Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park Safari - Episode 1

As per the SANParks website, the Kgalagadi is:

“Where the red dunes and scrub fade into infinity and herds of gemsbok, springbok, eland and blue wildebeest follow the seasons, where imposing camel thorn trees provide shade for huge black-mane lions and vantage points for leopard and many raptors... this is the Kgalagadi Transfrontier National Park. An amalgamation of the Kalahari Gemsbok National Park in South Africa (proclaimed in 1931) and the Gemsbok National Park in Botswana, the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park comprises an area of over 3,6 million hectares – one of very few conservation areas of this magnitude left in the world.

Red sand dunes, sparse vegetation and the dry riverbeds of the Nossob and Auob show antelope and predator species off to spectacular advantage and provide excellent photographic opportunities. Kgalagadi is also a haven for birders, especially those interested in birds of prey.”

On the map below, the blue line is the route we followed through the Park.


Thursday 6th May

Although a few days into the trip, this is the first opportunity I have had to write, hence the date. The trip actually started on Monday 3rd May, but I will catch up here.

I set the alarm to go off at 07h00 but was woken by Steph chomping at the bit to go for a pee at 06h55. I lay still in bed, an inflatable mattress that has been “bed” for the last three nights, until the alarm went off. I had set my watch the night before, not knowing if I would wake in time. We had arranged to meet at Augrabies National Park reception area for the drive through to Twee Rivieren (on the SA side, but known as Two Rivers on the Botswana side – how petty), the entry point to the Kgalagadi National Transfrontier Park (KNTP), at 10h00. This would be the real start to the adventure we had been on for the last four days.

To go back a bit and catch up on those last four days, we had left Sunnydale just before 11am on Monday morning, a little later than either Attie or I would have liked. Unfortunately, it was beyond our control, as Steph had had to take Doberman Duke to the Vet. Duke had had a strange cough for a couple of days that sounded much like a human “croup” cough. A friend of mine on the National Sea Rescue Institute (NSRI), a Vet as well, said that Doberman’s were prone to a “heart cough” and we should have him seen by a Vet. As it turns out, we had to have Duke sent for an ECG scan and it was discovered that his heart muscle is damaged and that we basically do not know how much longer he has to live. He is only eight years old and Steph had expected to have him around for at least twelve years. Also, his heart rate was supposed to be about seventy beats per minute, but his was almost two hundred. He has always been highly strung, but even I think that is a bit high. How long he still has to live, we are not sure, but he is on medication to calm him down a bit.

Anyway, we get on the road, fully packed for fifteen days away from home, the Mazda-rati looking like it is sitting on its arse, the back is so low. Mother has flown in from Mtwalume to look after the animals so that we can go on our first real holiday in over eighteen months since moving to Cape Town. She also brings a friend, Sylvia, with her for company and Sylvia pays her own flight which is just as well as I estimate I’ve spent at least ZAR15k getting ready for the holiday, excluding Mum’s flight, another ZAR1,200.

I have personally installed a second battery system in the Mazda-rati, built a box to contain the 143amp/hour deep cell battery, strung the cables along the chassis from the front battery, affixed all the connectors, wired all the Hella plugs for lights and gadgets, installed the Double Pole Double Throw (DPDT) switches to volt and amp meters to monitor power consumption, run a cable back through from the second battery to a special board I built for the new Snomaster fridge/freezer which is installed where the back seat usually is, and ultimately made sure we have enough power to run the whole lot while we are in the Kalahari Desert, starting in a couple of days. However, in the process of drilling the hole back to the cab for the fridge, I also managed to drill through four wires of the wiring harness, thereby cutting off feeds to my fuel gauge and brake lights. I now have to watch the odometer carefully to see when I have to fill up with diesel again – no real problem but a pain in the arse, as I now do not have a warning light to let me know when fuel is running low. Having no brake lights has not proved too much of an issue, yet. Also, I still do not know what is supposed to be connected to the other two of the four wires I cut as everything else works fine, as far as I can see.

From the KNTP, we headed east to Keimoes, a quaint wine producing town on the banks of the mighty Orange River, the “blood” of the region. If it wasn’t for this river and the industries it supports, the region would be a complete desert, devoid of most human activity and, probably, still in the hands of the indigenous Xhoisan people (the Bushmen). Maybe not altogether a bad thing, come to think of it.

In Keimoes, we stop in at PEP Stores to buy a couple of cheap blankets, as our sleeping bags have barely kept us warm over the last few nights and Steph is complaining about being cold. I have slept in just my shorts and am not too bothered by the chill, but it might be different in the desert. I’m also not keen on sleeping in too much clothing, as it is restrictive to movement in the sleeping bag. I also buy a few other bits and pieces in Spar, such as glue for my shoe soles and instant coffee. Brewing the real stuff every morning, although tasty, is time-consuming.

Let’s go back another couple of days again…

From home, we drive via the Bainskloof Pass and its amazing scenery, through Ceres, onto the dirt roads to our first stopover, the Tankwa Karoo National Park. “Park” is a misnomer as one usually associates a park with swings and roundabouts, but here there’s only rugged 4x4 terrain, which is great in itself, and a rough road to our campsite for the night which, as it happens, is at the end of the road – literally. We can go no further as there is only bush after that point and even Livingstone himself would have had to hack his way through if he’d wanted to go further.


The area of the park we stop at is called “Langkloof” and is exactly that – in front of us is a long cliff. The riverbed below us probably hasn’t seen any water in years, it’s so dry.


The night temperature drops to 11oC overnight but is bearable, although I’m in a sleeping bag I haven’t used in ten years and struggle through the night now knowing how a dick feels when it’s crammed into a condom two sizes too small for it. Sleep starts easy but by 4am I’m straining my eyes in the dark looking for the tent roof and the light that swings from it. It is pitch dark in this part of the world as there is no ambient light from towns or cities for at least 100km in any direction. The earlier stargazing was a little disappointing as some cloud had moved in and spoiled the view.


Sitting in the early morning light, steaming cup of coffee in my hand, I was wondering if we were going to have this cold weather for the entire trip. The second night at Verneukpan (“Cheater’s Flats”) and the third at Augrabies National Park was just as cold, but here I am at Twee Rivieren on the fourth night at 23h26pm and I am lying half out of my sleeping bag in only a t-shirt and shorts. So far, this is the warmest night by a long way.


From Tankwa, we had a drive up the Ganagga Pass, and the weather had stayed cool, overcast most of the day until just before reaching Verneukpan.


We got to the entrance to the pan at about 4pm, after another bone-jarring trip over dirt roads, only to find the gate padlocked and having to drive 10km back the way we had come, to the farm to collect the key. It was just as well we went back as we also bought some much-needed firewood, not only for the braai but also to stoke the “donkey” (a modified steel cylinder containing water, heated by an external fire) for a hot shower the following morning, our first since leaving home.


