip if we held a meeting or two, either internally or with clients. It was good of him to do so as it saves us a few grand in flights, hotel and car hire costs.

Friends of ours, who decided after we did to move, are also moving down there and they've already been down to look for houses even thouh they have not sold their place in Shit Towne yet. They reckon there are some really nice places, not too expensive, in Somerset West and mentioned they saw one on sale for R1.2m which included a lovely four-bedroomed house on a 1,000sqm stand. Up to now, we have only seen stands of around 600sqm and we will need the space for Steph's three "children" (she has children, I have dogs). So, no doubt we'll be heading out that way for a look-see and it'll be nice and close to the ocean which is one of my requirements.

In the meantime, I have to arrange a meeting at the Cape Town office, but might already have one lined up to talk about a large retail chain who want some assistance with their business continuity.

I've been looking around on the web, on the property rental sites, for places to rent and there are some reasonable looking places, even if their stands are not quite as big as I would like. The property market is affecting everyone, but I cannot understand how someone who cannot afford their bond in the first place should be allowed to rent their place out including an agent's fee. These people should be obliged to put their homes on the market so that someone who can afford that house, can buy it instead of paying an inflated price to rent it.

Needless to say, as it's only a weekend visit, I will not be allowed to take down my fishing gear. That's fair enough, cos when we move down I'll be sitting on the shoreline quite regularly...

I think I'll take Steph on the Spirit of Victoria on Friday evening for a sundowner cruise. We've been on it before and it's quite pleasant as you cruise right out to Robben Island (home for 27 years to the world's most famous prisoner) and then down to the Camps Bay area. I just hope the weather plays along.

On Saturday we'll pop into an estate agent who "specialises" in letting houses and see what he/she has to offer and hopefully there will be some in the right area (ie, next to the beach). I have no doubt we'll find something, it's just a case of getting down there and looking around.

We fly back to Shit Towne on Sunday afternoon so will also have time to look around on Sunday if we don't find anything on the previous days. In fact, hopefully, we'll find something on Friday and have the weekend to chill out in Cape Town and maybe go and see some whales in Hermanus...

So, off we go to see the folks at the coast...

Last week Friday night, Steph and I drove down to see the folks as it could be a while before we see them again seeing as we're moving to Cape Town at the end of October (on that, our buyers bond was approved, so it is all systems go for the move).

We left Shit Towne at about 2pm and by then, the road was already packed. There were a large number of vehicles' occupants that obviously had the same idea as we had, seeing as the coming Wednesday was a public holiday and they also needed some time away from the local pressures. It took us almost an hour just to clear Shit Towne boundaries, almost twice as long as usual.

The highway was pretty busy all the way down to the coast and, as usual, we had to contend with the usual volumes of fuckwits in their Beamers thinking they owned the road, speeding up from behind and flashing their lights. A number of times, I stuck in my lane and cruised at 130k's, already over the limit, and waited until I had a gap past the truck or car I was passing. A number of times I got the beady eyeball from the wanker in the Beamer, to which I just smiled and returned the occasional finger gesture. Why do people always have to get in your face and annoy the hell out of you, even when they are breaking the law? Wankers...

We drove straight through to Estcourt (where the bacon and sausages come from) and stopped to refill the bakkie and get some coffee. Just after that, the rain started and didn't let up for most of the trip. In fact, the rain didn't stop until Sunday afternoon!! At times, it came down quite hard, but mostly it was just a light drizzle and through PMBurg it was nothing more than a heavy mist, quite normal for those parts. At my folks place, in Mtwalume, it rained consistently for more than 24hrs.

Tired as I was, I wasn't going to break my arrival habit and sat down to listen to the sea (and rainfall) with a large single malt scotch on ice. There's nothing like the sound of the sea to calm me down, and the scotch goes a long way in helping too. It must have been around midnight when I eventually decided I was tired enough to sleep and it was lights out until after 8am on Saturday morning.

