Wednesday, December 03, 2003
Cape Town
Actually, I'm writing this from home because I didn't get a chance to update in Cape Town, so indulge me for a while...
I had booked in to Long Street Backpackers in Cape Town which, due to its excellent position in the heart of Cape Town's notorious nightlife, can afford to bit more than a little shit. Staff with no manners, humour or grains of helpfulness in their petty, syphilis ridden bodies really help add a Germanic feel to the place.
That aside Cape Town is a very impressive city which tries hard to live up its billing as a playground of the rich and famous (though why the rich and famous would allow so many beggars into their playground is a mystery to me - I'd stick to roundabouts and swings). The main problem for me was fitting everything in to my five day stop-over - a problem with South Africa as a whole really. I managed to cram in the 'must dos' of Robben Island, Table Mountain and the Cape Peninsular as well as getting to South Africa's biggest ever music concert.
Table Mountain was the most noteworthy since a gang of seven (2 Swedes, 2 Norwegians, 2 English and an Irishman) decided we'd be clever and take the long route around the back of the mountain. It was meant to take four hours but in a cunning combination of piss-poor planning, inadequate instructions and over-enthusiasm we found ourselves some three hours from the cable car point as it was starting to get dark. Since it had taken us about five hours to get to that point we spent our first Table Mountain sunset not enjoying the view but sprinting back to a mountain hut we'd passed some time back.
This sprint was made mildly amusing by the presence of a now aggressive panicking Norwegian chap who shouted a lot about nothing, everything, and breaking in to non-existent private houses on the top of mountains. Luckily I was shielded from the worst of his excesses by virtue of the fact that I was gallantly (and without personal consideration) bringing up the rear with the least fit of the group. Who happened coincidentally to be female, Swedish and blonde. I would have happily slaughtered the mad Norwegian if it weren't for the fact that we were lagging about five minutes behind and had to stop every half hour for my friend to get her breath back and smoke a fag.
To cut a long and mildly concerning story short; we drank water from puddles, managed to stop the Norwegian from damaging anything but his self respect, got a signal on a Swedish mobile 'phone and got rescued by six bearded men in three Landrovers at midnight. Our heroes, despite strongly resembling the 'off-roaders' from The Fast Show (for my older readers). Not my most proud moment, but you learn something every day. That day I learned to always take enough water for stupid friends when hiking and to never be on the same side as Norway if there's ever a war.
Two days later I returned to Table Mountain on a perfectly clear day via the sensible route - a Cable Car. The view was simply stunning - not a Norwegian in site. We enjoyed a glass of wine overlooking the most beautiful city in the world and caught the Cable Car straight back down. That's the way to do it.
The 46664 concert was billed as the biggest event since Live Aid. A charity concert with all the usual suspects plus Nelson Mandela which aimed to raise awareness of AIDS and to politicise the issue. It was therefore somewhat disappointing to return to the UK and find the wider world was largely oblivious to the whole thing. Highlights were listening to Mandela speak (worth the entrance money alone), Ms Dynamite, Jimmy Cliff, and the temporary reforming of The Eurythmics. Although good, the rest, frankly, was a replay of the Freddie Mercury tribute concert of some years back which also aimed to raise awareness of AIDS.
The problem with all this off course is that you had to question whether, particularly in South Africa, the message was getting across to the right people. The audience of mostly white, largely non-African fans who had paid at least R180 (18 quid) per ticket probably aren't the people most at risk in a country where AIDS is said to have infected anything between 20% and 50% of the population (depending on whose figures you believe). This didn't prevent Ms Dynamite from demonstrating her keen sense of irony and distributing free condoms to the front row - the Golden Circle of not-so-cheap seats. Still, it was a great event and certainly no harm can come of the efforts.
46664 incidentally was Nelson Mandela's prison number whilst he was in Robben Island. He's donated it to the campaign.