As usual, the temperature dropped to 12oC overnight and the dawn broke chilly. After a quick breakfast of coffee and rusks, we made some toasted sandwiches for the road, Attie fired up the donkey and we started packing the vehicles and taking down the tents. Once the vehicles were packed, the shower was ready and we all took our turns. By the sound of it, it was only me who enjoyed the lukewarm water, but it was probably because I only take warm showers at home and do not need scalding hot water.

As we were waiting for Steph to finish her shower, unbelievably, on one of the driest places on earth it started raining. Just a fine sprinkle, but we could feel it on our heads.

And then it rained for most of the morning, also that fine drizzle.


I found this Praying Mantis warming itself on the black paintwork of the Mazda-rati in the early morning light. It’s the first of its kind that I’ve ever seen and its features were amazing, from the banded green and white rings on its legs, to the feathery antenna and the horn on the top of its head.

After stopping in Kenhardt for a late brunch (for which I had a vetkoek filled with curried mince, and black coffee) and to buy a couple of steel dinner plates because Steph didn’t like the plastic ones we’d packed, we headed for the Orange River Valley (ORV), Keimoes, Kakamas and, ultimately, Augrabies National Park where we would meet up with Johan, Mariet and Anna. They were driving in from Richards Bay to join us for the Kalahari leg of the trip.


I saw this horse standing next to a “Kokerboom” (Quiver Tree) to shelter from the drizzle. When I fed it an apple, it spat it out as it had probably never tasted something as sweet before. The Quiver Tree gets its name from the way the Xhoisan arrows used to stand out of their arrow quivers.


The ORV is a wine-producing region and due to the mostly dry nature of the weather, the day heat is good for ripening and sweetening the grapes. Their wine, IMO, is better than most of the famous Stellenbosch and Paarl wines.

We stop off in Keimoes to take photos of the old waterwheel, which back in the old days before pumps, was used to move water in the irrigation canal to water the vines. The man-made canal is about 100km long and feeds many of the farms in the region, and lies almost horizontal, therefore requiring the waterwheel to move the water in the canal otherwise it would stagnate.

That done, we head off through Kakamas, another one-horse town and through its single traffic light which, this time, is working. When I last passed through Kakamas about twelve years ago, it was either not working or had been switched off for the weekend.


Stand by for Episode 2, coming soon...

Kgalagadi Safari Photos

Ok folks, here are the photos. I hope you have a Facebook profile, otherwise I don't think you'll be able to view them.

Let me know if you don't and I'll make another plan...

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=141367&id=538712823&saved#!/album.php?aid=141367&id=538712823&ref=mf

Happy 90th Birthday Granny Douglas...

It was my Gran's 90th birthday recently, in fact just before we went away on safari (pics and journal to follow soon, promise).

As a tribute, my sister drew up a document with some photos, some personal history and some quotations straight from Gran's mouth.

When I'd heard that my dad had called my sister up in tears after reading it, I wondered what it was that could have made the old man become emotional as it is very unlike him.

So, when I got back from safari, there was a parcel notice waiting for me and I knew my copy had arrived, so I went to pick it up and decided to have a Wimpy breakfast and a read of the tribute. Needless to say, when I got to a certain point, as you will read below, I started sniffling too and I think I got a couple of strange looks from the other Wimpy customers.

I've copied the text straight from the original text as drawn up by my sister, so see if you can find the place where we both started choking back the tears...


... I am 90 today, 15th April 2010, and this is the story of my life so far, as told to Christine & Angela...

Childhood

- I was born on 15th April 1920 on a Croft in Port Nalauchaig, Arisaig.
- Port Nalauchaig is Gaelic for “Port of the Mice”.
- My maiden name was Macdonald.
- I was brought up in Arisaig in the Scottish Highlands by my grandparents, Angus and Catherine Macdonald.
- The name of the house we lived in, Port Nalauchaig, was changed to Cullen View after the renovation in 1937. The name was changed when we had a guest staying with us and he said it should be called Cullen View because of the beautiful view across the water to the Cullen Hills on the Isle of Skye.
- When my uncles did the renovations, we got a bathroom put in. Electricity was put in in 1947 and Granddad’s first comment was “How do we reach up that high to blow out the light at the top of the stairs?”.
- My mother, Mary Ann Macdonald, lived mostly on the Isle of Arran, where she worked in service on a Croft as a housekeeper. I spent my school holidays with her on High Clachalig Farm in Arran.
- I walked about 6 miles a day to St. Mary’s School in Arisaig, sometimes barefoot. That’s the only school I went to. I left school when I was 14 years old.
- Miss Gillies was my teacher – she was a bitch. She gave you the strap for nothing. She’s in heaven now – or maybe hell, I don’t know.
- My head master’s name was Simon Macdonald. He was a Lewis man. (From the Isle of Lewis).
- The nearest Secondary School was miles away in Fort William, so I just stayed at St Mary’s.
- I remember I had an eggcup for an inkwell at the school.
- When I started school, I couldn’t speak English, I only spoke Gaelic at home, you see.
- I attended St Mary’s Roman Catholic Church, Arisaig. Father McNeill was the priest.
- There was plenty to do when I was young. There was work looking after the animals on the Croft.
- I regularly milked the cows. Fresh warm milk from a cow is lovely.
- We had sheep and black & white border collies, Billy, Bessie and Smart, to herd the sheep and cows. Collies are beautiful and good protecting dogs. Smart was my best dog – a pedigree.
- I collected eggs from our hens. Newborn chickens were separated from their parents and brought back to them when they were big enough to follow them safely.
- I had pet rabbits too.
- Later in life, I still love animals. I remember a black and white collie, Fruchin, and a Labrador, Bracken, both from Arran. Fruchin is Gaelic for “heather” and came from Arran.
- I did a lot of cooking and baking, and made bread in a range oven. We grew our own vegetables and I liked gardening.
- I would walk to Morar where my first cousin, Morag Gillies, lived. There is a lovely beach at Morar with miles of white sand.
- I often walked the 12 miles to Mallaig, and from there I went fishing in the Atlantic with my uncle Angus. We caught mackerel, herring and flounders. I could catch salmon from the boat with a rod, and trout from rivers. The boatyard belonged to the Henderson's. I was always welcome there. Elsie, my step sister, married Duncan Henderson.
- There was time for fun too. I had a Macdonald of Clanranald kilt and I wore it when I danced the Highland Fling and the Sword Dance at the Highland Games in Morar and Mallaig.
- There was other dancing too. I liked the Quadrilles, Eightsome Reels and the Lancers – but best of all, I liked Strip the Willow.
- There were some sad times as well. One Friday, I danced all night with the local boys. They went out fishing on Saturday and were never seen again. The boat sank. The sea feeds you, but it is cruel.
- My mother was from a family of 6 children: Alan, Mary Ann, Johnnie, Bella, Flora and Angus.
- When I was nine Nurse Thompson from Stobhill Hospital in Glasgow brought us a little girl to bring up, Ina Gray, who was 6 months old. Ina’s father had died and her mother could not care for her children. Ina’s brothers and sisters’ names were John, James, Peter, Margaret and Robert Gray. The older children lived with Uncle Alan but Ina was the youngest so Uncle Alan asked if we could take her. Uncle Alan lived in Drumdugh, Arisaig.
- When I was twelve, Nurse Thompson brought us another little girl, Elsie Reynolds, who was 11 months old. Both girls were brought up by my granny, but I did most of the cooking. Elsie married Duncan Henderson from Mallaig, Ina married Eric Hancock from London. Ian and Eric live in Cullen View now.
- I have a half sister, Margaret McIvor, who is eighteen years younger than me. She lives in Arran. Her husband’s name was George. He was from Lewis.
- Katie “Fach” is my aunty. Her maiden name and married name are the same – Macdonald. She married uncle Angus, my mother’s youngest brother.
- In 1940 I had to leave Arisaig to go and work for the War Effort. I went to British Aluminium at Fort William. What a shock that was!
- I drove a ‘loco’ which is a steam tank on wheels. Aluminium powder is mixed with water and boiled in the furnace until it becomes liquid. I transferred this to my ‘loco’ and moved it around the plant to where the ingots were made. It was scary until you got used to it, mostly because of the flames that came out the back.
- My first love was Bobby French, a soldier. He left me for another.

