Wednesday, 30 April 2014

After the Beast ...

Hi everyone,

I bought a green Citroen Club as a replacement car for the Beast while in Durban ... reason being that I could not find another Beast and the ride quality of this 1980 Citroen was simply out of this world – even when measured against the best models of today.

The Green French Monster (GFM) gave me hassles from the very beginning but every time that ride quality made owning it worthwhile. Some of the hassles:

The week after I bought it, I undertook a trip from Durban to the Western Cape when the hydraulic system sprung a leak. The car felt pretty low as I went up Van Reenen’s Pass and I wondered what was wrong but nothing else seemed to give undue warnings, so I carried on. This was until I reached a red traffic light in Bethlehem in the middle of the night. The brakes failed and I went straight through. I then realised that the brakes were also hydraulic and, sensibly stopped and overnighted at a nearby service station or ‘garage’ (as we locals refer to them). The next morning, I went to the service manager and had the GFM inspected. I was informed that the hydraulic system had sprung a leak and that the special oil in it was almost depleted – for the first time I learnt about LHM fluid, it was a special oil used by that Citroen’s hydraulic system and very scarce. Since only blessing followed my incidents in the Free State, that very service station had an adequate supply of LHM fluid.

The repairs were made, LHM fluid replaced, and tested and by 11:00 the next morning I was on my merry way to Cape Town again, with half a canister of LHM fluid in the boot.

Let it be said that the rest of the journey was bliss.

The GFM surprised me again when during that same holiday, I transported four rather sizable adults (all family) in it from Wellington to Stellenbosch in the Western Cape, a distance of about 40 km. I sprung a puncture in Stellenbosch and, having had my spare wheel ‘borrowed’ without my consent by a backdoor mechanic, I was in a quandary.

The solution, since it was still weekend and the service stations were shut, was to put the hydraulic setting on ‘high’ (it had 3 settings) and drive back to Wellington with a full load basically on three functioning wheels. When we got to Wellington, a check of offending wheel revealed no problems. Tyre was still on, not shredded and a replacement tube the next day did the trick! Amazing GFM!!

I confessed to never having loved the GFM as much as I loved the Beast and even its silky suspension was only adequate compensation.

That was my second car!

It expired in a mechanics backyard, when the suspension packed up. Clearly a more dignified end than the

violent one suffered by the Beast!

Keep travelling safely until next time!

Death of the Beast ...

Good afternoon faithful readers,

Apologies for not being touch over the last couple of days – had some discussions with Telkom about internet access. It is still not resolved but I’ve decided to use internet cafes until then.

I promised to get to the demise of the Beast. I have wrestled with writing this post for a long while but have not had the courage to attempt it until this first wintry autumn day here in the Western Cape. Our Belgian guest student exclaimed this morning: “The mountain is gone!!!”

It was, shrouds of sifting rain, mist and clouds filling the space where it normally stands. Smoke and mirrors for sure but it looks so real, like some powerful magician has been at work overnight – yech!

It’s almost like our media who tried for a considerable period to convince us that our present president is evil incarnate,   until one of them broke ranks recently and admitted that the campaign was an opposition-driven election stunt. Shutting everyone’s eyes to the good our government has done recently and hammering the bad stuff, of which there were admittedly quite a bit caused significant damage to our country. If there was balanced reporting however, the good would have outshone the bad.

Anyway, back to the Beast. Sentimentality aside, I acknowledge that I was responsible for its demise.

There, it is out in the open!

I gave the keys to my study colleague to go to Pietermaritzburg without taking into account that: 1) the Beast, with its powerful V6 engine, required good driving skills and 2) I did not have any idea how good my colleague’s driving skills were.

I ran the bare minimum due diligence i.e. that he had a valid driver’s license and that he could actually drive.
 My colleague begged the Beast off me, to ostensibly go to an essential family function in his hometown of Pietermaritzburg, about 90+ km from Durban.

For those who do not know, one of the world’s toughest road running ultra marathons – the Comrades Marathon – is run annually between Durban and Pietermaritzburg. It is a 86km race for which pre-qualification via certain standard marathons is needed. Check its website if you still want to partake.
He was so convincing about the visit’s necessity, it never occurred to me that he simply wanted to go for a jolly! If I had a sniff of the latter, he would have had no chance because the latter kind of visit normally involves alcohol which reduces one’s driving skills AND the Beast was booked in for a service immediately after the weekend.

So I handed over the keys to the Beast on a fateful afternoon of the last working weekday. It was not with trepidation, because I swallowed his story HLAS (hook-line-and-sinker). He and the Beast was going to be back in Durban the morning of the second day of that weekend.

That morning came and went!!

We did not have mobile phones in those days, so I was resigned to receiving an explanation via the landline at our Melbourne Rd residence.

The expected phone call never came and my anxiety was reaching critical levels.

To be honest, and this may sound callous but the Beast was my first car, I did not care much for my colleague’s well-being but I was really worried that something happened to the Beast. Every male’s first car is special and the Beast, although it was bought second-hand, squarely fell into that super special category – which explains why it still pains me to blithely speak of its demise.

The first inkling I got of the last breath of the Beast was the afternoon of first working day of the next week when my colleague came home on crutches. I was by then beyond anxiety to hear news – any news – of my beloved Beast!! He apologised to me and explained that the Beast had expired on Field’s Hill on the way back from Pietermaritzburg. He then proceeded to bemoan his condition while my mind was beset with the Beast. I vaguely heard him complaining about pains, etc. I did not listen too intently however, hope you do not blame me.

So, it came to be that the Beast came to an undignified end on Field’s Hill, somewhere between Durban and Pietermaritzburg and was taken to a scrap yard in Pinetown. I had no desire to see its last resting place once I heard that it was way beyond repair! – I had the last happy picture of a healthy Beast in my mind and wanted, irrationally, to remember it that way!

The Beast was no more but after that I bought a yellow Ford Cortina V6 (the Yellow Fellow) as a replacement but it was not the same.

I trust the Beast will rest well in rust heaven!

Keep the keys to your first car to yourself only – this is my advice to anyone who will listen! So far my daughter is doing well in the listening stakes J

Travel well and I hope your first cars passed on in a more dignified fashion.


Sante!

Sunday, 27 April 2014

Today on Freedom Day, we were ...

Hi y'all,

Today is the 20th celebration of our first day of democratic freedom.