Regretfully I don't have any great stories of wild nights out in Cape Town because, after the puddle water drinking exercise, my stomach wasn't allowing me the freedom of movement that a rich foreigner might expect in the world's playground. I did see a good local band 'African Dope' doing a kind of Bob Marley-Eminem hybrid in a wacky club off Long Street (that should get me a job on the NME). There are some great bars along the street - Jo'bergs, Cool Runnings, Club 169 - and others just a short walk away which are well worth a visit for anyone fortunate enough to be in the area with a fully operational bowel.
My last day was spent staying out of the stifling sun so as to make the overnight flight back marginally more pleasant for my fellow passengers. I've no idea if the plan worked or not as I slept through the whole fight.
More updates soon from my newest destination - 'Yeovil'. It's nice to be home but the locals look kinda weird.....
Actually, I'm writing this from home because I didn't get a chance to update in Cape Town, so indulge me for a while...
I had booked in to Long Street Backpackers in Cape Town which, due to its excellent position in the heart of Cape Town's notorious nightlife, can afford to bit more than a little shit. Staff with no manners, humour or grains of helpfulness in their petty, syphilis ridden bodies really help add a Germanic feel to the place.
That aside Cape Town is a very impressive city which tries hard to live up its billing as a playground of the rich and famous (though why the rich and famous would allow so many beggars into their playground is a mystery to me - I'd stick to roundabouts and swings). The main problem for me was fitting everything in to my five day stop-over - a problem with South Africa as a whole really. I managed to cram in the 'must dos' of Robben Island, Table Mountain and the Cape Peninsular as well as getting to South Africa's biggest ever music concert.
Table Mountain was the most noteworthy since a gang of seven (2 Swedes, 2 Norwegians, 2 English and an Irishman) decided we'd be clever and take the long route around the back of the mountain. It was meant to take four hours but in a cunning combination of piss-poor planning, inadequate instructions and over-enthusiasm we found ourselves some three hours from the cable car point as it was starting to get dark. Since it had taken us about five hours to get to that point we spent our first Table Mountain sunset not enjoying the view but sprinting back to a mountain hut we'd passed some time back.
This sprint was made mildly amusing by the presence of a now aggressive panicking Norwegian chap who shouted a lot about nothing, everything, and breaking in to non-existent private houses on the top of mountains. Luckily I was shielded from the worst of his excesses by virtue of the fact that I was gallantly (and without personal consideration) bringing up the rear with the least fit of the group. Who happened coincidentally to be female, Swedish and blonde. I would have happily slaughtered the mad Norwegian if it weren't for the fact that we were lagging about five minutes behind and had to stop every half hour for my friend to get her breath back and smoke a fag.
To cut a long and mildly concerning story short; we drank water from puddles, managed to stop the Norwegian from damaging anything but his self respect, got a signal on a Swedish mobile 'phone and got rescued by six bearded men in three Landrovers at midnight. Our heroes, despite strongly resembling the 'off-roaders' from The Fast Show (for my older readers). Not my most proud moment, but you learn something every day. That day I learned to always take enough water for stupid friends when hiking and to never be on the same side as Norway if there's ever a war.
Two days later I returned to Table Mountain on a perfectly clear day via the sensible route - a Cable Car. The view was simply stunning - not a Norwegian in site. We enjoyed a glass of wine overlooking the most beautiful city in the world and caught the Cable Car straight back down. That's the way to do it.
The 46664 concert was billed as the biggest event since Live Aid. A charity concert with all the usual suspects plus Nelson Mandela which aimed to raise awareness of AIDS and to politicise the issue. It was therefore somewhat disappointing to return to the UK and find the wider world was largely oblivious to the whole thing. Highlights were listening to Mandela speak (worth the entrance money alone), Ms Dynamite, Jimmy Cliff, and the temporary reforming of The Eurythmics. Although good, the rest, frankly, was a replay of the Freddie Mercury tribute concert of some years back which also aimed to raise awareness of AIDS.