Married Life
- I met my husband at a dance. His name was George Wishart Small Douglas. He was born in Edinburgh on 6th February 1920.
- George had lovely blue eyes.
- George was a Commando in the Cameron Highlanders, and was billeted at Rubanna Lodge, which belonged to the Nicholson family.
- The nicest tartan you can get is the Cameron Highlander’s Regimental Tartan. It is yellow, red and green.
- I came to Edinburgh to marry George. We were married on 10th June 1942 at Richmond Church, Craigmillar. The Minister’s name was Mr Hutchison.
- My family treated me as an outcast because I married out of my faith.
- On my wedding day I wore a royal blue costume and a wee hat with a brim.
- When I came to Edinburgh, I first worked in the Royal Infirmary at Lauriston as a cleaner. Later I worked in the Rubber Mill, where I made rubber piping.
- My mother-in-law, Catherine Douglas, was a lovely woman who looked after me. She was a nurse and delivered all my children at home, except for my last one, Margaret. I could not have managed without my mother-in-law.
- My father-in-law was a butcher. His name was Reginald James Douglas (same as my son).
- Our own first house in Edinburgh was in Waverley Buildings in 1942, near the Magdalene Chapel in the Cowgate. It was a big change from the Highlands! Reginald, George and Alan were born in this house.
- After that we moved to 4 Broomhouse Gardens East where all my other children were born.
- In 1960 we moved to 94 Stenhouse Street West where I lived for 27 years.
- Through the years I have also lived in Hailsland Park, Murryburn, Calder Grove and Calder Drive and in 2006 I moved back to Stenhouse Street West – where I now live with Felix, my cat.
- I had one child every year for a long time. In the end I had ten children, although one, Helen, died when she was five years old.
- George and I grew our own vegetables. I loved having a garden.
- George worked as a butcher with Munro’s and later as a bus conductor. We managed fine.
- Redgie and his wife, Eleanor, emigrated to South Africa. I don’t think I’ll see Redgie again on this earth.
- For years I made a dumpling at Christmas for each one of my family. I made them to my granny’s favourite recipe and everyone wanted one. I also made all my own black bun, shortbread, etc. I was good at scones too. I don’t bake any more as I no longer have a cooker.

My Children
- Redgie, being the first born, was the favourite. He was a good laddie.
- Dode was a lovable rogue. He spent Christmases in Soughton Prison because he liked their 3 course dinner.
- Alan was clever at school. He brought home certificates.
- Alex was very shy and quiet except when he burnt my bed with his cigarette.
- Helen died when she was 5 of silent Pneumonia. She was a tomboy and stood up for everyone.
- Anne was a blue baby at birth. We had to rush her to the hospital to have her blood changed. Anne was George’s favourite.
- Eddie has his trade as a stone mason. He was the first to buy his own house.
- James loves animals and birds. He used to leave home with a carrier bag when he got a row – but only went as far as the car park where he’d hide behind a car for a little while, then come home again.
- Christine looks after everyone – just like my mother-in-law, after whom she is named. She looks after me day-to-day and I really appreciate it.
- Margaret was the only one born in a Hospital so that I could get sterilised straight afterwards. Margaret was a sweet bairn.


Retirement Years

- Tom McFarlane worked as a train driver and had a dog called Dusty. He had a car and took me all over. We also went to France once and got stranded and had to spend a night in the railway station! He had a life-long railway pass.
- My pal, Archie Cameron, was from Fort William. I went to the same school as him. We met again in the Club 85. He was my close friend. He died of cancer.
- Felix, my cat, protects me. She has a boy’s name, I know. I got her as a kitten from my granddaughter, Amanda’s cat. The wee thing looked like Felix the cat from the television and I didn’t realise she was female until the vet told me. It was too late to change her name then. Felix is a great pal to me. She sleeps with me and if I get up to go to the toilet during the night, Felix sits at the bathroom door and waits for me, then sees me back to my bed. She’s rare and warm, just like a hot water bottle.

Did You Know?...

- I panic unless I have my keys, handbag and walking stick near me at all times.
- Whisky is the “Water of Life”. The Gaelic word for whisky is Ish-kabe.
- My favourite colour is light blue.
- We always washed in the sea, and I don’t really like hot water. Cold water is healthier.
- Autumn is the best season – it is the shooting season.
- My favourite music is Scottish Music. I particularly enjoy Kenneth McKellar, Andy Stewart and Alistair McDonald.
- I wear a silver link bracelet. Eddie bought me that from his first week’s wages.
- We were fed porridge twice a day, for breakfast and dinner, and I now hate hate hate porridge!


Some other family photos





Sisturrrrr....as usual, you've done us proud with what you did for Gran...thank you...xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Gone for the Holidays

I would love to say "Gone Fishing for 3 Weeks" but we're in fact going off to the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park for about 10 days, starting on Monday. This is going to be our first decent holiday since moving to the Cape almost 18months ago (can't believe time has gone by so quickly).

