Snow!

Snow on the mountains of the Eastern Cape, quite dramatic


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Location:34,000 feet, B737-400

It's still there, poor baby

The Air Angola 747 is STILL waiting to be taken home...(riiiight at the back)



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Location:OR Tambo International Airport

High finance - don't pay with dollars older than 2009

When Walter went to settle the bill for our last 3 days' accommodation, bar and restaurant (we had pre-paid the first 3 nights, thinking we may travel further afield after that) we discovered that they don't accept dollars printed before 2009. This was high finance for me, requiring multiple exchange rates (from metacais into dollars at 26:1) and then some negotiation, on Walter's part for them to take the 2 notes printed in 2006. Walter is an extraordinary negotiator, though, exhibiting no impatience and slowly wearing down his opponent with logic and reasonable argument.

Not my dollars, unfortunately, image courtesy of Google images. You have to search for the year of printing, and the manager told us the owner would subtract the amount from his salary should he accept the 2001 bill.

They were firm on the note from 2001, however, which saw us scratching through wallets for rands to pay the outstanding amount (and more high finance exchanging dollars into rands). No, they don't take credit cards (that was on the website, why not the dollars?)

Apparently this is quite common in Africa, although it was news to me. Now you know too.

Of course this meant we didn't have enough cash to buy petrol in Xai-Xai and would have to draw money, which we did. Also important - the banks in Xai-Xai don't have Maestro ATMs so you can't draw from your debit card. The Xai-Xai FNB did take my VISA card, however, so we could draw enough for petrol, snacks and the toll fees. 

That would have been fine and dandy, apart from the traffic fine.

Day 6...

Our last day – tomorrow we are off home; we are hoping to do the journey in one day.

A suitably lazy day then, spent reading and eating (what else?) with a final trip to the beach

'bye beach

The pool at the resort, for those who aren't too fond of beach sand

The restaurant verandah. Stick to the chips.

Could there be a better spot for your late afternoon glass of wine?

Day 5...

Another perfect day in Africa

How is it already day 5 when it feels like we’ve just arrived? There are more guests, and last night I heard a rather loud cat advertising its stud services outside our casita. The power went off (it does, from time to time) but I could still read on the iPhone and Walter has the headlamp, so it made little difference to us. It’s back again this morning, so we are charging phones (reading and camera device rather than an actual phone, since there’s no service here for me) and the weather is once again beautiful.

Fortunately the ear-ache has gone, the broad spectrum antibiotics are still in the first-aid box should I need them, but in the absence of any fever or other symptoms I don’t think they are necessary. Walter asks me which year of medical school taught me that little piece of insight; he worries too much and spoiled me with lamb chops, ribs, beautiful roast potatoes and avo. He should give Gilda lessons, having mastered the gas oven so quickly. 

The geckos

The geckos at the casita kept us entertained; allowing me to take close-up pictures with the iPhone by standing on the table and leaning in quite close.

Quite a feat for someone with balance issues....

I think this is a common house gecko (according to Bradt’s guide) probably around 10cm

I named this one Gordon Gecko (because he was greedy, rushing around dispatching ants just as ruthlessly as his namesake took care of his financial rivals) and he was only around 5cm long. The iPhone was very close to him, I kept thinking he would make a dash for it to escape, but he was quite patient. 

There were 4 of these little chaps having a turf war I imagine; waving their tails over their heads pretending to be scorpions and then rushing away, bobbing their heads. I could have happily watched them hunting down ants for a few hours.

Whales!

Happy birthday to me

Day 4

A perfect day. The weather has cleared 

WHALES! Walter shouts from the verandah, he has the binoculars glued to his eyes. Whales for my birthday! I am in awe of Walter’s talents, from knowing which tyre pressure to use to arranging for a whole pod of whales to visit on the morning of my birthday. And the children phoned to sing happy birthday and let us know they had managed to buy gas. Scientist no 1 was immediately in questioning mode “What colour are they? Do they have large dorsal fins? Are they spy-hopping? Is there tail-slapping? Is there a white spot behind the fin?” I promised to check with the binoculars.

I wish I could claim this as my own, alas they were too far away for the iPhone's capabilities. Picture courtesy of St Lucia They were indeed Humpback whales and quite common for this time of year, apparently.

Aside: Internetlessness

The lack of access is both a blessing and a curse. A simple question like “do cashews grow on trees?” is unanswerable. Without “the Google” and not speaking either Portuguese or Shangaan we are unable to access answers. It’s deeply frustrating when you’re used to simply typing a question into your cell phone and then deciding how much information you want in response. On the other hand we are not slaves to the cellphone / email monster, allowing us to relax fully. Our biggest problem (will the beer be cold?) is easily answered (yes, the refrigerator works) and we spend hours reading or napping. We haven’t suffered from our lack of news (apart from Walter still not knowing who won the Open) 

Day 3...

Dwayne (I kid you not), the son of the owner, told us when we checked in, that he’d been living here for 5 years and had NEVER seen weather like this in July. 3 straight weeks of rain did not bode well. But it was set to start clearing from the south on Monday, and when we woke it looked promising.

Indian ocean sunrise

Day 2...

Our plan was to get to the Lebombo border post at 6am so that we had plenty of time to navigate the border and find our way to Xai-Xai. We arrived just after 7 (naturally), got into the queue and ate our packed breakfasts from the B&B. In theory it’s quite simple; the big trucks keep to the left hand lane and the passenger cars to the right. This does not allow, however, for the taxis – which drive in the oncoming lane and push in at the front, causing me to use some choice language and fantasise about mounting a missile system on the Jimny. Walter fended off the entrepreneurial street vendors, trying to sell us yellow jackets (required) warning triangles (required) Vodacom SIM cards “that work in Mozambique” and a whole assortment of goodies from their shopping trolleys which they wheel from car to car, doing a thriving business from what I could see. The B&B owners had told us of 18-hour queues over Easter and Christmas, so I was pleased we were going outside the holiday period. Tip: Apparently the Swaziland crossing into Mozambique is a better option during holidays.