We from this side of the divide cannot forget that, in terms of voting, we became full South African citizens i.e. the racial divide that relegated us to second-class, and sometimes third-class, citizens were banished to the historical dustbin. There are those that are likening the legal and democratic efforts to work towards economic redress to apartheid, this WHILE THEY AS BENEFICIARIES of apartheid continue to bask in the ill-gotten gains of apartheid. The hypocrisy of such a take, clothed in democratic wording, stinks to high heaven!

Back to where we were on 27/04/1994 ...

We stood in the Durban heat in a queue at Bellair Primary School. The people of all kinds queued together in peace to cast their vote. Unlike other queues the good wife and I only stood for 3 hours to cast our vote. Some people queued for much longer, also without incident mind you.

Today, as we near our next vote, reminds me of the biblical story of Saul and David. Saul was tall and strong but out of favour with God. David was a sheperd boy, something the elite in Israel always held against him. We too have a former sheperd in charge of our country and he too is being held as never having come close to our first democratic president. There are those who fervently believe that he never will and perhaps he won't, but we must pull together to build this country in praise and humility to our Heavenly Father!

This day is a day the Lord has made - we will rejoice and be glad in it.

May things go well in your places of abode too!

Keep travelling! 

Thursday, 24 April 2014

Shanghai 2010

Hi y'all,

I visited the Shanghai 2010 World Expo as part of a delegation that promoted South African goods and services.

Amazing place with reportedly more than 22 million citizens at that time!

Since I live near Cape Town, a metro pole reported to have 3.74 million inhabitants in 2011, and occasionally travel into the city on congested roads and since by that time I've visited Johannesburg, Lagos, and Nairobi where traffic congestion were less than pleasant, the Shanghai figure concerned me Luckily, I had nor been to Cairo by then.

Allow me to digress for a second. I had the most amazing experience on the Cathy Pacific flight from Hong Kong to Shanghai (travel route was Cape Town-Johannesburg-Hong Kong-Shanghai). The flight is just slightly shorter than the 2 hours between Cape Town and Johannesburg, so the in-flight service follows a similar schedule and pattern. The only difference is the little less time available for staff to clear the cabin of dirty eating utensils. On that day we had the obligatory snacks and drinks and then lunch. Time was running short and before the landing announcement was made, the cabin staff started to carry out their collecting duties but, since the landing announcement was imminent, they also got people to put up their seat backs and put on their seat belts.

I watched with interest because I had nothing better to so and I was curious to see passengers' reactions.

There was nothing untoward from the first about eight rows of passengers to my deep disappointment. Then the landing announcement came, followed by what seemed to be the cabin staff supervisor. She spoke to the cabin staff busy collecting dirty plates and utensils in what sounded like Chinese or Thai. The cabin staff stopped what they were doing, and without further discussion, went to the first row of passengers and re-checked their seat belts  and seat positions. This I found amazing. The cabin staff just went along to double-check something they had already done without further discussion. In my country, such a request from a supervisor would have elicited at least SOME discussion, if not heated argument. In the time that it took for potential discussion, the cabin staff uncomplainingly completed the supposed request from their supervisor and carried on with their duties. In our country, and many others besides, the supervisor's supposed request would have caused unnecessary and time-wasting discussion or arguments. This would have heightened ill-feeling between colleagues, would have created a bad impression of Cathy Pacific among the passengers, etc. Instead the Cathy Pacific staff handled the matter quietly and professionally! Well done!!

So as we descended further towards Pudong International Airport (Shanghai) on the first day of the weekend, I was more than a bit apprehensive about traffic. We were picked up with a midi bus and driven to our hotel in Nanjing Road. We were told the hotel was chosen because of its proximity to the trade fair site. The traffic was surprisingly light - in fact, I do not recall ending up in any traffic snarl-ups. The approximately 47km trip between Pudong International and the Portman Ritz-Carlton took around 40 minutes in a oldish midi bus! This surprised me but I notched this down to it being late afternoon on the first day of the weekend -most resident were probably attending sports gatherings at the time - in my reasoning!

Before landing in Shanghai, I had been to Moscow, Dubai, Paris and London, so I had some idea of shopping meccas but what I saw in Nanjing Road blew my mind! EVERYTHING was larger, MUCH larger! A case in point was the Shanghai skyline. I looked out of the accessible windows on the 30th floor of our hotel and in all four standard wind directions, the skyline was defined by high-rise buildings.

A walk through parts of the city though gave me some insight on how well the old and new buildings are integrated. Brand new high-rise buildings stood side by side with really old housing and small store units. These were interspersed with many small parks and walking lanes.

Obviously, everyone needs to go to the Bund when in Shanghai. I did not have the time for this exquisite trip - a four-letter word (work) interfered with my enjoyment. I however visited the restaurant at the top of the Hilton Hotel though and the 360-degree view at night was amazing.

The next morning after our 09:00 breakfast, we were herded together for a stand set-up trip to the Expo area. I was really excited because I was not yet over my surprise on the relative lack of road traffic. The trip, again in a midi bus, took 21 min and a few seconds which was quick for the approximately 20km in an urban area. I again notched this down to it still being weekend (people were probably in church or temple!). I therefore remained vigilant and was ready for our trip scheduled for the next first working day, and to be quite honest, I expected serious traffic jams! The next morning we left (again in our special midi bus) a bit earlier but I clocked the trip at just short of 22 minutes. I was emotionally shattered! No, serious traffic jams, REALLY??? I did not have an explanations for how we did not have a serious traffic jam in the middle of a city with a reported 22-plus million citizens. How do I explain this experience back home? or to anyone who have suffered in serious traffic jams.

The answer came to me fortuitously a few days later. I visited an industrial complex that manufactured space grade batteries, solar cells and space fuel tanks and my guide was a Chinese professional in his late twenties. We got talking and I asked him about his life, work and salary. He was married to professional in a different field and they lived in an apartment owned by her family. Their combined salaries were more than mine. The Renminbi, at the time, being relatively equivalent to the Rand. We travelled to the complex by taxi whereas, if we were in South Africa, we would have gone to similar places in my private vehicle.

I found this odd, so when I saw a high-end Audi parked at the complex, I asked after the price.

I then intimated that my Chinese companion could easily afford the car, to which he agreed.

He then said that buying the car (at a price slightly lower that that charged in South Africa for the same model), was not the issue. He said that he could not afford the annual licence fee the city of Shanghai levied on new (or newly acquired) cars and the penny dropped. I had my answer to the vexing traffic question. When I asked about motorcycles, he indicated that the same licence regime applied to them. I asked because unlike many other Asian cities, Shanghai did not seem to have a surfeit of motorcycles either. Puzzle solved!