Our trip includes a couple of loops into the Botswana side of the park, areas which have almost no infrastructure, so we'll be shitting in holes and showering from a plastic bag with holes in it for those parts of the trip. It should be interesting to say the least.

I've kitted out the bakkie with a second battery system, bought a new camping fridge/freezer, tent, and a whole bunch of other camping accessories.

As a result of the trip, I'll be posting even less than I have been for a while. I'll try and take a journal on the trip, though, so that I can bore the pants off you all again.

I'll be taking two cameras and a DVD camera as well, so lookout for the story and pics sometime into the future.



While I'm gone, take care, y'all...xx

Boats, planes, heli's and swells...

I woke up this morning feeling my age and every sore joint in my body, after having spent 12hrs on a bouncing boat on the NSRI exercise at Hout Bay yesterday.

I was up at 03h00, off to the Kommetjie base to meet up with the guys and then to cruise around from Simonstown to HB in a Butt Cat, from about 04h30, courtesy of my StatCom who was going to use it as the Press Boat for the day and he needed crew. Let me tell you, gusts up to 40knots at Cape Point, head-on sea and driving spray, it was not pleasant. In fact, we broke a part of the boat called the Bow Flair on the nose which deflects water at the bow. A huge wave crashed into us and decided it didn't like the flair and tried to break it off.

The rest of that leg of the trip was relatively uneventful thanks to a following swell once we got around the Point, and the dawn made it all that more pleasant.

Hout Bay and the exercise was great. Calm seas, light winds and warm weather.

The exercise went off reasonably well involving the NSRI from bases between Kommetjie and Melkbos, SAAF helicopters, Metro and other medical agencies and a bunch of other folks. I got some great photos which I have uploaded a few here. Our boat was full of photographers snapping multiple shots of everything from heli's, to seals and even the NSRI logo on the back of my jacket. One doos from the Beeld got seasick and didn't even apologise when I fished his cap from the water after it got blown off when he went up to sit on the flying bridge...what a knob.

After the debriefing, my StatCom decided to take a few of the landlubbers out to Seal Island on a jolly and, not wanting to sit around doing bugger-all, I went with them. That is probably the last time I go there. I knew seals are smelly critters, but the stink from that island would peel chrome off a pole. Sheesh...

After dropping the folks back at HB, we decided to refuel and head back to Simonstown as the weather was still nice. Little did we know it was only nice on that side of the peninsula. As we got to Scarborough, the wind picked up again and the swell came in hard and fast, again kicking up spray so that we could hardly see out of the windows.

At Cape Point, we went through some swell that made the night before feel like ripples on a pond. Without clear visibility, I was watching through the starboard side screen for waves that would curl and break just before they got to us so that we could ease off on the throttles and let the swell move under us. If we hadn't done that, the swells were steep enough to surf and we could have ploughed the nose into a wave in front of us, probably causing us to submarine and potentially broaching us to the swell which wold have just flipped us over. We were taking no chances, especially as the StatCom had his 9yr old son on board.

Anyway, the last leg from inside the point to Simonstown went off pretty quick thanks to the following swell and we eventually tied up at just after 16h30. I enjoy the ocean and being on it, but I don't think I have ever been as happy to set foot on a floating quay...

After cleaning up, I still had to go back to the base and pick up the Mazda-rati and head home for a shower before friends came around for dinner.

Needless to say, I am sore all over this morning, having held on for dear life for most of the round trip, so....once again, apologies for not coming to have fun with you at Sparks Bay. I hope everyone had a great time and won some kewl prizes...and enjoyed a few cold ones with some new mates...

Speak to you all soon again, though perhaps not for the next three weeks as we are off in a week's time for a two week stay in the Kgalagadi Park on holiday...

South Africa needs Malema

I was emailed this article this morning, by SWMSBO. At first I thought, yeah right, we need that fucker like we need another George W Bush. But then I thought about it over a sandwich and realised, on the one hand, that we actually do need him, for the reasons below, but on the other hand we need him to disappear into obscurity, like yesterday.

I have no idea who "Jono" is (other than being the author of the article), and I don't know where it was published. I just felt it should be read and deliberated by the masses...

by Jono - O
2010-03-24 07:26
Since the first time I heard Julius Malema preach hate I have harboured a deep seeded resentment toward him and his alienation tactics, hate speech, mindless babble and other forms of bigotry only fit for the 12th century. For the first time in 14 years I became a vocal critic of the ANC and what it has become.

I always gave them the benefit of the doubt until this little egotistical megalomaniac came along. Like many peace loving South Africans I was gobsmacked by the cheek of this man parading as the self proclaimed future leader of the ANC and the country with all the answers.

The sudden realisation that we actually need Malema ironically dawned on me on Human Rights Day. Malema is exactly what this country needs. He is the catalyst to the systematic implosion of the ANC. He will systematically weather down the little goodness the ANC has left. He is like a time bomb planted in the middle of Luthuli House.

Malema through all his juvenile ranting and sociopathic public tantrums, personal attacks and publicly played out vendettas is destroying the reputation of the ANC quicker than any opposition party could ever dream of doing. He is systematically diluting the credibility of the ANC with every silly word carved out of his "struggling" mind. He is making a mockery of all the ANC's hard fought freedoms, their laws, constitution, leaders, elders, alliance partners and all Mandela wanted for South Africa . Zuma eventually publically denounced rogue members attacking other politicians in the media and the very next day Malema verbally attacked the PAC and the Boer. This shows how much he cares about what our president says.

Malema is a rogue pathogen and the unfortunate host in this case is the ANC. By definition pathogens harm their hosts by producing toxins that promote infection and illness. Malema and his self serving prophecy are toxic to the ANC and making it sicker and weaker by the day.

The government seems unwilling or unable to stop him and with each passing day he sucks more blood out of the ANC and spits it at the feet of the true heroes of the struggle and its alliance partners. A struggle he speaks of like he was there. He was 13 in 1994. What could he possibly know about the struggle?

Isn't it ironic that at the peak of Malema 's hate speech and pointless rhetoric the opposition parties are talking aim and forming an alliance? It's as if they sense the rumblings of weakness and vulnerability in the ruling party. Never before has the ANC been dogged with so many controversies, from a presidential love child to vast corruption and illegal tenders.

As a tax payer I am disgusted at the opulent behaviour of the ANC and its members at the expense of the people of this country. The hypocrisy is preposterous and unbecoming of any government, let alone that of a poor third world country with huge socio-economic inequalities, spiralling crime levels, highest HIV infection rates on earth and mass corruption.

The hypocrisy of Malema also shows the depth of his understanding of the term Boer. The very same "Boers" that he wants to shoot are the farmers that farm the chickens that make the Nandos that he feeds on daily.