Lebombo border. Don't take pictures.


 Just outside the fence is a whole community catering to the needs of travellers, with plastic-covered “stores” fronted by 40 gallon half drums filled with coals. It is here the travellers can buy tea and food, although I certainly didn’t stop to look (taxis would have pushed in, for sure) A few scrawny chickens peck through the litter and the area would only be improved by the addition of some large refuse bins. As it is the rubbish is merely thrown into a small gulley at the end.

Day 1...

There is very little of interest between Johannesburg and Waterval Boven in the middle of winter. Aside from the change in landscape at the N1/N4 interchange after Pretoria, the dry brown scrubby highveld is broken only by the smoking towers of power stations and the angular electricity pylons marching away importantly to the cities west of them.

We took the N14 past Pretoria to the N4, where signs pointing to eMalahleni temporarily confused us. Unfortunately Witbank’s more exotic modern name has done nothing to improve this hard little coal-mining town where we were confronted by large signs on the outskirts warning us not to stop. Hi-jack hotspot! High crime area! Complete with a 10-foot wall down the center of the highway (apparently an attempt to stop pedestians crossing and lower the fatal accident rate).

But at Waterval-Boven the road drops into the lowveld and the air is warmer. The trees are taller, flat-topped acacias and lime-green fever trees start to appear. Further east, past the flamboyants and bright purple bouganvillas of Nelspruit (where we stopped to buy groceries and had very good sushi in a local Super Spar) the inselbergs I associate more with Zimbabwe than South Africa dot the landscape. It is only the lack of baobabs that reminds me I am south of the Tropic of Capricorn.

Inselberg ahead. 

Throughout southern Africa these are referred to as koppies. The best examples I’ve seen are in Zimbabwe, with Matopos, outside Bulawayo, providing us with hours of fun as children, where we ran shrieking from the blue-headed agamas (or blouskops as we called them) sunning themselves on the rocks.

Have you ever?

Outside Komatipoort, day one of the roadtrip


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Location:Komatiepoort,South Africa

Top 10 myths about introverts

A young friend of mine on Twitter posted a link to a blog this morning, it gave me one of those light bulb moments.

So it turns out I'm not mad/sad/sulking/rude after all. Thank you Jerry

Here's the original post, with a link to his site:

TOP TEN MYTHS ABOUT INTROVERTS

Myth #1 – Introverts don’t like to talk.
This is not true. Introverts just don’t talk unless they have something to say. They hate small talk. Get an introvert talking about something they are interested in, and they won’t shut up for days.

Myth #2 – Introverts are shy.
Shyness has nothing to do with being an Introvert. Introverts are not necessarily afraid of people. What they need is a reason to interact. They don’t interact for the sake of interacting. If you want to talk to an Introvert, just start talking. Don’t worry about being polite.

Myth #3 – Introverts are rude.
Introverts often don’t see a reason for beating around the bush with social pleasantries. They want everyone to just be real and honest. Unfortunately, this is not acceptable in most settings, so Introverts can feel a lot of pressure to fit in, which they find exhausting.

Myth #4 – Introverts don’t like people.
On the contrary, Introverts intensely value the few friends they have. They can count their close friends on one hand. If you are lucky enough for an introvert to consider you a friend, you probably have a loyal ally for life. Once you have earned their respect as being a person of substance, you’re in.

That's clearly NOT a runway

In the pre-jurassic, just before I went to work for Pterodactyl Airways as a cabin attendant, I unexpectedly found myself temporarily unemployed. My sister had a pilot friend who had been planning a trip to the Okavango swamps. Given the free time I had they very kindly invited me to join them. The pilot, Mike, also had a boat he kept at Delta camp. We would fly in, taking Mike's Beechcraft Baron ZS-DVN, and then take the boat up river, stopping whenever we felt like it.

Picture from Wikipedia. This is not ZS-DVN, but you can see the sleek lines. You know, just by looking at her that she's fast and elegant, it was love at first sight. My sister has a picture of me hugging her.

The basic rule of flying

Stay in the middle of the air.  Do not go near the edges.

This says it all!


From AllCity

In the middle of winter the old cat warms her bones in the sun

Passing stalls and spins

After the first spin and stall lesson I spent the whole week going through the lesson in the flying book, talking to pilots and generally boring everybody with my questions. I went through each step in my head, 

I was at the flying school at 6.30am on Sunday, handed over my car keys (you give them your car keys, they give you the keys to the plane. You bring it back you get your car back) did the pre-flight checks and headed out to the GFA.

We told everyone where we were, checked for vultures, other aircraft, altitude and got started. My palms were already sweaty. Oscar demonstrated. Twice. With my heart racing I took the controls and started the exercise. Up, stall warning, wing drop, correct. Twice. 

Of spins and stalls. The beginning of the end.

I have no idea where I've hidden my log book or my flying notes...
I remember putting them away, safely, to be brought out when I could fly again

Thinking back this was when I knew there was a problem, up until this lesson I had felt confident and in control. I prepared thoroughly for each lesson, went through the steps in my head, wrote the tests and did very well in the practical.

.ZS-ILP Cessna 172. Heading off to do spins and stalls in the GFA. My (extremely brave) friend Margie took this from the back seat. I did not like this particular aircraft for some reason.