The problem with all this off course is that you had to question whether, particularly in South Africa, the message was getting across to the right people. The audience of mostly white, largely non-African fans who had paid at least R180 (18 quid) per ticket probably aren't the people most at risk in a country where AIDS is said to have infected anything between 20% and 50% of the population (depending on whose figures you believe). This didn't prevent Ms Dynamite from demonstrating her keen sense of irony and distributing free condoms to the front row - the Golden Circle of not-so-cheap seats. Still, it was a great event and certainly no harm can come of the efforts.
46664 incidentally was Nelson Mandela's prison number whilst he was in Robben Island. He's donated it to the campaign.
Regretfully I don't have any great stories of wild nights out in Cape Town because, after the puddle water drinking exercise, my stomach wasn't allowing me the freedom of movement that a rich foreigner might expect in the world's playground. I did see a good local band 'African Dope' doing a kind of Bob Marley-Eminem hybrid in a wacky club off Long Street (that should get me a job on the NME). There are some great bars along the street - Jo'bergs, Cool Runnings, Club 169 - and others just a short walk away which are well worth a visit for anyone fortunate enough to be in the area with a fully operational bowel.
My last day was spent staying out of the stifling sun so as to make the overnight flight back marginally more pleasant for my fellow passengers. I've no idea if the plan worked or not as I slept through the whole fight.
More updates soon from my newest destination - 'Yeovil'. It's nice to be home but the locals look kinda weird.....
Tuesday, November 25, 2003
Mossel Bay - Garden Route (or Yeovil-on-Sea)
Wow. This place is kicking! Just saw an old lady with a stick, there was a pub on the way in and now I've found an internet cafe! I've pitched up here to break up the 10 hour bus journey to Cape Town. It's got beautiful scenery etc etc but not much seems to be going on. I just got a touch too excited when I realised there's footy on tonight! Might find a pub and look for some people who don't know that Ryan Giggs is over-rated to talk to. I'm staying in an old train which appears to have been left on the beach. Quite quaint really - a bit like the old Yeovil to Weymouth journey but without the big boys swearing and drinking warm beer. Unfortunately I seem to be the only person staying in the place so it's unlikely to get lively later.
For the last two days I've been in Storms River. It's the unofficial adrenalin sport capital of South Africa but I'm sure they'll let them become 'official' if they keep up the hard work. The first highlight was the result in the Rugby World Cup final which, just like home, kicked off a day of drinking and ripping into Aussies. That led indirectly to my second highlight since, whilst under the influence, I committed to taking on the highest Bungee Jump in the world. Silly really. 216 meters high with a drop of around 175m (depending on how fat your are I guess). The last time I was that scared I was running through the streets of Durban with 6 large intimidating locals on my tail. Luckily, and in stark contrast to Durban's less pleasant areas, nobody has ever met an untimely death on this particular bungee. It really was quite an odd experience just leaping from a massive bridge. You enter a kind of mindless state where nothing anyone says seems to be English for five minutes before the jump. Just the effects of nerves I guess. Then, when the count down finishes, you just seem to automatically jump off. It really required far less thought and mental attitude than I'd expected. Which is a worry really.
As a consequence of being on autopilot my first reaction to looking down (I couldn't bring myself to look at the floor when on the platform!) was complete surprise! I just couldn't believe I'd jumped and celebrated the fact by shouting "F*CKING HELL" at the top of my voice. Apparently it raised a few smiles at the cliff top restaurant. The jump consists of 4 seconds of free fall and another 3 seconds of roped falling. A second or so of complete peace and stillness at the lowest point is followed immediately by a bounce back up for 100m and a sudden slackening of the bungee cord around the legs. Then next bounce up is 60 metres with the whole 'suspended in a precarious position' situation lasting about 2 minutes. A fella is winched down to retrieve you and tell you stories about his pets as you rise back to the bridge edge. Fantastic stuff all round but I'm not sure whether I want to do it again. Paracending is probably next on the agenda.