One night my fellow South Africans and I decided to a nightclub about 25 min drive from the hotel. Some of them had been to Shanghai before and knew the place. I confess that at that time I had not been to a night club in a decade or so (effects of marriage priorities!). I was shocked to see children seemingly as young as 13 being allowed into the club and fully partaking in the alcohol and drugs culture that seemed to permeate the establishment. I saw this as a side effect of affluence. That part of China seemed seriously affluent.

I grew tired of the place after about 2 hours and left on foot for my hotel. I was a foreigner in a city that I did not know but I backed my pigeon-like direction-finding ability. After walking for about half an hour without incident though Shanghai, I became tired and waved down a taxi. I had a piece of paper provided by the hotel that explained in Chinese where I wanted to be. I was also told by my erstwhile Chinese companion that some taxi drivers cannot read standard Chinese but if I say P-O-R-T-A-M-A-N (POR-TAH-MAHN), I would be taken to my hotel without fail. So, I tried the 'portaman' option and was successful. Not even a hint of doubt crossed my taxi driver's eyes and we made the hotel within 15 minutes for the princely sum of 10 Renminbi (or Yuan). The taxi fare was another surprise but I did not have the opportunity to enquire about the petrol price in Shanghai.

So taxi travel in the middle of the night for me was safe, quick and cheap!

The only problem was we could not have any further conversation in the taxi due to a communication cliff.

I undertook to study Mandarin but was later told by locals that it may not be very useful. Apparently, regional and city language differences are so pronounced that the language spoken in Shanghai is colloquially known as Shanghainese and it is difficult to understand by Beijing residents and rural people. I tested this statement by speaking to traders and others about it and they confirmed the situation. One lady told me she was in Shanghai for about four months and that she still had trouble understanding certain references. She was originally from near Guangzhou.

Restaurants! Eating out in Shanghai is not expensive compared to South African prices. The restaurants close to the tourist route is a bit more expensive and when I wandered off the beaten track, some restaurants refused to serve me! This was seemingly because they served clients from specific regions of China. I picked this observation up by looking at the clothing and physical make-up of the clients at different restaurants. At one such regional had no qualms to serve me however and I bought a crumbed pork meal plus a 600ml beer for 15 Renminbi (Yuan). The food was filling and palatable but if you want to follow such an adventurous approach, make sure you have local currency since many of the smaller restaurants did not have electronic payment facilities - something to do with a heavy-handed and multi-level local tax regime?

In Shanghai I also went to Fong Kong heaven and saw many knock-offs at ridiculous prices. The Fong Kong stores were on Nanjing Road in a multi-story building.

A colleague went for a suit fitting 10 min from our hotel and he could choose whatever cut (including top class Saville Row) he wanted as well as a choice of material. He went before breakfast and picked up the complete suit that same afternoon for 240 Renminbi. Now that is what I call class service. Since my bags were full, I did not avail myself of this opportunity. I would recommend it to visitors, though. It is a ore conscionable option than to buy Fong Kong.

One night we were invited to attend a performance at the State Theatre were we were regaled by the smooth sounds Siyabonga Khumalo and company. They got us (South African contingent) dancing and singing, which surprised the other attendees, mostly Europeans, Americans and Chinese.

A curious thing happened when this performance was over and we left the theatre to go to our transport. Myself and a Denel employee was approached out of the blue by an American gentleman (by his accent it was clear that he spent a serious amount of years outside the USA). He offered his business card and told us that business in South East Asia is better facilitated by his company. If he had seen us at the trade fair stands, I would not have been taken aback but the timing of his approach was uncomfortable and raised suspicions about who he really worked for. Anyway, the Chinese were not immediately going to purchase anything from us, so I did not pay much further attention to it.

That was until later that evening. A group of male South African stallholders went to the bar at the hotel to have a drink and, as usual, it turned into a bonding session. Some of use then developed a need for the bathroom and I think I was the third to take leave of absence for this necessity. On the way to the bathroom there were swing doors leading outside to a walk ramp. When I finished, I bid farewell to the bathroom and as I walked past the swing doors, someone outside tried to attract my attention. I walked on but the gesturing became more insistent and eventually I turned to the swing doors. A lady outside tried to get me to go with her to my hotel room. Being suspicious of nature and with the earlier approach by the American gentleman fresh in my mind, I declined. When I returned to our drinking den I checked with the other two that went to the bathroom ahead of me, whether they had observed similar approaches and they answered in the negative.

Anyway, it is useful to be careful in a strange country and I urge travelers to heed common sense. Many people who never made it back home, did not pay attention to common sense or they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time - plain unlucky.

I did not explore Shanghai as I would have had it not been for work and this is my abiding reasons for wanting to return there as soon as circumstances allow.

I was there for one whole week though and on the way back we spent our early evening waiting time in Hong Kong sitting in a bar in Kowloon.

Travel to China pals. It has many rewards for the carefully adventurous!

Auf wedersehn,
Till me meet again,
A tout a l'heure,
直到我们再次见面


Nearing the 700 pageview mark

Hi everyone, we are reaching 700 page views at a rate of knots. I plan to post my trip to Shanghai next.

Keep reading!

Wednesday, 23 April 2014

Readership race 6

Hi everyone,

Uncle Sam is hooting ahead at a rate of knots.

Here are some of the stats (in graphic form): 

Graph of Blogger page views

Overall figures are:
EntryPageviews
United States
336
South Africa
241
United Arab Emirates
56
Germany
21
Belgium
7
Netherlands
6
Nigeria
3
Australia
2
Namibia
2
New Zealand
2

Congrats to USA. I am pretty critical of its government but its people are enthusiastic.

I am happy that my country(wo)men also still follow the blog - thanks guys/dolls.

I am happy to see continued support from the residents of Sheikh Al-Makhtoum's fiefdom and am still surprised by  the readership in der Kaizer's homeland.

I will do more ordinary and fewer exotic trips as time goes by.

Keep reading,

Cheers,
Ron 

Monday, 21 April 2014

Cederberg ... an interesting wasteland

Hi y'all,

I have my sabre at hand because I've not written for a few days. My excuse is that I spent the long WE with family and friends in a wonderful house called "Benjis on the Beach" in Gordon's Bay. The company which consisted of close family and friends were fantastic and I hope we can do this soon again.

