The weekend has ended. Damn.
I’ve watched some footy (some good, some bad), I’ve done some random woodwork, I’ve walked well into the 20,000s of steps and I’ve had to avoid gym because of a grumpy muscle pull.
Two lie-ins though, and that’s been lovely.
Back to normal life this week, with some big family events coming up.
Last week was pretty good, with a passed learners test, and a superb concert performance.
Let’s see what the next seven days will bring.
Another dreadful night for football, both at home and over in the UK, but there was at least this absolute thunderbeagle from Gustavo Hamer:
It didn’t do any good at the end of the night, as we seemingly head into another season of doom and gloom, but will have to go down as one of the best goals ever scored by a Sheffield United player.
In other – better – news, I’m off to watch my daughter sing in a concert this evening, and this only hours after she passed her learners’ licence test.
Watch out for another L-plated menace taking to the roads any day now…
Phew. Almost out of time today, so just time to squeeze a couple of good news stories in.
Our geyser (hot water cylinder) deposited a few hundred litres of hot water all over the front garden yesterday, after a pressure release valve… released. It didn’t come through the ceiling, which was good, but it couldn’t be (legally) repaired, because the geyser was a relatively old geyser.
Still, fair play to our insurers and to Everlight Plumbing, who sorted out the issue with the minimum of fuss and the maximum of efficiency. We now have a new geyser and also we have hot water again. Thank [deity].
And then the final appointment for Little Miss 6000 with the surgeon after her recent op. And a clean bill of health. She even managed her first singing lesson this afternoon, which went much better than we could have hoped. And that’s good, given that she has to perform in a concert a week today.
But now I’m off for dinner, taking my passport for the journey all the way beyond the Hospital Bend and into town. The food looks lovely, but it does also look like it’s being served at a restaurant… in town.
And one that isn’t Dias Tavern.
Scary times.
Not me. I’ve been here all along.
Nope – it’s back to the Mother City for Little Miss 6000 and her classmates. Communication has been sporadic, but I know that it was a cold queue at the border crossing this morning:
To be fair, it wasn’t that much warmer down here last night.
They seem to have a great time though, and the photos of the scenery from the N7 aren’t half bad:
It will be great to have all the family back together. Red wine, roaring fire, good times… and – I would imagine – a very early night.
It has made me think that we need to head up that way again soon. Yes, further even than this.
Little Miss 6000 has left the country. I know this because we have one of those apps which tells us where she is, and where she is is not in this country. I’m not too perturbed about this: we have known that she would leaving the country today for quite some time, and I’m hopeful that before she comes back to this country – sort of medium-term permanently (see below) at the end of the week – that she’ll have a great time.
Crossing country borders is equal parts exciting and annoying. And in these days of air travel, we often forget that there are two parts to it: leaving one and entering the other. But when crossing land borders, this is brought home to you in no uncertain terms. Especially quieter border posts, where each official seems personally offended by actually having to do something in processing a traveler.
LM 6000 signed out of South Africa with the maximum of fuss, effort, admin and paperwork in Vioolsdrif, crossed a bridge over the Orange River and took this photo out of the bus window…
[you can see why they called it the Orange River/s]
…in no-man’s land (are we still allowed to say that?), before entering Namibia about 750m later at the Noordoewer border post with the maximum of fuss, effort, admin and paperwork.
Two separate countries, two separate buildings, 54000 different documents required by each.
The weird thing is that in paddling down the Orange River – the “middle” of which marks the boundary between SA and Namibia here – her whole group will be repeatedly crossing from one country to the other without any form of fuss, effort, admin or paperwork at all. When we did this trip 8 years [weeps] ago, we even camped in alternate countries each night.
Human imposed borders are sometimes bizarre things.
Ag, just looking at that screenshot is making me jealous. The landscape there is beyond lunar. It’s stark, angular and unforgiving, with that incongruous green strip right through the middle of it.
But it’s also absolutely breathtaking:
It’s been a long day. Meet-up was 4:30am this morning, for a 5am departure, and no-one sleeps properly when they are excited about a week away in another country or they have a 3:45am alarm set.
A good night’s sleep tonight will do no-one any harm. Some of us will get up tomorrow morning and live our daily lives, with jobs to do, tasks to complete and all that other mundane stuff. Some of us will get up tomorrow and set off on an adventure down (some of) Africa’s 6th biggest river.
I know where I’d rather be.