Yesterday I went Quad biking around a forest and through a river which was also awesome but unfortunately less noteworthy than the plunging bungee stuff. Dust, water, animal shit and petrol fumes all over the place.
Tomorrow I head to Cape Town for five or six days, maybe including Stellenbosch if I get time. I'll let you know...
Wow. This place is kicking! Just saw an old lady with a stick, there was a pub on the way in and now I've found an internet cafe! I've pitched up here to break up the 10 hour bus journey to Cape Town. It's got beautiful scenery etc etc but not much seems to be going on. I just got a touch too excited when I realised there's footy on tonight! Might find a pub and look for some people who don't know that Ryan Giggs is over-rated to talk to. I'm staying in an old train which appears to have been left on the beach. Quite quaint really - a bit like the old Yeovil to Weymouth journey but without the big boys swearing and drinking warm beer. Unfortunately I seem to be the only person staying in the place so it's unlikely to get lively later.
For the last two days I've been in Storms River. It's the unofficial adrenalin sport capital of South Africa but I'm sure they'll let them become 'official' if they keep up the hard work. The first highlight was the result in the Rugby World Cup final which, just like home, kicked off a day of drinking and ripping into Aussies. That led indirectly to my second highlight since, whilst under the influence, I committed to taking on the highest Bungee Jump in the world. Silly really. 216 meters high with a drop of around 175m (depending on how fat your are I guess). The last time I was that scared I was running through the streets of Durban with 6 large intimidating locals on my tail. Luckily, and in stark contrast to Durban's less pleasant areas, nobody has ever met an untimely death on this particular bungee. It really was quite an odd experience just leaping from a massive bridge. You enter a kind of mindless state where nothing anyone says seems to be English for five minutes before the jump. Just the effects of nerves I guess. Then, when the count down finishes, you just seem to automatically jump off. It really required far less thought and mental attitude than I'd expected. Which is a worry really.
As a consequence of being on autopilot my first reaction to looking down (I couldn't bring myself to look at the floor when on the platform!) was complete surprise! I just couldn't believe I'd jumped and celebrated the fact by shouting "F*CKING HELL" at the top of my voice. Apparently it raised a few smiles at the cliff top restaurant. The jump consists of 4 seconds of free fall and another 3 seconds of roped falling. A second or so of complete peace and stillness at the lowest point is followed immediately by a bounce back up for 100m and a sudden slackening of the bungee cord around the legs. Then next bounce up is 60 metres with the whole 'suspended in a precarious position' situation lasting about 2 minutes. A fella is winched down to retrieve you and tell you stories about his pets as you rise back to the bridge edge. Fantastic stuff all round but I'm not sure whether I want to do it again. Paracending is probably next on the agenda.
Yesterday I went Quad biking around a forest and through a river which was also awesome but unfortunately less noteworthy than the plunging bungee stuff. Dust, water, animal shit and petrol fumes all over the place.
Tomorrow I head to Cape Town for five or six days, maybe including Stellenbosch if I get time. I'll let you know...
Friday, November 21, 2003
Jeffries Bay - Sunshine Coast
Hi. I've finally managed to get another picture of Harvey up on the site. Such an exciting moment in the world of African computers that I thought I'd share it with you.
Jeffries Bay is cool. Warm sea of the type to make Aldy very jealous. I have my first surf lesson this afternoon and in true Uk weather tradition there appears to be little in the way of waves today. It might be a bonus really as I think it'll take more than two hours before I'm really world class. Maybe even three or four.
A few of us went on a Township pub crawl a couple of days back. We were led by the amiable Goodman who actually lives there and seems to have a financial interest in most of the pubs. If anyone is fortunate to be in these parts sometime soon I can't recommend it highly enough. The 'pubs' were very basic but had a great atmosphere and friendly locals. I chatted to a lad of maybe 10 or eleven who's English was good enough to hold conversation for an hour or more. More amazing was the fact that, despite such intelligence in the face of little opportunity, he still couldn't understand that Man Utd were shit and Ryan Giggs over-rated. My quest to convince the world continues regardless.