Now back to my post:

When my family asked what we are going to do in the Cederberg, I was full of the normal explanations: looking at ancient San paintings, braaing (barbecueing), swimming at the rock pools, admiring the diversity of the Cape Floral Kingdom, drinking local wines, admiring interesting rock formations, etc. But, to be honest, and this was pointed out to me, we could do all that and more closer to home. The real reason for going to the Cederberg reserve (nothing to do with a first nations reserve, rather an ecological one) had to do with technology overfill - mine. I had become tired of my cellphone and laptop and had to flee to a place with no wireless connectivity. My family, luckily, understood.

The question of how we were to react in an emergency wass easily answered: Places like the Cederberg possess time-honoured alternative reaction systems. As for other 'emergencies', they will simply have to wait!

The excitement build as we prepared for our trip. Bookings were made and a vehicle rented (there was no way I was taking my reasonably new sedan up an extreme dirt road pass on the way to Krom River! For added excitement, we planned to enter the Cederberg via a a road that passed a campsite named Algeria. The excitement is generated by going up a single track dirt track mountain pass that I traversed in a bus a few years earlier on a work-related excursion! I could simply not adequately explain how uncomfortable the descent made us feel when the brakes on the bus bound as they often did during the journey. Going the other way was therefore a visual aid to my family to help me relating that tale. I was actually scared that we would look like a bunch of sissies to my two sons if I explained it without them also going through the same pass!

Vanity can be a terrible thing, especially in a family context!

The Uitkyk (means "Lookout") pass is noted in the mountain passes of South Africa's excellent website (http://www.mountainpassessouthafrica.co.za/find-a-pass/western-cape/item/29-uitkyk-pass,-cederberg.html/ featuring an HD video of the pass from the top) and although it is short (4.1 km), it get pretty steep from a certain point down and was the scene of much trepidation during a previous work-related trip to the Cederberg. It is rated as a 4x4 dirt road. The pass, that marries the Southern and Northern Cederberg, has amazing vistas. I would suggest, you find convenient spot and pull off the road before taking pics otherwise you may become an involuntary part of the scenery.

To get to the turn-off marked Algeria on the N7 between Cape Town and Namibia, you'll have to traverse at least to approximately halfway between Citrusdal and Clanwilliam. If you're coming from the Cape Town side you then turn right onto this road which, if memory serves well, is tarred for the first couple of kilometres then it reverts to its natural state and stays that way all along to Krom river self-catering oasis.

Right here I'll apologise for having lost all the pics of our trip to the Cederberg. Apart from moving house many times we also lost a camera by forgetting it in a rented car - sadly we never recovered it! The camera contained pics of our magnificent trip on the Premier Classe train between Cape Town and Johannesburg (will tell about that in another post).

On the morning of our trip all the arrangements fell into place and we left Stellenbosch on the R44 past Wellington going through Porterville, onto the N7 near Piketberg, Citrisdal and further onto the Algeria turn-off. This road gets one to the Uitkyk pass and the Southern Cederberg.

Although the area's name relates to an abundance of indigenous Ceder trees ( we did not get our ceders from Lebanon), unrestricted logging during the 1800s stripped it nearly bare. The Cape Nature Conservancy area has been established the in order to coax nature back into its natural state of many ceder trees but thus far this strategy has not been greatly successful! Certainly not for lack of trying on the part of the conservation officials. It simply shows that what we can destroy in relatively short time can take a really long time to rehabilitate to its natural state - it does not pay to destroy nature wantonly!

Ok! no more sermons on nature conservation. Let me just fold up my priestly garb and put it away for my next sermon.

Driving up the Uitkyk Pass, instead of down, in a normal road car was a different experience. This time the brakes on our Nissan TIDA worked well and there were no anxious moments. I must warn that a normal road car is not recommended for wet winter visits unless your urge for adventure goes off the scale and concern for the safety of passengers are not high on your list of priorities. The Cederberg is a spring or summer destination rather than winter. It can be pretty cold and uncomfortable during the white season but modern convenience and clothing can provide easy comfort. The road and the area also features high on the lists of off-road bikers.

What did we experience in our time in the Cederberg? Wild outdoors! The Cederberg is as unspoilt as one can get. In parts it looks as if God took a whole bunch of rocks in one hand and had strewn them uncaringly over a whole mountainous region. In other parts, it looks as if considerable thought had gone into creating wondrous formations.

Our lodging was in an old house near Nuwerust and it was surprisingly nicely appointed.

After packing out our stuff, we made a beeline for the Krom (Bent out of shape) river and the famous Maalgate swimming and diving spot which was found on foot about three-quarters of an hour away.

After a long and in part dusty traverse, we found the cool clean water really refreshing although jumping from the rocks into the rock pool posed quite a challenge for me and my acrophobia. I chickened out of the 10m jump and I think my family followed my example not to embarrass me.

After a swimming time at the rock pools at the Maalgate (literal translation "milling or whirlpool holes"), we returned to our comfortable old house to prepare dinner. Normally the meat preparation consist of braaing (barbequeing) over the coals and this is the sole preserve of males in South Africa (down my proud heaving chest, down boy!). At braai time, women congregate in the kitchen to prepare salads and partake in suchlike menial tasks. If they get too rowdy, a loud request from outside for more beer settles the hubbub (or that is how men over here imagine the braai should be like!). The secret is out, and some of us will probably pay the price. The price being no more braais which means no more slaving around hot coals and fetching our own beers! Not a bad trade-off I would say!! Ladies??

On this specific occasion, I had previously bought the wood and wine at the Nuwerust shop, so I did not have to lug it with me from Stellenbosch. My recommendation is that you also purchase your meat there should you visit (wish I had the benefit of my own advice before my own visit!). One will get the tastiest real Karoo lamb at the shop and that, mixed with wild mint indigenous to the Cederberg, makes for a meal for kings! Too many superlatives? Visit the place yourself and find out?

The Stadsaal (Town Hall) rock formation contain San paintings for us tourists but I learnt from a TV programme that there are many other secret spots where more impressive ancient paintings can be found but their location cannot be revealed on pain of death.

Other attractions in the Cederberg includes the impressive Wolfsberg Arch and cracks, the Maltese Cross and the unique flowers that one finds late in the 8th and early 9th months. Rooibos tea is also indigenous to the Cederberg and is in fact a major export item.

Our eyes, as the windows to our souls, took in the beauty of the Cederberg and our souls were fullfilled with God's glorious works, so well preserved by Cape Nature and the farmers in the area.

We left the wonderful Cederberg after a great weekend via the Ceres route. It was better than trying my luck down Uitkyk Pass! The rental was in good order and took us home without any trouble.