I hope others incensed by Malema can share in this sentiment. It took a lot of soul searching for me to unearth this understanding and with it peace of mind. So don't pack for Australia just yet, stick around a little longer and watch this beast go down in a blaze of glory. Malema has a job to do and we need to let him do it. In a couple of years he will be history. His thoughtless words and provocations will bring the ANC down, just like the struggle songs spurred the demise of white oppressive rule.

History is what it is. The future is now. Yes, we do need to remember the fundamental principles that liberated South Africa , but not so we hate and resent our oppressors but so we can learn and design our future through compassion, tolerance and positive community input and political leadership.

Malema is a racist, his words and actions make it so. We all know where racism got us in the first place. Songs about death, or killing members of our diverse society where everyone is offered the same protection by the constitution is wrong and unconstitutional.

So instead of trying to shut him up and fearing him, rather encourage him. Your emotions just like mine are wasted on "Mal Malema". The quicker he can destroy the ANC and its alliances the quicker a new government can fix this mess that is South Africa 2010. The word is out that South Africa 's first real all inclusive opposition party is in the wings. Good things await us, we all deserve it.

I am Just a Biker...

I was browsing the web, looking for the date of a bike rally near to where we stay, and stumbled upon a Bikers Website. It didn't look like much of a website, but something down the righthand side caught my eye...

A poem...

A poem? By a biker? Can't be, I hear you telling yourself...

Not just a poem, a hard-hitting true-to-life story...read for yourself...


Just a Biker

I saw you hug your purse closer to you in the grocery store line.
But you didn't see me put an extra R50.00 in the collection plate last Sunday.

I saw you pull your child closer when we passed each other on the sidewalk.
But you didn't see me playing Santa at the local orphanage.

I saw you change your mind about going into the restaurant when you saw my bike parked out front.
But you didn't see me attending a meeting to raise more money for the disabled.

I saw you roll up your window and shake your head when I rode by.
But you didn't see me riding behind you when you flicked your cigarette butt out the car window.

I saw you frown at me when I smiled at your children.
But you didn't see me, when I took time off from work to run toys to the homeless.

I saw you stare at my long hair.
But you didn't see me and my friends shave our heads for breast cancer.

I saw you roll your eyes at our Leather jackets and gloves.
But you didn't see me and my brothers donate our old ones to those that had none.

I saw you look in fright at my tattoos.
But you didn't see me cry as my children where born or have their name written over and in my heart.

I saw you change lanes while rushing off to go somewhere.
But you didn't see me going home to be with my family.

I saw you, complain about how loud and noisy our bikes can be.
But you didn't see me when you were changing the CD and drifted into my lane.

I saw you yelling at your kids in the car.
But you didn't see me pat my child's hands knowing she was safe behind me.

I saw you talking on your cell as you drove down the road.
But you didn't see me squeeze my wife's leg when she told me to take the next turn.

I saw you race down the road in the rain.
But you didn't see me get soaked to the skin so my son could have the car to go on his date.

I saw you run the yellow light just to save a few minutes of time.
But you didn't see me trying to turn.

I saw you cut me off because you needed to be in the lane I was in.
But you didn't see me leave the road.

I saw you, waiting impatiently for my friends to pass.
But you didn't see me. I wasn't there.

I saw you go home to your family. But you didn't see me.
Because I died that day you cut me off.

I was just a biker. A person with friends and a family.
But you didn't see me.

ALERT THE FUCKIN MEDIA!!!!!!!!

YEAH MAN!!!!

I'M TYPING THIS POSTING OUT IN CAPITAL LETTERS TO SHOW THE WORLD JUST HOW FUCKIN EXCITED I AM RIGHT AT THIS MOMENT.

I JUST GOT THE FOLLOWING EMAIL IN FROM THE LAWYER OF THE GUY WHO'S BUYING OUR HOUSE IN JOBURG. SOME OF YOU MAY KNOW THAT WE HAVE BEEN TRYING TO SELL THIS HOUSE SINCE WE MOVED TO THE CAPE 16 MONTHS AGO, AND HAVE BEEN DISAPPOINTED ON THREE PREVIOUS OCCASIONS WITH OFFERS FALLING THROUGH.

"We confirm that the sum of RXXXXXX was paid into our trust account by the purchaser in lieu of the bank guarantee. As such, all the terms of the agreement of sale has been complied with and we are ready to proceed herein. We are requesting S A Homeloans to provide us with discharge figures for the existing mortgage bond."

RIGHT NOW I'M SO HAPPY I COULD GO OUT AND GRAB THE FIRST BOTTLE OF CAPTAIN MORGAN I CAN GET MY HANDS ON AND DOWN THE ENTIRE CONTENTS AND TO HELL WITH THE CONSEQUENCES.

YEEEEEE FUCKIN HAAAAAAAAA.....

FedEx has gone to the Birds...

Wow...I feel so honoured that FedEx would want to give me 600,000 pounds of starlings. That must equate to just about the entire population of the birds and I can hold the world to ransom for them...

In the words of Cartman (he of South Park fame), "Goddammit, these scammers are so thick and just piss me off!! Kiss my ass, assholes!!"

DATE: 07th Feb., 2010. FedEx Delivery Service. We awaiting your urgent respond to enable us confirmed your shipping address and make shipment of your registered package. Content; Bank Draft of £600,000 GBP (Six Hundred Thousand Pounds Starlings). Reg .Number: P-01-402761625 /Reg Date: 06/02/2010. The Package was registered by your friend currently undergoing survey project with Construction Company in West Africa, Nigeria as valentine Gift. We are sending you this email because the package was registered on a Special Order and is mean to be deliver TWO working days. All we require you to do now is to contact our Delivery Department for immediate dispatch of the package to your residential address. For your information, Shipping charges as well as Insurance fees have been paid by your colleague. The only payment you are to make is £210 GBP to the FedEx Delivery Department for Customs delivery clarification Form. Please contact the delivery department with the details given below: Contact Person: Mr. Richard Raynor Confirmation Email: www.fedexdelivery@live.com Tel: +2348071208793. Kindly complete the below form. This is mandatory to reconfirm your Postal address for clarification. FULL NAMES: TELEPHONE: POSTAL ADDRESS: Zip/Postal code: CITY: STATE: COUNTRY: NOTE: As soon as your detail is received, our delivery team will give you the necessary payment procedure for Customs. After your payment, the attach Delivery Tracking Number would be send to you and we shall dispatch your package immediately. Ensure to fill the above form and make your payment to enhance urgent service. Yours faithfully, Mrs. .Mary Maxwell © Federal Express Corporation All rights reserved. © 1996-2010 FedEx.