My folks are technology-challenged to say the least. They had asked me to have a look at their mini-hi-fi as the speakers weren't working when they played a CD or the TV through the system. Aside from being plenty of years old, the system is and always has been, crap. I would have turfed it out long ago, but my father would have disowned me. This time, however, I was having none of it and decided to replace the system with something current. A quick trip through to Margate and I had a R1,400 Samsung home entertainment system in the bakkie, ready for quick instalment.

I had told my father I was replacing the system and he told me not to, as usual, but I went ahead anyway. I removed the old speakers, system unit, video machine and the old CD player. I installed the new system, connected the TV to it, tested it with the tunnel scene in Die Hard 4 (great sound effects, even though it's complete bollocks) and impressed the old man so much, he now treats the remote control better than the DSTv control, like a fourth child. I saved four plugs, a couple of TV co-ax cables and about four square metres of wall unit space (ok, that's an exaggeration), and had a pile of junk lying in the corner of the lounge, ready to be thrown away the following morning. My father looked less than impressed as he still seems to think he had a good system and the more units in it, the better it must be.

My mother, too, looked less than impressed as my father now had another remote control and access to what, to her, was already an overly-loud TV set. My father is almost deaf in one ear thanks to his mother when he was a boy (ladies, never poke a Kirby hair grip in your children's ears to clean them - in fact, never poke anything in your children's ears) and now uses this as an excuse to turn the TV volume up beyond levels acceptable to the rest of us and which would probably damage the eardrums of most sensitive mammals.

Needless to say, dad has used the sound system every time he has turned on the TV. Perhaps the surround sound speaker next to his head lets him hear things better...I don't know.

The rest of Saturday was spent in the Sezela Country Club playing snooker with my father and brother, and a pal of his who is nicknamed "Sputnik". Don't ask me why, but perhaps it's because he revolves around wherever there's a free beer to be had. Dad and I partnered and at about 4pm when we gave up, I pleaded having not played snooker since we left Stanger about 20 years ago. That truly was the last time I remember playing snooker, so I think my complaint was valid. We got beaten, though not by too much.

That evening, after a great lamb curry my brother had prepared for us the day before, we chilled out for the evening in front of the loud TV, as it was still raining and we couldn't sit outside to chat or play our usual game of Trivial Pursuit.

Sunday morning saw the weather brightening a bit, with the promise of blue sky peeking through the clouds, so my brother and I took a quick drive to the river mouth to see if it would be worthwhile going fishing later. As it was, the water looked great and we made up our minds to go down at about 4pm and fish a while into the night.

My brother ended up catching a nice Cape Salmon of about 4kg while all I ended up catching was a nice bump on the head when we got home at about midnight after I didn't look what I was doing and opened the bakkie door with my head in the way. Luckily I had my beanie on, otherwise the bleeding might have been worse and required stitches. It was, on the whole, a good night and fun to sit on the beach at night again.

Monday dawned bright and cloudless and was the basis for us deciding to stay another day at the coast. Not that it did Steph much good though, as she ended up working most of the day and was no fun for either of us. We really need to get her out of that role as she (we) have no life around this time of the quarter end. This goddamned corporation expects you to give up your life for them around now, and in return what do you get for it? Fuckall...even your commissions are capped at a limit determined by the corporation when they have to pay them out.

Mum and Steph did, however, take a trip into town for a bit of shopping in the afternoon and brother and I got our tackle ready for another bit of night fishing. After an early evening braai, we headed off to the beach around 7pm and sat, fishless, until around 11pm when it got a bit too cool (and I ran out of scotch in my hip flask).

Tuesday saw us out of bed around 8am again, packed and ready to hit the highway home by just after 10am. The road turned out to be quite quiet, though there was an exceptionally strong headwind blowing all the way home from when we turned off the coastal highway. It blew strong enough to bring the bakkie's consumption down from around 10km per litre to just over 7km, so we really struggled.

It's always nice to be home, as much as you had a good time away...

A New Motivational Poster for my screensaver...

and how true it is...

Why the fuck did I bother...

taking leave for the entire week, when I've done nothing but work today?

The company owes me a day, which I will be claiming back, as I have been on email and the phone the entire day sorting out crap from other sources which should have been resolved a long time ago...