Until next time,

Travel safely.

Monday, 14 April 2014

Latest trends in pageviews

Trend setting

USA broke the 300 mark in pageviews - yesterday.
RSA is lagging behind by 64 pageviews - catch up required.
UAE strongly surging in third - no chance to catch the two leaders though

Keep reading,
Lesen Sie weiter,
Lees lekker.
gcina ukufundwa.

Masai Mara - an early season visit

Hi everybody,

One of my best Kenyan trips included a visit to a Masai Mara at the very start of the migration season.

I went with my boss to meet a leader in the Kenyan GIS community at the time to discuss future Africa-Africa data cooperation.The meeting followed a strong indication at AARSE (African Association for Remote Sensing of the Environment) Conference held the previous year in Nairobi. At the time many Africans enrolled for high-level studies (MSc and PhD) in remote sensing but notwithstanding promises could not get up-to-date high resolution remote sending data to service their own communities. This caused these remote sensing professionals untold misery and accusations of worthless studies abounded from within their own local communities.

The success of SUNSAT, an African-built earth observation satellite, provided hope for these remote sensing professionals with a promise of more relevant and up-to-date remote sensing data.

It was a noble mission.

We landed at Jomo Kenyatta International, made our way to Wilson International by taxi and there we met the Kenyan luminary. We checked in for a local flight to the Masai Mara where the meeting was scheduled to take place. We have visited this same gentleman at his place of work outside Nairobi before but he was so busy and our meeting was constantly interrupted, so much so that keeping a single train of thought became impossible. The idea then was to meet far from the "maddening crowd" among the lions and other large animals.

At the time I've not yet flown in a turboprop aircraft but the trip from Wilson International was in such a raucous aircraft. Preflight the pilot explained that we will make two stops before reaching our final destination. Now I was a bit uncomfortable with this shaking mass of metal when we took off at Wilson but imagine my surprise when, in the middle of nowhere, the pilot announced that we will make our first stop. No amount of scouting helped me to pinpoint anything on the ground even remotely resembling an airfield.

The rest of the about 30 passengers were completely unconcerned, so I calmed down and adopted the "when in Rome ... " attitude. The plane screamed downwards into what looked like wild veld to me but he was aiming for a narrow dusty strip that would not even easily qualify as a dirt road where I was from. The pilot however landed the plane perfectly and after some passengers alighted with, what looked to me like undue haste, we took off down this strip in a choking cloud of dust. Everyone else seemed happy, so I put my game-face on as well. This manoeuvre was repeated once more before we got to the Masai-Mara. By this time however my game-face was plastered in place with high quality mortar.

So at the aerodrome near the Masai-Mara camp, we alighted and were picked up by an open safari camp 4x4. All the shaking that accompanied the trip to the camp was an ode to the condition of the early season road and then some. It was still about two to three weeks before the annual migration was expected so we saw little by the way of wildlife on the approximately 4km trip to the camp.

Arriving at my first wildlife camp I was surprised to notice the lack of any fencing or gates. Now, I was tolf that we were in the middle of the Serengeti and the Lions are still hungrily awaiting the annual migration and we were going to stay in an open camp??? This turn of events did not help settle my nerves. It got worse when we were given a 'pep' talk by the camp leaders. They told us that wild animals had free rein throughout the camp and that we are not to walk anywhere unless accompanied by minder. We were then shown our tents and they were in the bushes, more than 100m from the main campsite.

I had a beautiful tent but just as my minder and I got to it, a lion spoilt the idyllic scene with an earth-shattering roar and a troop of elephants let out some shrill trumpet notes.

This was it for my nerves!!! I asked my minder how he thought the lion and the elephants were and he nonchalantly replied that they were probably around 200 metres away. My next question, one of necessity was where I could find the closest toilet. It was inside my tent and so was my shower - luxurious was the word. But my stomach at the insistence of my frayed nerves was in no mood to admire my amazing surroundings and I made the toilet just in time.

I spent the afternoon convincing myself that this safari meeting was such a bad idea. I was not so much worried that the lions would break through my secure tent but I was wondering what would be left of it and me if something causes the herd of elephants to stampede right through my tent. Being from the wine country, I have mashed red grapes with my feet and these images, so re-assuring then, took on an ominous hue here in the Serengeti.

Our meeting later that evening, after a lovely dinner, went very well and that took the edge off my nervy state.

I actually slept very well that night. The lions and elephants had the good sense not to break out in further spontaneous raucusness.  Not that I would have been able to do anything about it apart from further filling up my bush toilet.

The shower was filled up with hot water by the camp operators and I had a wonderful hot shower in the Kenyan bushveld the next morning.

After a good breakfast, we were taken to see a pride of lions on the fully airconditioned 4x4 that brought us from the aerodrome the previous day. When we reached pride the driver gave us a run-down of his observations i.e. when last did our pride feast on good steaks and he warned us not to clamber off the 4x4. This sincere warning was wasted on me until I saw a scrawny-looking Masai warrior walk all by himself (with just a long stick) about 70 metres from us. When I asked a stupid question about how moi, a strapping not so young man, had to remain cooped up around the lions while skin-and-bones walked about without a care in the world, I was told that 'skin-and-bones' grew up around the lions and knew how to handle himself. I was also reminded that, apart from acts of serious stupidity on my part, the camp staff was responsible for my well-being. Now I was not about to argue further with a gentleman who could leave me right there and walk off with the keys to the 4x4. So from me all he got was: "Asante sana".

Later on in the day we drove around close to the camp, happened upon a Cheetah and her two cubs as well as a herd of elephants. They can be a destructive bunch, those ellies! You should see what the trees close to them look like.scarred beyond recognition at times.

Being that close to the ellies and lions helped to settle my stomach for the day. Later that day we wrapped up our business and was driven to the aerodrome for our trip back to Nairobi. The Kenyans have a sense of humour out there in the outback. The 2m x 2m wood and iron curio shop at the aerodrome was named "Departure Terminal". The same turboprop that brought us to the beautful Masai Mara took flight with us aboard and we made it safely to Nairobi and after some overnighting we made the early morning flight from Jomo Kenyatta International to Johannesburg International.

Great time in Kenya!

Now squash but having been close enough to lions to rub their tummies was a new experience.

Keep safe fellow travellers, its a jungle out there!

To all who needs to go to the Masai Mara - karibu!

Cheers, kwa heri, Asante sana,




Down the Breede River on a piece of plastic ...