Fishman and Woodwork

Fishman was going off on his blog about not being able to fish. I know what he means cos I haven't been able to hit the water for the last three weekends due to other commitments.

He was also going off about not being able to do any of his second passion...woodwork, so I thought I'd post a couple of pics of my latest woodworking toy to perhaps get him in the mood again.

I was browsing the Cape Ads on Monday and came across an ad for a "good condition, secondhand DeWalt DW320 radial arm saw". I remember thinking "yeah, right" and wanted to carry on browsing until the price caught my eye. I've seen them priced up to R11k new, R5k or R6k for "good, secondhand", so it was no wonder this price caught my eye.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I spoke to the seller, made up my mind to go and have a look at the saw, drove an hour to a little town called Darling (which, if you closed your eyes to fart hard, you would drive right through without even knowing you'd passed it - the town, not the wind), took one look, turned it on, agreed to the price, and shook the guy's hand on the deal, loaded up the saw, made the internet payment, then drove an hour back to Cape Town very satisfied with myself.

Anyway, these are a couple of pics of a similar saw (haven't taken any of mine yet as I have to dust it off and put a new table on it)...






So...to piss Fishman off, what did I pay for the saw?


R1, 100..................I kid you not!!!! Bargain of a lifetime!!!

Only in Australia....priceless!!!

Dear Mr President Jacob Zuma

An article written by a black person, presumably a woman though I can never tell by names, though I'm not sure where it was published, though it might have been last week's sunday Times Letters Page...

After having read the front page story of the Sunday Times (31/01/2010), I feel compelled to write to you as this ordinary citizen that I am. Because I am a commoner, my judgement of your actions could be regarded as disrespect. Equally you might be indulging in all these sordid acts because you feel that you cannot be questioned and brought to book.

As a young man I have an interest in the way in which those in power are behaving, so as to ensure that we have good, moral and ethical leaders to look upon. A public figure who does not inspire confidence or do not conduct themselves in a manner that seek to inspire development of society, should be eliminated from the limelight and sent into the deepest of corners so that their misleading acts are shunned. To me you happen to be such an individual.

In your address during your inauguration and also in your first State of the Nation address, you emphasised greatly on moral regeneration. The reason why religion has seemingly failed to produce members that embody the values taught in religious institutions is because the preachers themselves are failing to be upright leaders who live out what they preach. You are such a preacher to me.

Given your past record that displays you as a man who is easily tempted by indulging in sexual intercourse, it is very difficult for me to throw water over the claims made by the Sunday Times. To me it is irrelevant that the person you impregnated is the daughter of Dr Irvin "The Iron Duke" Khoza, I would still feel the same way even if it was just yet another woman. If this baby was born under normal circumstances, it means that you must have slept with this lady around January 2009. During the same time you had already paid Lobola for Thobeka Madiba-Zuma and you were planning your wedding day with her. At the same time you were already having the pleasure of being attended to by two wives. I suppose given that you were busy campaigning for the 2009 General Elections, the challenges that you faced couldn’t be accommodated by your wives, you needed to find solace and release your masculine energy on another woman outside wedlock.

What nauseates me the most is the fact that this lady got pregnant, meaning you had unprotected sex yet again. To me it is clear that you have unprotected sex with your wives, because you do it so easily with "omakhwapheni". It means you are a risk to your wives, because you seem to be fishing for HIV, so that you can take the catch home and distribute it evenly amongst them. Unless there is preventive medication for HIV that you have and we the ordinary people do not have access to.

The Zulu Kingdom should be ashamed at how you have paraded their culture of polygamy, a culture that is in fact to me very demeaning of women. To me it symbolises true qualities of chauvinism and patriarchy, whereby if a man is not satisfied with one woman, then they can go get another. Meanwhile society would vilify a woman who would take a second man. Polygamy also promotes cheating on your wife, because you must first know the second wife, well in your case sixth, intimately on stolen moments away from your wife. So during that time you are lying to your wife or wives claiming to be seeing no one besides them and even to God, whom you made such a pact with when getting married.

Polygamy reduces women to objects that are used to just satisfy the egos of many men out there, who see having many women as a sense of superiority and achievement. To me this is a very small minded sense of thinking.

I cannot have you preach morality to me when you partake in such disgusting acts that make me feel if only I was not a South African. When a sex scandal broke off about Mr Bill Clinton, he had to step down as President of the USA. The President of the World Bank stepped down after such allegations were tabled against him. However to you it is just yet another day another dollar and nothing will happen, because you are hiding behind tradition and using it to camouflage your helpless sexuality.

You are a man who does not respect women clearly, a man who does not believe in treating your wives with the best respect they deserve. I doubt maKhumalo is happily married to you, but she is probably fearful of what shall become of her if she were to leave you. It is unfortunate that the majority of the people in your organisation find your acts acceptable; it goes to show how the morals of the ANC have become fragmented over the years.

You occupy the highest seat in our land and many people will find a way of using your acts to justify their mistakes and atrocious behaviours which resemble yours. You are not a beacon of hope to me, but rather that one of disaster.

It is impossible that you could raise all your 20 children, so it means that you promote unstructured families whereby kids grow up with single parents. You promote and justify cheating. You promote for society to discredit the three pillars of fighting HIV, because you do not Abstain, you do not get to Be Faithful, you do not Condomize.

What are you good for? Absolutely nothing. You are shaming our country and making it seem as if we are unable to be led by principled leaders.

You are a health risk to your wives, you are a financial risk to the taxpayers who must pay for your opulence and you still pledge your support to communists.

I ask of you to step down as President, before you turn South Africa into a quagmire that resembles your sexual life and its animalistic behaviours.

Written by: Lukhona Mnguni

"When do the whiteys have to start worrying?"

Those were the words asked by Andre Snyman, the creator of eBlockwatch, a security-conscious website and organisation, aimed at protecting people of all colours in SA against criminals.

What Andre does on eBlockwatch is commendable, but he has now become vocal in his criticism of things "non-white", and quite rapidly at that, I might add. I never expected this sort of commentary from him, so am quite concerned about it.

Anyway, have a read at what the black wife of a SA ambassador to the US said to him on the flight between Cape Town and Shit Towne...

http://www.therichmarksentinel.com/rs_articles_contributors.asp?conid=66&recid=1308

That political time is upon is, I fear. Let's hope it's not going to happen...

Hey Lady...

Hurry up and hang out your washing. We need a collective shit...




I couldn't resist taking that photo of the pigeons sitting on our washing line...

Apparently, the article published earlier is in the media...

Have a look here for the full article...

Thanks to Fishman for bringing it to my attention...

If this article is true, the author is a fuckin' genius...

