A TYPICAL CAPE TOWN WEEKEND, September '09

A TYPICAL CAPE TOWN WEEKEND

I LOVE THIS CITY

Above: Chilling with my cousin

Above: Hitting the dance floor at Springboks

Below: Fun at the local hangout, Rascals

Rash and the best beer ever ... Tafel!

I like ...

Onto Home Bar, my view after a few.

Traffic jams and rainbows

More rainbows from Long Beach, Noordhoek

A brisk walk on Long Beach turned into a photo shoot

Pops, my dad, and I hit the mountains ... the Twelve Apostles.

Views from the 8 hour hike ... hello Cape Town!

Sheeips and Han also came along for the day, of course.

Confused? So were we ...

A different view of Lions Head

Preparing for the two boat dives out from Miller's Point with the boys, hi Deano (above), hi Rayms (below)!

And that's just winter ... just wait for summer time! What's that, Trace (below)? "Hell, yeah!"

"I look good" ... and worried, Rayms. That's my brother, as we do a bit of work in between the fun.

BUS TRAVEL IN PERU, SOUTH AMERICA; August '09

Bus Travel in Peru,
South America


From leaving the pavement, find something as soon as possible to grab onto once setting foot on a local bus. The drivers hardly stop the bus for you to get on anyway so you have to time your entry well. The next challenge once the bus starts accelerating is to walk to a vacant seat, if there is one, without falling over. Once there, before sitting down, challenge number three involves taking your bag off your back, alternating arms to hold on for dear life then aiming your bum onto the seat as the bus continues at speed around corners, through potholes and over speed bumps. Unfortunately, shocks and graceful driving do not feature in Peru.

A further note to those who are brave enough to attempt a bus entrance is to avoid sitting at the back of the bus as every bump sends you flying into the air, no guaranteeing you will land back on the same seat. Many a bruise can be avoided if you follow this instruction.

And becasue I feel it is so important, here is a final tip for travel in Peru. If you are in a hurry and do not want to spend uneccesary time on public transport, just get a taxi. You will pay a bit more but will go directly to your destination instead of driving every street in the village, stopping every ten meters for someone to dis/embark. However, this is a great way to tour an area. You will definItly see the place, if you do not mind the bruises and potential people sitting on your lap as they pile in.

A NIGHT IN A SOUTH AFRICAN AIRPORT, "ALPHA, DELTA, BABA"; April '09

"Alpha, Delta, Baba"

A Night in a South African Airport

Due to circumstances out of my control, I had to reschedule my flight from Johannesburg to Cape Town to one later on in the day. I made it to the airport in good time and checked in with no problems. However, I still managed to miss the rescheduelled flight ... there is just so much to look at on route to the boarding gates (and I might have misheard the boarding time). There were no more flights that night so I decided to get the first flight the following day. Unfortunately, and as my luck would have it, the ticket desk had closed by then and I could only sort out the mess in the morning. I ended up sitting in a coffee shop while my luggage flew to Cape Town. At least the 15 avocados I had strategically packed in my bag did not miss the flight.

Having spent the night in the coffee shop while my bag awaited my arrival in Cape Town, I gratefully made my way to the enquiries desk at 04:15, opening time, to get the first available flight back to Cape Town and hopefully locate my baggage. After waiting for half an hour for everyone to turn on the computers, make tea and catch up on skinner, it was here that I had a moment only South Africans would be able to appreciate. Two African women were in the office. I was asked to produce the reference number for the flight I missed. ADB2FJ7 was what I read from my ticket. The first woman then had to relay this reference to her colleague, which she proceeded to do in an alarmingly loud manner. It was not the volume or the enthusiasm which made me smile, but the words she chose for the first part of my reference, ADB. Whereas others might say “Alpha, Delta, Bravo”, this mama chose “Alpha, Delta, Baba”.

I proceeded to buy a new ticket, made my way into the waiting lounge and enjoyed the sounds of the African morning airport. The coffee shop I was eyeing out was about to open. I edged my way inside saying I was happy to wait for the caffeine which would soon be seeping into my veins while I did some work. The seven staff on the early-bird shift sang and laughed away while doing final chores before the hordes outside placed their orders in a manifestation of tired eyed queues. It became even more entertaining when an extremely well-dressed, attractive dark-skinned lady walked past the glass outside the coffee shop. All seven men gawked like school boys, throwing comments I could not understand at her, confident that the glass would hold their good-humoured appreciativeness of her look.

I only had another half an hour to wait before boarding the airplane. The morning crowds began to fill the passages. I watched the businessmen get their shoes shined while resting their hind ends in comfy leather sofas in the passage. They glanced at their wrist watches impatiently and as soon as the job was done hurried off with an important air about them.

One of the ladies working at the airport came up to me and, after greeting me with respect, told me she was sick. Having been in this situation before, I smiled kindly and informed her that I was not a sangoma (traditional doctor or, as some like to call them, a witch doctor). For the countless time, because of the amount of beaded, earthly jewelry I adorn in equal quantities on my wrists, ankles and neck, and because I never wear shoes, I am often asked if I am a white sangoma. This was, however, the first time I had been approached in an airport. Again, I smiled at the realisation that this did not happen in just any country.

Throughout the morning I witnessed many an incident that makes this country unique. Even after the negative introducation to my long wait at Johannesburg's OR Tambo International Airport, I enjoyed what I experienced, being forced to stop and observe. And even in an international concrete building, there is still a lekker South African soul. I must admit, however, that this was not my tone when I ended up in the same coffee shops a few months later waiting for eight hours, and then another seven hour stint on my return. Neither was I singing South Africa's praises when I flew to Argentina later that year and my bag was sent to Brazil. But you have to take the good with bad. I would not have it any other way.

BILENE, MOZAMBIQUE; September '09

BILENE, MOZAMBIQUE

A little piece of heaven ...

Tipo Tinto, the local rum, in a coconut cocktail ...yummy! Oh, and the sunset was amazing too.

... Tarzan believed he could conquer the world with the accompaniment of Shlong the leopard-print snake ...

Left: One of the colourful shops in the market.

Beer, beer, beer ...

Fun, fun, fun haggling in the local market.

One , two, three, puuuuuush ...

Left: We had to give the 'main man' in the area a lift to the clinic (he was suffering quite a bit due to certain reasons), so we all piled into the bakkie once again, along with his family, and took a trip into the village.

Left: In our ride!

Grrrr ...

Double grrr ...

Having fun with night photography on the beach.

... not very comforting to know that this little grass snake was found in Alfie's bed!

Below left: Our mascot, Shlong, had to lie down after all the beer.

Oh, dear, after all his hard work in helping launch the yatch, Alfie was left behind.

Still smiling! What?!

And first prize for the Looking Idiotic Competition goes to ...

Local kids playing on the beach.

Some liked posing ...

While others weren't interested at all ....

Local fishermen sell their catch at the market in the main village of Bilene. For some this is a good morning's travel away as the people reside on the outskirts of the salt and fresh water lakes alongside the coastal dunes.

Chilling! Seriously!

Fudgie (Deano), my apprentice, was a good model too!

Our little house on the lake, rustic and gorgeous!

In the back of the bakkie ... again!

Hehehe, stop, it's the police looking ever so intimidating.

Mother Nature being playful ...

Fudgie in the back of the bakkie. This time doing it properly for the long 12 hour drive back to SA.

Sadly, it all has to come to an end. The prawns, the rum, the sun, the fun. But, with four visits to Mozambique, it has made its way under my skin and I long for the rural pace of life and rare beauty. And that's why I will definitly be back, especially for the rum!

September '09