Hi everyone,

So far we have not been river rafting or canoeing on this blog - most water transport has been motorised.

We've done the non-motorised version twice - once on the Breede River near Worcester, Western Cape and once on the Touw River in Wilderness, Western Cape. These two places are geographically removed by more than 400 km and the experiences were almost as divergent!

I'll tell you about the Breede river one first and leave the Touw river for another time.

We booked a one-day family and close friends canoe outing on the Breede river through one of the many canoeing service providers.


Eight intrepid canoeing adventurers some with enough sunblock to ward off significant sunspot events 
We were eight persons and followed a standard programme of a delicious breakfast at the service provider's base camp (situated off the R43 near the bridge over the Breede river).

The Good Wife with our meagre but dry belongings in front of our transport to Nekkies


This was followed by us clambering on board transport provided by the service provider and being taken to the Nekkies Resort. Once there we were given a lecture on basic canoe handling and river safety. Then
we were helped into our safety jackets and we set off two to a boat on the calm waters of the Breede River led by three guides. Their duties were seemingly to see that everyone remains safe, do not get separated from the main group and to provide lunch.

A guide struggling to cover up his Tarzan physique at Nekkies!

Two to a boat sounds like fun but it is a serious relationaship challenge. Whovever sits in front is suppoed to provide motive power and steering is supposed to happen from the "backseat driver". Since both parties provide motive power but only one is supposed to steer, this creates the potential for interpersonal conflict. The steerer at the back is supposed to follow the rythmic paddling lead stroking from the front seater, while also steering. People with even good coordination normally finds switching between steering and rythmic paddling rather difficult, unless they are both experienced paddlers. If one is an acknowledged experienced paddler, they normally can call the shots based on the respect their experience earned them, that is until they make a mistake!!!

At some crucial junctures, like a tight bend or channel of faster flowing water, a guide would normally paddle ahead and would guide the rest of the group via easily recogniseable signals. The whole group is expected to follow the guide's instructions. But as in any diverse group, there are people who have difficulty understanding or following orders or instructions or have their own interpretations for the guide's signals. These are the fun times because it normally ends with a rowing couple ending up with a huge argument as they they to extricate themselves from the undergrowth or from a sandbank or other such obstructions.

The party can also consist of people that are super competitive and this tends to stir competitive juices across the whole group. This can lead to bottlenecks at narrow junctures with people then tending to use their oars for purposes other than rowing or steering :-).

All these things happened to our relatively homogenous group and the constant bickering made for a very loud group - chattering monkeys!!

This went on until around lunch because the river twists and turns more in the first half of the journey.
Canoes take a welcome break at lunch!
So, at lunch we would rest on the banks of the Breede river and the guides would put togeter some good grub for the hungry bunch. After eating our fill, resting our bodies and minds and deciding on strategies for the second half of the journey, we would be off to the base camp.
Lunch-induced relaxation on banks of Breede river

Note that there is no prize for the ones who get to base camp first but the post-lunch scramble for position seemed to indicate a race of olympic proportions.
The olympian and his then girlfriend, now his wife ...

My eldest son seemed to be gripped by olympic fever and set off at a pace that put some of the guides to shame. Now it is never a good thing to embarrass the guides but this realisation only comes with life experience and age and my son were, at the time, not old enough yet. So he and his girlfriend (now his wife) went off into the wild blue yonder while the rest of us stayed in touch with the guide. He was so far ahead that he missed to exit point by far. There was no-one to help him with directions either. The guides helped the rest of us to get out at the right spot.
The good Wife explains what will happen to the man who angers her!!!

This way, theGood Wife and I beat the youngster!!! No cheating!!! Just slow and steady - the tortoise and hare exemplified!

We reached the exit point around 14:00 and had afternoon drinks at the base camp before making our way back home.
Bigfoot was here. All we are warned to leave behind were footprints!

It was an exciting and enjoyable day for all, even my youngest son! He was in his own canoe with a similarly aged partner (about 12-14 years old) and made the trip without trouble. The females in the group similarly had no trouble completing the day's activities. If you go bring and use a lot of sunblock because we live in a sunny country!!

Until next time y'all.

Saturday, 12 April 2014

Progress Update ...

Hi y'all,

We passed the 600 pageview mark yesterday. We are on 619 so far today!

Thanks for all your time and effort!

Oh and I forgot to say earlier that the UAE has outstripped RSA but not the USA. Great work in the desert and regards to the sheikh!

Keep travelling! 

The train to Sea View ...

Hi Everyone,

In 1993-4 we lived in Sea View, Durban and I worked in the centre of town.

Since I was employed as a public servant, I decided to take some courses at the ML Sultan Technikon in Durban. Lectures happened after work and the quickest way home was by taking a train from Durban's Berea Rd Station to Sea View station. I would normally walk to my classes going West down Smith Street (now called Anton Lembede St), turn into recently renamed Julius Nyerere Rd and onto Centenary Rd where the Technikon was situated. ML Sultan amalgamated with Natal Technikon and move main campus   From the end of classes I would walk the 800-odd metres to the Berea Rd Station through various roadside stalls and a taxi rank. I would make my early night train all the time.

My Good Wife was not happy with my choice of transport but affordability trumped her safety concerns. See we had two kids in school and a third on the way, so finances were tight. So tight in fact that belt tightening was not useful - constantly wearing a financial corset was the norm! Funnily enough we were both working and earned reasonable salaries. The fact that the two kids were at former Model C schools did not help the budget much but we took a decision early in our marriage to invest in our kids' schooling as opposed to saving money for their and our futures. The idea was that we would work till they finished their schooling then we would be in a position to save some for old age. We also decided that we would plough such investments into an available business, work therein until we drop and that would be that!

It has not quite worked out as planned but we are not far off making the ideal come true!

This post is about a specific incident that happened in the few kilometres between the Technikon and home.

The Beast was long past on to rust heaven, and I had replaced it with a black la kaka Peugeot 305! and thereafter with an amazing little Ford XR3.(ran like clappers on the smell of an oil rag!) The Ford was supposed to be Valentine's Red but had so many age-induced airflow vents that it was difficult to tell its real colour. The Good Wife did not like it because of its appearance - I was crazy about this little tar banger!

Back to a specific train ride!

One evening after class, I was walking to Berea Rd Station when a car started hooting crazily behind me!! I made sure I was on the pavement and then turned around. From what I could deduce, the driver of a little car was hooting at a minibus taxi. The driver managed to get his small car wedged in front of the taxi a few metres further up the road and jumped out to confront the taxi driver.