The underlying article was emailed to me and I have no way of checking its authenticity...

Sandile Memela is an author and chief director for marketing and public relations at the Department of Arts and Culture. He writes in his personal capacity:

For almost 30 years I have debated the subject of matric results with many different people from different walks of life. One thing that strikes those with eyes to see is that white students continue to dominate and outshine the ranks of matric super-achievers followed by so-called Indians.

There is a perception that African students are the worst performers. If you look at the faces of smiling and happy pupils who have obtained more than six distinctions in matric this year, they are mostly white.

Of course, that tells us something not about who has superior intelligence but who is willing to put their shoulder to the wheel.

After all, the greatest determinant of how many distinctions a student is going to get at the end of the year is the amount of work they are willing to put in.

One thing that has struck me over the last 15 years is that African students seem to be more interested in song, dance, fashion and booze than self-discipline, focus and hard work.

Of course this is a generalisation that makes the innocent suffer but one needs only visit festivals, night clubs and other places of entertainment to find out which direction African students channel their energies.

The reality of the situation is that white and Indian pupils are too few a minorities for them to dominate matric results.

It is time that we asked a hard question of African students: how long are they going to depend on affirmative action to make headway in life?

Of course, it is a justifiable government policy to demand that tertiary institutions make special provision for enrolling African students to be enrolled at universities. But who should be given special treatment between a super-performing white student and a time-wasting African student with low marks?

I would be wary to answer, without any reservation, and with the deepest conviction of my heart and soul that the opportunity should go to an African student.

It is time that special focus was put on matric results and the performance of African students at high school level and beyond.

Since 1994 African students have had the power to choose to be great super-achievers or mediocre talents. Their parents and government continue to make huge sacrifices huge amounts of money for them to attend the best former whites-only schools under the best conditions.

It is just an excuse for us to accept that African students face racism, victimisation and that we continue to blame white teachers and principals for their poor performance.

Fundamentally, African students are the product of what they choose to be.

Their matric results have very little to do with their genes or the upbringing and environment they live in.

Certainly, the issue of language, genes and culture, if you like, often influence how students learn but this does not predetermine their results. The excuse that African students are so-called Historically Disadvantaged Individuals has been bandied about for far too long, now.

The essence of the difference in matric results between White, Indian and African students is simply a matter of self-discipline, focus and hard work.

It is time more was demanded of African pupils rather than encourage them to continue to believe that they future is secured simply because of their skin colour.

This whole attitude of entitlement makes it easy for conservatives to say that affirmative action is reverse racism.

African pupils make choices based on the values they learn from their families and communities.

African leadership and management at family and institutional level is, largely, a product of a culture of entitlement. This misleads the youth. The ability of pupils to reinvent themselves and surpass all expectations in matric performance is what this country needs, especially from African youth.

The best gift that the white and Indian youth have given this country is the example of focused, disciplined and hard working young people. Let us not discriminate against them, later, to make way for African youth who are not a source of pride for this nation. It is time that merit and a willingness to work harder were the new criteria to decide who gets an opportunity in the New South Africa and who does not.

African pupils must choose whether they want to succeed or perish as fools.

If they choose the latter, they must face the consequences of their own choices. The future of Africa deserves better quality leadership than our youth are putting on the table.

Things are going swimmingly...

or not, if you were the unfortunate Zimbabwean tourist who happened to get taken by what appears to be a great white shark, on Monday, in Fish Hoek just around the corner from us.

My Bruthafromanothamutha sent me this comment on a previous posting I'd made, obviously to get me to post something new or to let him know I'm still alive...

"I see you were busy the last 24 hrs........ http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601116&sid=a7TUi7R6ascY"

In reality, the only involvement from our NSRI base was when we were asked to launch our small boat in the surf zone to see if we could detect any remains of the poor bastard who got taken. That was on Tuesday evening.

Last night, Wednesday, we were supposed to have our monthly base meeting at which the StatCom gives us a run-down of what's happened in the last month, number of rescues, progress with our new base, who's screwing who at head office, etc.

This month, however, Ian was asked by the authorities to meet with the family of the victim, probably to describe what had been done to recover what's left (if anything) of the bloke. I don't envy him the task as it cannot be easy to explain this sort of thing to distraught family members, especially after something like this. "Oh, he was flailing around in the water, people saw him get launched out of the water by the force of the attack, the shark came for him twice, people could see the terror on his face........"...you know what I mean. Ian, though, is the ultimate diplomat and an experienced medical rescue professional and I'm sure, though he would have been choked with emotion, he would have handled it with total dignity and poise, leaving the family with the knowledge that everyone that could, tried their most to save the guy.

What happened was unfortunate and sad, as has been said a million times over on this and previous attacks. Humans, however, do not belong in the ocean and when they do, they become part of the foodchain to some big scary monsters, not just great whites. That's the bottom line and this time the guy was unlucky to be in the wrong place at the wrong time...

Welcome Anne-Mariewithadash...

Long time blog reader and lurker A2Z has bowed to pressure from someone and created her own blog.

It's about time, although I can't speak too much seeing as I don't post much these days either.

In any regard...welcome to the blogging world. Enjoy the experience and keep us updated on your trips between Qatar and Canada.

The future is so bright, I gotta sit in the shade...

Angus, one of the guys from the Cape Town fishing forum, and I got talking the other day about how hot it was on the beach and how we should look at making up some sort of shade for the camping chairs.

I went one better...

I'd been shopping with mother in Longbeach Mall in the morning and had tried a couple of places for tent guy ropes and pegs, maybe even a small shade, but no-one had anything. Thinking I would have to go to the "other side of the mountain", I left it at that for a while.

I am also in the process of making an oak table and after I'd finished laminating some planks, had some time to kill. In the corner of the gargae, there was a camping chair that had broken at the plastic joints which, to fix, I took a couple of pieces of 2mm cable and crimps and fixed the chair. I now have a kewl fishing chair.

I also noticed that I still had our old gazebo which, during a camping trip to Morgans Bay, had had a couple of poles broken by a very strong NE wind. Next to that was something I thought I had got rid of a while ago...the Rally Tent from my old caravan.

Needless to say, my mind went into overdrive and in almost no time, I had come up with this solution to the heat...

The Rally Tent wraps perfectly around the canopy and back end of the Mazda-rati, with the tie down ropes looping perfectly around the rear bumper to keep it taught. With the rear window of the canopy open, it holds the canvas in perfect position. Taking three of the old poles from the gazebo, and a few lengths of nylon rope, I rigged the Rally Tent, caravan-style and this is what I came up with.

This is the prototype and now I just have to test it in a strong Cape Doctor...

One Year to the date...

that we arrived in our new home, in Cape Town.

