Category: economic issues

Should I pay or should I go?

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File under: titles which sounded good at the time, Blog post

BA have asked me very nicely if I’d like to pay R225 (their version of £20, with the Rand’s current stupidly high levels) for the privilege of choosing my seat for my flight to London next month. And they also offered me the chance to pay the same amount again to choose my seat on the flight back.
Having long legs and being sat on a plane for 12 hours is no fun (although it’s really cool the rest of the time). If you have young kids, you get one of those bulkhead seats, which is better; but what the journey giveth, the journey taketh away, because then you’re travelling with young kids. I covered the trials and tribulations of that about a year ago. Good post, that.

I was almost tempted with BA’s generous offer until I found out that my R225 wouldn’t actually allow me to choose a decent – and by “decent”, I mean “exit row” – seat.
No – I have to cough up £50 each way for that. And that’s a lot of money. Especially when you convert it into a universal currency that everyone can understand: dollars beer. I can’t actually book those seats until 14 days before I fly, but working on BA’s current exchange rate, £50 = R562.50. And at bottle store prices, that’s more than 102 bottles of Carling Black Label.

Each. Way.

So, no. I’ll take my chances with the normal 24 hour online check in and I’ll settle for an aisle seat. Virtually any aisle seat. And if I don’t get an aisle seat and I have a dreadful flight, then I’ll reconsider booking an aisle seat for the return journey for £20.

And I have a good day to look forward to when I arrive. Tickets are in the process of being acquired for the undisputed Match of that Day, Bristol City versus Sheffield United, which I am very excited about and which means my journey from Cape Town to Sheffield will take about 26 hours. Plus check-in time. Plus getting to the airport early so the kids can come along and see me through the departure gate.
Bring forth those 102 bottles of Carling Black Label. And a couple of Red Bulls as well.

In other news (and somewhat off-topic), please take the time to look at this:
5 Things That Have Been Found In Fat People’s Skin Folds

Spar/Simba: Good news on potato supply

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Spar have featured a couple of times before on 6000 miles… with their notes about Ricoffy and their bizarre It DOES NOT INCLUDE CHUNKY outburst. Now they’re back at it, publishing a blame-shifting, buck-passing photocopied note from Alan Henderson CEO/BUGM of Simba (Pty) Ltd. on their shelves.
Here it is (bigger here):

Simba make potato crisps, although it seems that they haven’t been making many of them recently.

But Alan has some good news for his Valued Customer – namely that the situation has developed in line with the scenario which he laid out in his last note. Pretty much, anyway. This either shows acute business acumen or some degree of clairvoyancy. I think I might get him to do my Lotto numbers this week. Pretty much, anyway.
Anyway, the upshot of his amazing predictive powers is that from the 20th September (“Week 39” in crisp speak), they should be up to full production with their contracted potatoes.

At this point, I’d like to pose a question: what sort of sicko company contracts potatoes to make potato crisps? That’s like getting a cow to work in a slaughterhouse or a bunch of grapes to help out at harvest time in Stellenbosch. I guess this comes down to workers’ rights again – you can almost see the fat cat bosses shouting down from the offices at their potato staff on the factory floor:

“Get on with it or you’ll be next to be peeled and fried! Muhahahaha!”

Yep, that’s probably what happens at Simba. Probably.

Alan then talks technical about his pipeline being relatively dry. I’m not sure what we’re supposed to take from this. It seems to me that you require some sort of prior knowledge of the potato crisp manufacturing process to work out what effect this relatively dry pipeline might have on the general supply of potato crisps. Is having a relatively dry pipeline a good thing or not?
I’m guessing that it probably is, as your crisps would surely go soggy in a damp or wet pipeline.

No-one likes a soggy crisp. It’s an oxymoron, moron.

Clearly, as Alan says, he has an agro strategic issue to deal with. Damn straight – and that’s nothing to what he’ll have if Zwelinzima Vavi and his COSATU buddies find out how he’s treating those spuds on his production line. Then there’ll be real aggro: Potato pickers proactively picketing the potato plantation, preventing picking and prolonging the preparation and production of potato products. Possibly.