He was a youngish white Afrikaans-sounding chap and he ran to taxi driver's open window with a rather large pistol which was pointed at the temple of the taxi driver. I stopped a few metres away to watch the
drama unfold.

The youngster shouted loud obscenities at the taxi driver. Then ... something really scary happened ...
The taxi turned his head hard into the muzzle of the gun at his temple to look into the eyes of his tormentor and without any visible fear in his eyes said in IsiZulu something to the effect: You! You see me, I'm a Zulu taxi driver, so what are you going to do with this thing pointing at my head??!!. It was the most chilling display of coolness under fire I'd ever seen and I really did not want to be in the young Afrikaner chap's shoes at that moment!!! The youngster immediately withdrew his weapon and trudged off to his car and pulled off in a huff!

This was an isolated incident that ended well but had the potential to end in tragedy. The other interesting part was that afterwards no one in the taxi or on the pavement went hysterical. We simply went on doing what we did before. I carried on the last few hundred metres to the station, etc., etc.

Suffice to say, that when I told the Good Wife of this incident, she increased the pressure on me to quit my night classes. As a man (not being a Zulu taxi driver), there is only so much pressure one can bear, so I caved in shortly afterwards.

That night I observed some of what our country had the potential to become post 1994, both in terms of bravery and tolerance. I felt a lightness of being on that train that night borne of positivity.

I also stopped casting any aspersions at Zulu taxi drivers from that point on which saved me many a time in the future, I think.

I hope you still enjoy the blog, although one of the readers indicated that it lacked "fire!"


Travel well.


Thursday, 10 April 2014

Paris 4 ...

Hi y'all,

Paris 4 is the final installment of the present Paris series.

Before I get there though, I just want go local quickly.

Yesterday we visited two closeby (within 30km radius) attractions: Solms Delta and Babylonstoren with a Belgian (Flemish) family. We really enjoyed the informative museum at Solms Delta and the very practical and beautiful layout of the extensive garden at Babylonstoren. The Solms Delta museum delves into the history and the contributions of the first nations in its part of our country.

Delicious springbok shank at Solms Delta 
If you are in the area between Stellenbosch, Paarl and Franschoek, make sure they are on your list. The Alpha male on the Belgian side remarked that both farms represent paradise on earth to him. I cannot agree more. See if you feel the same way and do not forget the sparkling Shiraz at Solms Delta. The food there was really fantastic as well ...We also went wine tasting at Allee Bleue and had a good time with their Pinotage and extra strong Cape Ruby.

So we (The Good Wife and I) were on our last full day in Paris and there was still so much to see. We decided to go to a store situated in the 15th district close to the boundary with the 14th district. The plan was to get off the metro on the border of the 14th and 15th districts and then to get to the store on foot. Unfortunately, my map-reading skills had rusted past their sellby date and although I found many other creative stores, I could never pinpoint our original quarry. Asking Parisians or other tourists seemed a waste of time as all had their own precious objectives to pursue.

We eventually ended up walking all the way into the Opera district and from there we, around 10 am, decided to take a romantic stroll along the banks of the Seine. Now the Good Wife read far more extensively on the dangers lurking around the Seine and she took off at a pace that can only be described as Olympic standard fast walking. Obviously, this did not tie in with my perception of what romantic stroll should consist of but, try as I may, I could not get a reasonable compromise going between our respective expectations.

So I followed the Good Wife as best I could but she make me feel like Ferrari is currently  feeling in F1 - in a lower league. To be honest, Oscar Pistorius without his leg extensions, probably felt better than I did at that time.

We walked the stretch of the Seine that displayed the advertisements featured in a previous post (http://expectmeagain.blogspot.com/2014/04/our-trip-to-paris-part-3.html). It was interesting to compare the respective sizes of the images between walking past and seeing them from out on the river.
The difference can be keenly observed in the next pic.

InfrontofCoffeeBeanAd
 From the Seine walk we walked some way onto the the Quai de Francois Mitterand bridge over the river to inspect the love padlocks a bit closer!
Love padlocks galore!
And then we walked over to the Louvre again. The Good Wife was coerced to hold up the Inversee Pyramide. And we nearly pulled the illusion off:

Not impressed with this illusion
After this long, and for the last part, rather fast walk, we took to the Metro to get back to the Hotel Libertel near Gare de L'est. 

I was however not going to leave Paris without checking out some of their squash facilities so, while the good wife was knackered, Ilooked up a squash centre in the Montmatre district. So, having obtained permission from the good wife, I took the metro to Lamark-Caulaincourt Station. The courts were a short walk from the station but the station is so deep underground you may not have energy left by the time you reach the courts. Give yourself enough time to regain your senses before venturing onto the well-maintained courts. It must be a French home advantage trick! 

I watched some training at the courts, situated at 17 Rue Achille Martinet, 75018 Paris, France, before making my way back to Gare de L'est. At that, both the good Wife and I were happy.

We bid Paris adieu the next morning via CDG and made our way home via Dubai. At Dubai International we had a six-hour wait and spent it in the airport building. We have family in Abu Dhabi but throught it best not to rush all over the UAE before making our way to Cape Town. The Le Clos wine merchant we saw in the large letters (see pic) at Dubai International turned out to have nothing to do with our wonder swimmer Chad le Clos.

Not Chad le Clos'
A way to spend six hours at and airport is to simply relax for as long as is possible. You can only do so much shopping ... because you only have so much money ...

Relaxing at Dubai Terminal 3
We made our flight to Cape Town without incident early the next morning and out Paris mania was at a temporary end. 

Like the Terminator: We'll be back!!!

Keep travelling y'all.


The Beast in Durban ...

Hi y'all,

The last time I wrote about the Beast was a rather eventful trip to Durban through the then Orange Free State.

Now when we got to Durban, safely I might add, I found out where I was staying. Because coloured areas were few in Durban under Group Areas Act and I had to attend a formerly white educational institution, Natal Technikon, our company found lodging within short walking distance at a place called the Melbourne Road Flats. When I called upon the address given to me, I found a goodly elderly lady and an unknown fellow student from the Burghs (that would be Pietermaritzburg also known locally as Sleepy Hollow).

She was to be our landlady for the duration of our first study stay in Durban. We, my fellow student and I, found ourselves through no fault or design staying in a block of flats that had its own gang known then as "The Flat Cats" It had a leader called Dutchy and Dutchy had a relationship with our landlady's daughter.