I have my place booked at the local big screen for tomorrow's world cup final. It'll be another traditional Englishman's foreign adventure no doubt although, with the big Yeovil-Hull game also playing tomorrow it'll probably be difficult to get too excited. There's no doubt that the South Africans are cheering for Australia ahead of England. It's all done with humour, but their traditional competitiveness with the Aussies has been somewhat dropped for a few days. Must be something to do with that whole 'colonial masters, raping minerals and women, British Empire building' thing a few years back. Rest assured I shall stand up in the face of adversity and cheer to the last. Zulus. Thousands of 'em.
If anyone reading this would like to text me the result of the Hull Yeovil game at some point I'd appreciate it.
Cheers.
Hi. I've finally managed to get another picture of Harvey up on the site. Such an exciting moment in the world of African computers that I thought I'd share it with you.
Jeffries Bay is cool. Warm sea of the type to make Aldy very jealous. I have my first surf lesson this afternoon and in true Uk weather tradition there appears to be little in the way of waves today. It might be a bonus really as I think it'll take more than two hours before I'm really world class. Maybe even three or four.
A few of us went on a Township pub crawl a couple of days back. We were led by the amiable Goodman who actually lives there and seems to have a financial interest in most of the pubs. If anyone is fortunate to be in these parts sometime soon I can't recommend it highly enough. The 'pubs' were very basic but had a great atmosphere and friendly locals. I chatted to a lad of maybe 10 or eleven who's English was good enough to hold conversation for an hour or more. More amazing was the fact that, despite such intelligence in the face of little opportunity, he still couldn't understand that Man Utd were shit and Ryan Giggs over-rated. My quest to convince the world continues regardless.
I have my place booked at the local big screen for tomorrow's world cup final. It'll be another traditional Englishman's foreign adventure no doubt although, with the big Yeovil-Hull game also playing tomorrow it'll probably be difficult to get too excited. There's no doubt that the South Africans are cheering for Australia ahead of England. It's all done with humour, but their traditional competitiveness with the Aussies has been somewhat dropped for a few days. Must be something to do with that whole 'colonial masters, raping minerals and women, British Empire building' thing a few years back. Rest assured I shall stand up in the face of adversity and cheer to the last. Zulus. Thousands of 'em.
If anyone reading this would like to text me the result of the Hull Yeovil game at some point I'd appreciate it.
Cheers.
Monday, November 17, 2003
Port Elizabeth - Sunshine Coast
Howzit.
That's what they say here you know. Well as it happens I passed that CELTA course and am now, rather worryingly, qualified to teach English to those less fortunate than myself. I can't mention what grade I got because I wouldn't want to make those who didn't get an A feel inadequate. It was a thoroughly rewarding experience which though fairly taxing at times was hardest mainly because of the late nights planning and early mornings teaching. Some evenings we even struggled to find the time to get drunk. The guinea pig students - mainly refugees from the Congo and Burundi were - an amazing bunch. Keen and friendly despite South African society being less than generous towards them and despite, in many cases, being miles from home, family and friends. Some of the students hadn't heard from loved ones in months or years, some had heard that their families had been killed, but virtually all were desperate to return home and rebuild their countries as soon as peace was assured. I have some great photos from our trip to the beach (where I was able to pretend I was competent at football to those less versed in the game) and from the last day of school. Playing games and having a party just like being a young'un again! Unfortunately none of the photos I have are digitised yet so you'll have to wait before they go on the web.
I'm now in Port Elizabeth. It's just about the first town on the Sunshine coast and is beautiful but with a distinctly more touristy feel to it than the other parts of South Africa I've seen. It really is a bit bizarre to think that this is the same country as the poverty stricken countryside I passed on my 14 hour bus journey down, or the harsh city atmosphere of Durban. Good for relaxing and catching up on eMails though.