For that reason, Alan has drafted in Rod Robinson from North America to be his fall guy Operations Director. Rod is the guy that will be sent out of the barricaded Simba headquarters to receive the memorandum of demands from assembled hoards of aggrieved trade unionists and root vegetables. More pay, better working conditions, longer soil breaks, no compulsory slicing and frying our own kind etc. You know the kind of thing.
Poor Rod won’t know what he’s let himself in for. They might even peel him.

And what better time to strike as we approach the peak season? While Alan has high hopes for the last quarter now that the alleged seven week potato shortage is over, the Trade Onions may have other ideas.

The good news is that you will be the first to know via this blog. And Spar. And Simba. And Alan.

And then…

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A couple of days ago, I had a bit of a pop at Karibu restaurant for their really terrible performance – particularly as we are trying to impress the huge number of tourists during the World Cup (aren’t we?).
And then… I realised that there is more to impressing the tourists than tacky Waterfront restaurants – stuff that we humans can’t actually mess up. I took the family (tourists, over here for the World Cup) for a trip around the peninsular, which is a pretty touristy thing to do. And if you are a tourist over here for the World Cup (and I know you’re reading this blog in your ones) then you should do this.

We took in breathtaking vistas, saw a breaching Southern Right Whale at Llandudno, admired the crashing waves at Misty Cliffs, sat watching a troop of baboons near Cape Point and then went to see the penguins at Boulders.
And that was where things really kicked off – if you pardon the footballing pun.

Because while we were enjoying the penguins – not in a carnal sense, obviously – there was a little commotion out in the bay.
Dolphins. Hundreds of the buggers:

And instantly, people were staring away from the funny little waddling birds (who took the opportunity to try some unobserved flying practice). “Ooh! Dolphins! Look at the dolphins!” they exclaimed in various different languages.

But my brother was looking at something else. Probably because he doesn’t understand Italian or Japanese for “Ooh! Dolphins! Look at the dolphins!”. My brother was looking at the two, possibly three Killer Whales which were following the pod of dolphins, presumably eating one or two every now and again.

Yes. It’s a whale, but it’s very Jaws, isn’t it?
Der dum. Der dum. Der dum dum dum, Der dum dum dum… etc.

The tourists were in their element. Hell – I was even quite impressed. The penguins were annoyed – after all, this was their gig and no-one was watching anymore. But generally, the mood was one of excitement and enjoyment.

I hope that the tourists have made it away from the tacky Waterfront restaurants. I hope that they didn’t have to queue for too long to get up the Mountain and that they took the time to go and see what else the Cape has to offer. Because, if they did, they’re coming back – and they’re bringing their friends, family and even their neighbours.
So never mind, Karibu. Maybe you haven’t ruined everything. There’s enough elsewhere to make up for your deficiencies.

Probably. Just.

P.S. Winelands/Peninsular photos here.
P.P.S. Portugal v  North Korea photos here.

That Karibu Review

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Last night we went out to Karibu restaurant on the Waterfront. Now, I know what you’re thinking: tourist trap. And you’re right.
For the amount of money that you spend there, you could have a really decent meal at a really decent restaurant in Cape Town. Or even Franschhoek, if you could afford the petrol. But last night we were with tourists and we went in to the experience fully aware that we were going to be overcharged for our evening. Note that the benchmark 2009 Beyerskloof Pinotage (available for R40 retail at the vineyard earlier in the day) was a monumental and record breaking R145 a bottle. Ouch!

But like I said – we went in with our eyes open, so that was fine.

Let’s start with the positive. Singular. The food was good. Not exceptional. Not OMG-I’m-going-to-have-to-stop-eating-and-phone-Cape-Talk wonderful, but pretty good. Which was nice.