So it came to be that we bumped into the local gang leader far more often than necessary or healthy. I had the dubious fortune to own the Beast. A sought-after source of motive power at any time but especially for 'gentlemen' who followed a code representing alternative money-making methods. Some of the older members of the Flat Cats were reasonably respectable with standard jobs and families but many were "alternatives".  The Beast and I were in high demand usually for some less than kosher activities. Due to my accommodation situation I had little chance of not being available at the 'required' times.

I remember bumping into a grumpy Dutchy once. He 'asked' if I would give him a lift to Newlands East. Rumour in Durban had it that, at that time (early eighties) Newlands East was the 'Badlands'. I told him I did not know where Newlands East was (true at the time) but he indicated that he will be happy to provide directions. This written piece does not quite reflect the tone of the 'discussion' between Dutchy and I but children also read this blog .. I presume...

To cut a long story short, we ended up outside a block of flats in the East and Dutchy liberated himself from the Beast with a few expletives, took out pistol (9mm by the looks of it) from his belt and rushed off into the block swearing he was going the kill the so-an-so! Believe what you will but I had no idea who the so-and-so was, neither had I any idea before then what the purpose of our visit was, nor did I notice the presence of the 9mm before then. Let's just say that Dutchy can become brusquely uncommunicative at certain times and our ride from Melbourne Road flats was such a time. I however did not have much time to reflect on his miserable mood while in the East.

A few rather unpleasant thoughts had inserted themselves into my suddenly elevated consciousness; to wit: Was I going to become an accessory to murder? Even if the cops did not get me, people in the Newlands East flats would easily recognise the Beast (colour, Stellenbosch number plate, etc.) which would make me a target without even knowing my future hunters wherever I go in Durban in the Beast.

So the questions that kept pouring through my stressed brain at the time were simply binomial: Do I stay or do I go? Both options had less than optimal consequences for my future well-being. While the internal debate on the least damaging option was still raging, Dutchy emerged from the block of flats looking even more visibly upset than when he had entered. I took this to mean that he did not find his target and that I was free from a possible accessory charge. My relief was palpable. Now Durban has a humiture (humidity combined with temperature) that matches or exceeds that of Miami, Florida in summer but at that point I stopped sweating with relief. The fact is that my slow thinking processes, constricted as they were by fear, saved me from rashly rushing off!!

I therefore seemed a cool ally to the gang leader although I was anything but (the but at the end being a uniquely yet not exclusively Durban township way of putting certain things).

The Beast must have been just as relieved as I because it seemed to fly back to Melbourne Rd even without further directions from Dutchy. I entreated myself with my good fortune and thinking up ways of avoiding landing in the same situation again with Dutchy.

I was blessed by our Heavenly father throughout this episode and I never had to repeat a similar undertaking.

The Beast undertook many other far less stressful and more enjoyable activities in Durban. And we enjoyed each other's company.

Unfortunately, the Beast came to an unfortunate and unexpected end at the hands of another person but more about that at another time.  

The other unfortunate thing is that I have lost all my Beast pics through moving house multiple times.

Be blessed y'all - I am. 

Wednesday, 9 April 2014

The Cheetah visit

Hello everyone,

It is not everyday one travels to see a cheetah at a cheetah outreach. Were it up to the Good Wife, that day would never have come. The kids however had other ideas and booked a spot for us at the Cheetah Outreach when it was still at Spier near Stellenbosch. It has since moved to a Somerset West spot.

The Cheetah Outreach captures hunted Cheetahs, takes in abused tame Cheetahs and nurse these endangered animals back to health!

Since the 'present' was for our anniversary, the Good Wife decided to bite the bullet and do the dirty! Not that doing the dirty on me is new to her, no sir! She is an expert at it. The kids seem to have learnt their mom's tricks along the way as well. On the exciting day we managed to stand in enough queues to get into the Cheetah enclosure and we were given the do's and don'ts of being near Cheetahs. The one that got me laughing was DO NOT RUN! Even I know Cheetahs catch their prey through running faster and using their very sharp talons and teeth next. Like all big cats, they go for the jugular!

We were shown to the full adult Cheetah encounter because that was the ticket the kids bought us.


The handlers spend nearly the whole day with Cheetahs and are more au fait with training Cheetahs than human beings, so I cannot blame them.

First we approached the enclosure to see if we could tell anything vaguely re-assuring about the normal Cheetah behaviour. All we saw were big cats lounging around in the shade (see pics) As you can see in the pic we were congregated close to the back of the reclining Cheetah with the trainer holding its head lightly


We were advised to approach the Cheetah (lying down at the time and its handler from behind. We were allowed to stroke the Cheetah's back from that position and to be alert for any untoward movement by the Cheetah. To which we are to gently semi-freeze and back away in slow motion.

Now one is not given any time to practice these unnatural movements and I suppose it should 'come naturally' once we were told exactly what to do by the Cheetah handlers. Can you imagine!! Moving slowly when a large cat seems intent on making lunch out of you? I've watched enough WWE to know how to apply a headlock even though we are warned 'never to repeat their moves at home or at school or anywhere'. The alternative fallback was to my boxing training. No idea how these cats will react to a Mike Tyson or a Manny Pacquio (more my size I think) on the jaw!!!
First approach
Bit more comortable.


Weird how these interesting thoughts should pass through one's head. So let me carry on with the story. We approached in the correct slow stealthy manner, settled ourselves in a manner befitting those privileged enough to be allowed near these magnificent creatures. Then we started to stroke its back. For a while the Cheetah seemed to enjoy the gentle attention. Then, very suddenly, it rolled over on its back to stare the Good Wife and I in the face. Now for all the mental training we went through we moved (slid) backwards very quickly and stayed in that position until the trainer got the Cheetah to face away from us again.

Then I had immense trouble to get the Good Wife anywhere near this unpredictable beast again. She simply kept her distance and left me to go through the same rigmarole again. This time the Cheetah remained facing the other way. I was often told that I can put on a terrifying face. I can only imagine what my terrified face looked like at that time and therefore cannot blame the Cheetah for not wanting to sneak one further look!!

Eventually, I gave up and followed the good wife out of the enclosure.

This was the end of our Cheetah outreach adventure. My adrenaline was however still happily bouncing around in my bloodstream and it took a long and intense squash match to get rid of it. My regular opponent told me he's never seen my playing so well before. I thought the better of it to tell him about the Cheetah episode :-).

This is a short travel incident for the brave! Thanks kids!!

Keep travelling!