I'm staying at a pretty smart backpackers by the beach with a decent swimming pool and some normal backpacker types. Another change from Ken's Old Mental Ward which was home for four weeks in Durban. That place was basic, not particularly clean and still housed many of its former residents.
Yesterday we formed a British invasion party - something they're still a little tetchy about in these parts - and headed off to the sports bar or the Rugby semi-final. We might as well have been in north London or Spain the atmosphere was so familiar to me, but it was good to be amongst friends as we arrogantly drank our way through the morning goading the French in as many ways as we could muster. There were four hardy French chaps sat in the bar behind us who gamely took all the stick before revealing that they were actually South Africans who had bought their French shirts along because they "f@cking hate the English". Admirable honesty in my eyes. I'm sure our behaviour would have gone a long way to changing their minds. In fairness, although many South Africans are open about their distaste of their Imperialist masters, in my experience they are the most open and friendly people you could hope to meet. At the local Rugby game the other day, for example, I asked a chap where the nearest bar was and he told me he was on his way there and offered to buy me and my fiends a drink. Had he known the curse I would subsequently put on his beloved Natal Sharks (since I bought the top they're yet to win a game) he might not have been so forthcoming.
As I write this its about 11am in the Uk and I'm consumed by guilt at the thought that many of my friends back home are slaving away in the office. I do hope it's not raining and cold back there because I really couldn't reconcile that with the fact that this afternoon I'm going surfing for an hour and then going to waste some money in the casino. Tomorrow at some ungodly hour I head down to Jeffreys Bay along with an English chap and a Swedish girl from our current hostel. It's something of a South African surfers' mecca apparently (Jeffrey's Bay, not the Swedish girl) with beach bars, surfing lessons and brand name outlet stores all over the place. From the general price of clothes around here I can only assume that outlet stores pay the customers to take the stuff away? Rest assured I'll keep you informed.
From there it's down the Garden Route; past and maybe on the biggest bungee jump in the world and eventually to Cape Town. Flying home on the 2 Dec. I'm hoping to have a few drinks in London on the first weekend in Jan before I leave again so you might want to pencil it in?
Hopefully though I'll have another chance to update my ramblings before then.
Take Care all.
Howzit.
That's what they say here you know. Well as it happens I passed that CELTA course and am now, rather worryingly, qualified to teach English to those less fortunate than myself. I can't mention what grade I got because I wouldn't want to make those who didn't get an A feel inadequate. It was a thoroughly rewarding experience which though fairly taxing at times was hardest mainly because of the late nights planning and early mornings teaching. Some evenings we even struggled to find the time to get drunk. The guinea pig students - mainly refugees from the Congo and Burundi were - an amazing bunch. Keen and friendly despite South African society being less than generous towards them and despite, in many cases, being miles from home, family and friends. Some of the students hadn't heard from loved ones in months or years, some had heard that their families had been killed, but virtually all were desperate to return home and rebuild their countries as soon as peace was assured. I have some great photos from our trip to the beach (where I was able to pretend I was competent at football to those less versed in the game) and from the last day of school. Playing games and having a party just like being a young'un again! Unfortunately none of the photos I have are digitised yet so you'll have to wait before they go on the web.
I'm now in Port Elizabeth. It's just about the first town on the Sunshine coast and is beautiful but with a distinctly more touristy feel to it than the other parts of South Africa I've seen. It really is a bit bizarre to think that this is the same country as the poverty stricken countryside I passed on my 14 hour bus journey down, or the harsh city atmosphere of Durban. Good for relaxing and catching up on eMails though.
I'm staying at a pretty smart backpackers by the beach with a decent swimming pool and some normal backpacker types. Another change from Ken's Old Mental Ward which was home for four weeks in Durban. That place was basic, not particularly clean and still housed many of its former residents.
