(There was a lot less snow yesterday.) We probably went over a lot of other stuff as well, but I either wasn’t looking at it or didn’t recognise it. As we swooped in for a northward landing, I did notice that there was Congestion Before Victoria.
Obviously.
A good trip in general, I think. I hope I got everything that they wanted. Many kilometres were covered. A few challenges, but there are always going to be a few challenges. The cutest little airport. One dodgy hotel. One amazing hotel (thankfully in that order). HEAT! Wildlife. Birds.
Potholes. Scenery. Friendly people. Interesting stories. HEAT! Much fruit. Some cracking biltong.
And now, back to it. A good night’s sleep last night, some catch-up at gym this morning – hard work after a week off – and while I did well over 10,000 steps each day, the opportunity and environment were wholly unsuitable for a run.
And today? Some decent coffee, maybe a beer or two, and the intention to watch a lot of football this afternoon.
With all the analysts, experts and common sense telling us that SA is about to go to even more pot after the upcoming elections; with the UK in danger – allegedly – of becoming a failed state; with wars in the Middle East and the ex-Soviet Union (and everywhere else that we don’t get to hear about); with Trump looking like even a possibility for re-election in the US, you might be forgiven for wondering how on earth we ended up in this situation.
Alasdair Beckett-King (you may remember him from such posts as Day 417 – King Lear redux) is also rightfully incredulous:
The thing is, even though it’s quite clear what has actually brought us to this (Alasdair inadvertently touches upon it above, in case you were still wondering), realistically, it’s not like our collective idiocy is going to change anytime soon.
“Surely it can’t get any worse, though, right?” he asked for the 8,114th time in the last 5 years.
You join me traversing South Africa. Bottom left to top right. I’m on a teeny tiny plane, and there’s “lots of weather all over South Africa”, according to the captain.
That’s not good, because we’re also very much all over South Africa.
It has been unpleasantly bouncy so far.
The inflight magazine contains the usual plethora of advertorials: guest houses and safari lodges dominate, but there was a beautiful juxtaposition of an industrial rock crushing equipment supplier across the page from a laser tooth whitening service.
To avoid disappointment (and possibly a lot of pain), please make sure you ring the correct number.
In the same magazine, there’s the usual puff piece about the airline you’re on, and how they’re better than the other airlines. They advertise some of those differences as being “more smiles”, which I’m fairly sure aren’t objectively quantifiable SI units, and the opportunity to “say goodbye to rigid itineraries”.
Really?
Is it just me that quite likes the idea of a rigid itinerary when booking travel tickets? I can’t imagine that it is. It’s literally one of the most important things that I’m after.
For example, I’m hopeful that my accommodation for this evening is fairly rigidly booked. It really wouldn’t be helpful for them to be flexible enough to be “just a day out”.
Could you maybe pop back tomorrow please, Sir?
We seem to have finally hit some clean air, over what I’m guessing is the southern Free State. This means that I can stop thinking about flight safety statistics and engineering tolerances as mind-over-matter means of combatting the mentally challenging effects of the turbulence.
Aaand it’s back already. That didn’t last long. Quite bad. Tumble drier on a rollercoaster stuff, if you remember that post about the Christchurch earthquake that I can’t link to right now because I’m 37,000 feet up in the air. (Updated once safely on the ground.)
Really bad now. Not nice. Gasps and exclamations from passengers. I’m being stoic. Who would be listening anyway?
We’re turning. The pilots have had enough. Not back to Cape Town, but presumably looking for a bit of a clearer way around the bumpy stuff. Thank you.
Ok. About an hour to go. Agricultural landscape giving way to mining and industry beneath me.
Time to relax with some chilled electronica (it’s M83 in case you were wondering), stop thinking about thatother stuff. and plan those first few shots again.
Heading down to Agulhas today, so here are a couple of Facebook’s translation efforts from the local group down there. Because who could forget Election Rib Frame, and all the hilarity that went with it.
Facebook’s translation software is good, but it’s really not perfect. Especially when it comes to Afrikaans.
“Rate this translation”? Literally: very good. Actually: Ridiculous.
Or this one:
Anyone get this one? Yes. It’s the cure for moles. Not the ones on the skin around your ass. The small f*&^#*g mammal that digs up your garden.
But Facebook can’t work out the context here, because the Afrikaans word “gat” meaning “hole” is also the slang for “ass”. (Incidentally, the word “slang” is Afrikaans for “snake”, which is probably your best bet for sorting out a mole problem, but still…)
So breaking down the edges of the hole and putting ground (not instant) coffee in there is apparently the way forward. Moles don’t like it. Silly creatures.
Or just scratch your ass open and pour coffee. Whichever you fancy more.