I'm fucked if I'm working tomorrow...the company can get stuffed on that one.

A young feller is brought home to meet the folks...

His girl greets him at the door and says, "I'm sorry, I'm running late. Please come in and I'll introduce you to my folks. And I, uhh, forgot to tell you, they're both deaf mutes."

With this she ushers him into the living room, introduces him to her parents and promptly disappears. As you can imagine this is a little uncomfortable as both of the parents are completely silent.

Dad is sitting in his arm chair watching golf on TV, and Mom is busy knitting. After about ten minutes of complete silence, Mom jumps from her chair, pulls up her skirt, pulls down her panties, and pours a glass of water over her ass.

Just as suddenly, Dad launches himself across the room, bends her over the couch, and takes her from behind. He then sits back down in his chair and balances a match stick in front of his eye.

The room is plunged back into eerie silence and the young man is shocked into disbelief. After a further ten minutes, the daughter returns fully dressed and ready for the evening. The date is a complete disaster with the young man completely distracted by the on goings earlier in the living room.

At the end of the night, the girl asks, "What's the matter? Have I done something wrong?"

"No, it's not you," he replied, "It's just that the strangest thing happened while I was waiting for you and I am still a bit shocked. Well, first your Mother jumps from her chair, lifts up her skirt, pulls down her panties, and throws a glass of water over her behind. Then, as if that weren't enough, your Father races from his chair, leans her over the couch and does her from behind. He then sits back down and places a match stick by his eye."

"Oh, is that all?" replies the girl.

The man can't believe her casual response. The girl explains. "Mom was simply saying, 'Are you going to get this asshole a drink?' and Dad was replying, 'No, fuck him - I'm watching the match."

For those Disbelievers...

about my story regarding the Mekong Giant Catfish, check out this link, and click on "Mekong Giant Catfish" for a video clip...

...and then check the Giant Freshwater Stingray video to the right of that...

The Amazing Scotsman....

A salesman drove into a small town where a circus was in progress. A sign read: 'Don't Miss The Amazing Scotsman'. The salesman bought a ticket and sat down. There, on centre stage, was a table with three walnuts on it. Standing next to it was an old Scotsman. Suddenly the old man lifted his kilt, whipped out a huge willy and smashed all three walnuts with three mighty swings! The crowd erupted in applause as the elderly Scot was carried off on the shoulders of the crowd.

Ten years later the salesman visited the same little town and saw a faded sign for the same circus and the same sign 'Don't Miss The Amazing Scotsman'. He couldn't believe the old guy was still alive much less still doing his act! He bought a ticket. Again, the centre ring was illuminated.

This time, however, instead of walnuts, three coconuts were placed on the table. The Scotsman stood before them, then suddenly lifted his kilt and shattered the coconuts with three swings of his amazing member. The crowd went wild! Flabbergasted, the salesman requested a meeting with him after the show.

'You're incredible!' he told the Scotsman. 'But I have to know something. You're older now, why switch from walnuts to coconuts? ''Well laddie,' said the Scot, 'Ma eyes are nae whit they used tae be.'



You lot might think this is a joke, but it's actually a true story, applicable to all us Scotsmen...

Definately not a Fishy Story...

I was working in my study today, with the TV monitor on as usual, and there was a program on NatGeo Wild channel called Megafish. This episode showed the world's largest freshwater catfish and stingray, both in Vietnam.

I only managed to take photos of the catfish and, as you can see, replication from TV to phone camera (I got a new Blackberry Pearl 8110 - 5 megapixel camera) is not that good.

I think you still get a good idea of how fuckin' big this thing is though. It is EIGHT FEET in length, and an estimated 200kg!!!!!!!!!




The story also said that the stingray measured 7.2m from the top of the head to the tip of the tail, and weighed in at over 500kg!!!!!!!!!

Kosi Fishing Team....I'll try and find out how much it'll cost us for a fishing trip out that way. For that size fish, fuck Namibia...

At last, we know how...

to beat the Aussies...