Yesterday we formed a British invasion party - something they're still a little tetchy about in these parts - and headed off to the sports bar or the Rugby semi-final. We might as well have been in north London or Spain the atmosphere was so familiar to me, but it was good to be amongst friends as we arrogantly drank our way through the morning goading the French in as many ways as we could muster. There were four hardy French chaps sat in the bar behind us who gamely took all the stick before revealing that they were actually South Africans who had bought their French shirts along because they "f@cking hate the English". Admirable honesty in my eyes. I'm sure our behaviour would have gone a long way to changing their minds. In fairness, although many South Africans are open about their distaste of their Imperialist masters, in my experience they are the most open and friendly people you could hope to meet. At the local Rugby game the other day, for example, I asked a chap where the nearest bar was and he told me he was on his way there and offered to buy me and my fiends a drink. Had he known the curse I would subsequently put on his beloved Natal Sharks (since I bought the top they're yet to win a game) he might not have been so forthcoming.
As I write this its about 11am in the Uk and I'm consumed by guilt at the thought that many of my friends back home are slaving away in the office. I do hope it's not raining and cold back there because I really couldn't reconcile that with the fact that this afternoon I'm going surfing for an hour and then going to waste some money in the casino. Tomorrow at some ungodly hour I head down to Jeffreys Bay along with an English chap and a Swedish girl from our current hostel. It's something of a South African surfers' mecca apparently (Jeffrey's Bay, not the Swedish girl) with beach bars, surfing lessons and brand name outlet stores all over the place. From the general price of clothes around here I can only assume that outlet stores pay the customers to take the stuff away? Rest assured I'll keep you informed.
From there it's down the Garden Route; past and maybe on the biggest bungee jump in the world and eventually to Cape Town. Flying home on the 2 Dec. I'm hoping to have a few drinks in London on the first weekend in Jan before I leave again so you might want to pencil it in?
Hopefully though I'll have another chance to update my ramblings before then.
Take Care all.
Monday, November 10, 2003
Pietermaritzberg - just inland from Durban
Hey!
Sorry I haven't been in touch for ages but it's bloody impossible to get on eMail for a decent length of time over here.
Hopefully things should improve as I begin my travels as I wont be working on English lessons all day and night and might be able to find an internet cafe that's not been robbed.
Anyhoo, things are great here. The TEFL course was hard work but very rewarding and I think I've passed (results out next week). I'm now heading across to Lesoto for a couple of days - it's a whole new country you know - and then down to Hogsback to visit a friend from the TEFL course. After that I'll be having a look at the Wild Coast, the Garden route, and then making my way to Cape Town in time for my flight home on Dec the 2nd.
I'm (inevitably) now being kicked off the computer again so all the best to everyone, sorry for the lack of mails and stuff, keep texting the footy scores and I'll see you all soon...Nick
Hey!
Sorry I haven't been in touch for ages but it's bloody impossible to get on eMail for a decent length of time over here.
Hopefully things should improve as I begin my travels as I wont be working on English lessons all day and night and might be able to find an internet cafe that's not been robbed.
Anyhoo, things are great here. The TEFL course was hard work but very rewarding and I think I've passed (results out next week). I'm now heading across to Lesoto for a couple of days - it's a whole new country you know - and then down to Hogsback to visit a friend from the TEFL course. After that I'll be having a look at the Wild Coast, the Garden route, and then making my way to Cape Town in time for my flight home on Dec the 2nd.
I'm (inevitably) now being kicked off the computer again so all the best to everyone, sorry for the lack of mails and stuff, keep texting the footy scores and I'll see you all soon...Nick
Wednesday, October 08, 2003
MORE TESTS
So, does it work? I'd say so. Off to South Africa in a few hours so will hopefully have a chance to post up a note to say that I've arrived at some point over the weekend.
So, does it work? I'd say so. Off to South Africa in a few hours so will hopefully have a chance to post up a note to say that I've arrived at some point over the weekend.
TESTING TESTING
Just testing
Just testing