I get asked all the time, "What do you miss about Joburg?", and each time my answer is "Only my friends".

Would we change things and head back up that way? Not in a million years. We are very happy here, the people are great, the weather is sometimes a bit dodgy (but there's nothing you can do about that), there is plenty to do and see.

In fact, if there came a time that the corporation said to us "Move back to Joburg, or find something else to do", guess what? So long, corporation. No second thoughts, it would take me all of about a second to get that out of my mouth. Second thought out of me would be "Now, about that severance package..."

So....one year in Cape Town...who would have guessed? And we love every minute of it...

Who said Huntley was daft?

Recently, a South African citizen applied for political asylum in Canada, citing unrest and uncertainty in the country (well, hellloooooo asshole, it's Africa, uncertainty capital of the fuckin' world).

I believe, however, that I have found the real reason for his fleeing the country...


Fuck me...is that scary or what? Huntley, dude, I don't blame you for running away from that. Actually, you're an asshole. You should have put her out of her misery first, then fucked off to Canada and applied for asylum.

I'm just surprised it took him that long to wake up and discover what he was sleeping next to. She looks like a cross between a sumo wrestler and a circus-act tattoo lady. All that's missing is the wispy beard, but then maybe she shaves every day like the rest of the menfolk around her...

Email Hoaxes move to the next level...

I received this in my Inbox this morning. Obviously the person knows someone who used to work for the Corporation, as how else would they know where to get corporate email addresses?

Email hoaxing should be a death penalty sentance when the person is caught. An example has to be made of one of them. If hackers face lengthy jail sentences for exposing loopholes in corporate internet failures, why should email hoaxers face any different punishment? That said, I believe the hoaxers punishment should be taken to the next level.

Dear Friend,

I Am Ms. Angela Gordon. I Am A United States Citizen And I Am 34 Years Old. I Reside Here In Dripping Springs, Texas And I Am Thinking Of Relocating Since I Am Now Rich.

I Am One Of Those That Took Part In The United Nations Compensation Program In Nigeria Many Years Ago And They Refused To Pay Me. I Had Paid Over $20,000 While In The Us, Trying To Get My Payment But All Was To No Avail.

So I Decided To Travel Down To Nigeria With All My Compensation Documents And I Was Directed To Meet Mrs. Anita Paton, Who Is The Member Of Compensation Program Committee, And I Contacted Her And She Explained Everything To Me.

She Said Who Ever Is Contacting Us Through Emails Are Fake. She Also Took Me To The Paying Bank (ARCB BANK) For The Claim Of My Compensation Payment.

Right Now, I Am The Happiest Woman On Earth Because I Have Received My Compensation Funds Of $5,000,000.00 More Over, Mrs. Anita Paton Showed Me The Full Information Of Those That Are Yet To Receive Their Payments And I Saw Your Email As One Of The Beneficiaries Who Have Not Yet Received The Payment Under Case File 54ac003 And That Is Why I Decided To Email You To Stop Dealing With Those People. They Are Not With Your Fund; They Are Only Making Money Off You.Therefore, I Would Advise You To Contact Mrs. Anita Paton For Assistance And Inform Her That Your Case File Is 54ac003. Contact Her Directly Via The Information Below.

United Nations Compensation Award Program
Name: Mrs. Anita Paton
Phone: +234-802-132-9323

You Really Have To Stop Dealing With Those People That Are Contacting You And Telling You That Your Fund Is With Them Because It Is Not With Them. They Are Only Taking Advantage Of You And They Will Dry You Up Until You Have Nothing.

The Only Money I Paid After I Met Mr. Kelvin Tuner Was Just The Bank Transfer Charges, Which Is Only Normal And Legitimate As It Is In All Banks In The World. So Please Take Note Of That. Mrs. Anita Paton Shall Ensure That You Deal Directly With The Bank (ARCB BANK).

Once Again Stop Contacting Those People. I Advise That You Contact Mrs. Anita Paton So That She Can Help You In The Collection Of Your Transfer Payment Instead Of Dealing With Those Liars That Will Be Turning You Around Asking For Different Kind Of Money To Complete Your Transaction.

Thank You And Be Blessed.

Ms. Angela Gordon.


Here's a response bitch....fuck off and die a slow painful death...

Athens and Cape Town have something in common...

Both are subject to bush fires at the moment.

Coming home from the orifice on Monday evening, we could literally see smoke on the water as the blanket lay over False Bay.

It turns out that the mountain between us and Simons Town was on fire (cause as yet unknown, but presumed to have been caused by "bergies" - tramps - living in the bushes).

The flames came very close to some of the houses built up to the fire break (why do people take that much risk with their homes? bloody idiots) and I'm not sure if any were actually burned. No doubt the local rag will have an article about it in the coming days.

By morning, the flames had been put out but everything was covered in a light layer of ash.

It really is sad to see the way this bush burns and it takes years to recover.

Cape Storm - Tuesday 18th August

These were the view from our lounge window last week...

Thank goodness I was working from home, or else we would have had some seriously unhappy dogs. As it was, I spent the best part of the morning wringing out towels which I had to use to catch the water coming in under the sliding door...

The camera on the Blackberry does not do the weather justice as you can't really see the rain coming down in sheets...




On the Wednesday, I got the landlady's DIY guy to come out and see what could be done about the water coming in under the door and discovered his rates. I've been thinking of starting up a handyman business for a while and at R280/hr, plus cost of materials (no doubt with a "handling fee" added) and R3.50 per kilometre travel, I think it might be a viable business. The estate agent who looks after the house has been asking whether I still wanted to do the handyman thing, as she has a number of jobs to be done and no-one to do them for her. It appears that all the handymen are so busy, they just don't bother getting back to her on the small jobs. I reckon it might be possible to make up to R30k a month at those rates, so maybe it's something I need to do...

This Dog is not Dead...

it is, in fact, just the way Cassie likes to sleep...

Angie rocks Kalk Bay in her Crocs and Socks

Sounding like a very bad Dr Seuss book, my sister (gotta love her) brought down the house (or at least, had me in stitches) when she visited us recently. We went to a nice little restaurant on Kalk Bay Harbour called Polana. At some point through the evening, I noticed she wasn't wearing proper shoes.

This is what she was wearing instead...like a true European touriste...

Not good news, at all...

The text message I got on my phone on Monday afternoon was short and to the point. Not surprising...

It appears that Tamlyn had another scan done yesterday and the results reveal that she has had a miscarriage.

So, I won't be a grandad just yet...

Sorry to hear the sad news, babe...my heart is with you, as usual...

Fishman...

hopefully the Mpame report will get you off my back now...LOL...

Make sure you tell the others about the report.
We need to go fishing/drinking/camping/drinking/drinking again...