He’s dead, Jim.
Finding this unfortunate fellow by the roadside did nothing to diminish our appetites, nor our enjoyment of a superb lunch at the Black Oystercatcher.
Now, a collection of quills sits in the car as the kids build sandcastles on Struisbaai beach. Later, there will be beer and a braai.
Life is tough at the Southern Tip.
Here’s somewhere we’ve driven past on many occasions and finally managed to drop in on: Gabrielskloof
Just outside Bot Rivier on the N2 – beyond the Hermanus turn, but before the over-rated Dassiesfontein – it’s a wine and olive estate, has viewz for dayz and serves up some pretty amazing food, by all accounts.
It was a bit early for lunch, so I had the food pairing with some of their red wines and Mrs 6000 did the wine and chocolate pairing, R70 & R60 respectively. Both were superb.
I’ll put the full details of what was what on here once I’m back in Cape Town (taking a photo being easier than documenting the tasting menu any other way).
UPDATE: Here it is!
We had a quick look at the restaurant: fairly kid friendly and the food looked fantastic; we’ll give it a go next time.
I was watching a couple of back episodes of The Blacklist last night on PVR and I was left bewildered by the censoring of certain parts of the audio.
Before we continue, let me point out that I am well aware of my responsibilities as a parent. I am also aware that I can switch the “family” audio selection (which silences “naughty” words) on or off, and that actually, I’m glad that we have that option: I don’t want my kids hearing the f-word every two minutes on the movie channel (or whatever).
I’m also happy to acknowledge that it’s my fault that I always forget to switch the “family” audio selection off before I start watching my stuff.
But those things are not really what this post is about.
Last night’s first episode (S01E09: “Anslo Garrick”, for the purists) centres around the main character, Raymond ‘Red’ Reddington – a successful, and seemingly untouchable “fixer” now turned FBI informant – being cornered by the horribly-scarred, revenge-seeking soldier of fortune Anslo Garrick, who we are told: “almost exclusively works with a group of heavily armed, highly skilled mercenaries who call themselves The Wild Bunch: former flag wavers made over in Frankenstein-like fashion into bloodless, country-less killers”.
Nice guys.
As Reddington states:
Why not let them have me, Donald?
I’ll likely be tortured for weeks and left to rot until they finally deign to put a bullet in my skull.
And within the first 5 minutes of the episode, The Wild Bunch have stormed the secret FBI facility, using silenced sub-machine guns to graphically tear apart the bodies of about 20 guards, and Garrick himself has needlessly shot a truck driver in the head at near point blank range, spraying his brain all over a truck window.
Another main character, Agent Ressler, has been shot in the leg and we can see the mix of blood, expensive suit, muscle tissue and bone, as he screams and writhes in agony on the floor of the bunker.
Now Garrick speaks to Reddington (who is trapped in a room, but currently “safe” behind blast-proof glass), his voice slow, hoarse and menacing:
Red, Red. Did you really think there was a distance you could cover or a hole deep enough that you could hide in? There is nowhere in this world that I cannot reach you, Red. Fortification be damned.
I heard you made yourself some sweet little immunity deal, Red. I heard that you fitted the FBI with strings, and now they hang upon your hip like a hatchet.But they can’t keep you safe from someone like me, Red, someone who sat in blackness for five years.
Five years thinking about the pain I was going to inflict on you while slowly breaking your will, your body… and finally your mind.
That day is here, my friend.
And it will end with your screams, as God is my witness.
One almost completely forgets the multiple implausibilities of the scene as one is gripped by the unfolding drama.
Except, after all this, DSTV silenced the word “God” out of that last line.
You know, just in case anyone got offended by it.
Now, maybe some people are offended by the use of the word “God” there, and, while I think that’s rather silly of them, that’s their right. But why on earth are those people watching this programme with its repeated and graphic portrayals of mindless, callous violence? The insidious psychological effect of the threats and description of torture?
At what point are they offended by a three-letter word and not by the scenes of spraying blood, the screams of dying young men, the emotionless brutality depicted time and time again as someone else’s son or daughter is torn apart in a hail of bullets?
Who are these people and why do they not find themselves offended by that?
The dichotomy leaves me bewildered.
The episode we watched last night was rated 13 VL by DSTV. That is: “containing scenes of violence, and language which may be unsuitable for viewers below the age of 13”.
The violence even had my [redacted] year old wife looking away. But again, that’s another story.
The language… well… the only word in the entire 45 minutes which was removed was that one “God” above (and by “above”, I mean above in this post, not “Who art in Heaven”, ok?).
I’m not quite sure why a 12 year old shouldn’t be allowed to hear the phrase “God is my witness”, given that in any decent Christian school (like the one mine go to, incidentally), they’ll surely read (for example) Romans 1:9 and/or Philippians 1:8, which both, as I’m sure you’ll be well aware, feature that very phrase. Does it come down to context? Are those references in the New Testament considered somehow sacred just because they appear in “that book”?
In which case, maybe I’ve answered my own question. Perhaps the violence bit is ok, simply because there are no Biblical references to soldiers’ bodies being ripped apart in a spray of automatic gunfire?
Who on earth are we trying to protect in censoring the word “God” here, and what on earth are we trying to protect them from?
While the hoi polloi continue to struggle under the hefty cosh of financial hardship, there’s some good news on the horizon. Apparently, all you have to do to avoid this sort of troublesome existence is to earn pots and pots of money.
Who knew?
But here’s the proof that those at the top of the tree aren’t really struggling very much at the moment:
TROPHY homes are back in vogue with estate agents reporting a strong increase in property sales in wealthy suburbs where price tags typically exceed R10m.
Lew Geffen, chairman of Sotheby’s International Realty in South Africa, on Tuesday described the top end of the market in Cape Town and Johannesburg as being “on fire”. Neither the upcoming election nor the prospect of further interest rate increases had done anything to slow demand for luxury housing.
Fortunately, I don’t think it’s the actual homes, so much as the market that Mr Geffen was referring to. And he’s not alone in his observation: Andrew Golding of Pam Golding Properties, Samuel Seeff of Seeff Properties and Dave Property24 of… er… well, never mind… all agree that sales of properties costing more than R10,000,000 are on the up, giving the media the opportunity to use phrases like “swanky homes” and “leafy suburbs”, in a completely irony-free piece centring around estate agents.
“Until recently, there has been little interest for properties priced above R10m in Constantia,” said Gerald Romanovsky of Rawson’s Constantia franchise. The change became evident soon after the start of this year when we suddenly found ourselves in a new ballpark, handling five or six genuine enquiries per month for this type of luxury property from both local and foreign buyers.”
For me, Gerald’s comments raise more questions than they give answers, namely as to why they haven’t been selling ballparks and exactly how many faux enquiries they’ve been handling each month around luxury property.
All in all (and heavily dependent on your political viewpoint), I suppose that it’s good news that there are still people out there with money to spend, whether it’s from within SA or from investors abroad. These people generally know what they are doing (or at least employ people who do) and if they are still happy to put large amounts of money into large houses here, then maybe things aren’t as bad as they seem.
One from the back garden last weekend. I really like it, so I’m leaving it really big.
A scene of contrasts, no?
It’s busy. There are the complicated lines of the restios and the spider web, but equally, with the dew, there’s the elegance and the tranquility of the early morning.
It’s light at the top. It’s dark at the bottom.
It’s intricate and detailed at the bottom. It’s all fuzzy and defocused at the top.
It was a lucky shot, made good by the subject, rather than the skill of the photographer, but I won’t tell anyone that.
As I said earlier, I really like it.
Bigger (if you think you can handle it) here.