Sadly, the positive ended there. Lets start with our waitress, who I shall not name and shame, save to say that she was named after a German car company. Beginning with M. And ending with ercedes. You might be able to work it out – I don’t know.
She couldn’t speak English. Now I know that South Africa has 11 official languages, but I’m willing to bet that her Afrikaans, Ndebele, Northern Sotho, Sotho, Swazi, Tswana, Tsonga, Venda, Xhosa and Zulu weren’t up to much either. Her Spanish was probably awesome, but mine is rubbish, so that wouldn’t have helped much either.

Let me give you an example. I told her what I wanted for my starter; she wrote it down. I told her what I wanted for my main course; she wrote it down. And then she asked me what I wanted for my starter. Of course, she meant what would I like to have as a side order for my main course, but she didn’t know how to say that in English. Fundamentals.
Still – that was better than my brother who was given a random side order for his main course (not having been asked) and my mother, who was given the wrong side order with her main course. I got the wrong starter (unsurprisingly), my wife didn’t get her glass of water and the manager had to come and confirm what my main course was, because the kitchen didn’t know. Not great.

We were asked if the TV (right next to our table for the football) was too loud, which it was, so they turned it down. Then they pumped the sound through the restaurant music system anyway, so we had to shout over the commentary, never mind the vuvuzelas. Why bother?
The tablecloth was dirty, the napkins hadn’t been dried properly since being washed and the cutlery still had dried… something… on from the last diner. Or maybe even the one before.
It was poor. Really, really poor.

Look, I don’t mind paying through the nose for a “tourist” thing ever now and again when I’m with tourists. But for that money, I expect better than the dreadful service and tatty surroundings.
The waitress got a R3 tip on a R1,497 bill.
Having said that, she did get a free hint, as well.

The sad thing is that with the World Cup on at the moment, the Waterfront is full of tourists who now think that Karibu “South African Dining” represents the average SA restaurant, when nothing could be further from the truth.
When the biggest benefit for this country from this World Cup is the positive experiences that our visitors have while they are over here and their recommendations of SA as a holiday destination to their friends, family and countrymen, places like Karibu are scoring us a big own goal.

Avoid costly mobile phone bills while in South Africa

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I can’t actually believe that I’m writing this. This sort of thing is so basic, it shouldn’t need to be written. And that’s going to open the floodgates to all sorts of other basic advice posts like how to wipe your bum after going to the toilet and how you should use a spoon instead of a fork when eating soup. Stuff you really shouldn’t need to be told.
It’s a road I don’t want to go down, but Sky News have forced me to with this article on their website:

World Cup Warning: £80 To Post Photos Online
World Cup ticket holders may need to resist the temptation to make friends envious by posting pictures online using their mobile phones, a customer group has warned.
Consumer Focus calculated that the cost of uploading just 10 photos to Facebook from South Africa could result in an eye-watering £80 bill from a UK mobile operator.

The article goes on to say that visitors should look for an internet cafe to use while they are here, or stock up on text and data bundles before they head over. But there’s a much better way, isn’t there?

My #worldcuphost mode kicks in.
If you’re  coming over for the World Cup, your first stop after the airport and the pub should be a supermarket or post office. There, you can pick up a Vodacom or MTN SIM card, which will cost no more than R1. That’s a whole 9 pence. You’ll need to have your passport with you to register the SIM in your name.
Stock up with some airtime from the friendly cashier, put that new SIM card in your phone – don’t forget to take your UK one out first – and use it for the duration of your stay.
That’s it, there are no more instructions.

Texts back to Blighty will cost around R1.50 (14p) each and data is around R2/MB (that’s 18p).
Train smash averted.

What? You remain unconvinced and  need some further encouragement that this is the correct way to go? Then let me help you out with an ever so basic example.
I’ve done some rudimentary calculations and I reckon that with the current exchange rate at about £1/R11.25 and the average price of a bottle of beer in a pub of R15, that £80 quid you were about to waste on Facebook could get you 60 (sixty!) extra bottles of beer.

I think you should send a few of them my way, don’t you?