Arniston – 6156 miles from civilisation…

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…yet still with an interwebs connection, albeit GPRS.

So here we are then. 11:30 Sunday morning and I’ve only been up 6 hours already. That’s because our Southern Cape self-catering accommodation fits the usual bill of Southern Cape self-catering accommodation by having tissue paper curtains which only allow the light in as soon as it gets light. In addition, it further demonstrates the accepted stereotype by having the world’s slowest flowing hot water. Even a shallow bath for the kids took forever to run last night. I’ve just turned the tap on ready for this evening, as bathtime is only 7 hours or so away.

Other than those expected aberrations, the place is actually pretty ropey. But that can easily be overlooked – literally, in fact – when you have a view out of the window like this .


Here’s what we’re dealing with this morning

Wow. That beach looks lonely – my beer and I had better go keep it company.
More later, sports fans…

Where have you been?

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Rumour and intrigue have been surrounding the recent paucity of posts on 6000 miles… There were pleas and rebukes on Facebook. There were personal emails filled with concern and bitter allegations. There was even a phone call, although to be fair, that turned out to be a wrong number. 
But while readers speculated wildly, none of them hit the nail on the head. I have mainly just been sleeping.


Mainly sleeping

The 6000 miles… Southern Cape Tour™ starts next week. Look out for live blogging from beyond the Overberg including (I hope) the southernmost blog posting in Africa from somewhere near a big stripy lighthouse.
Flickr should also be fairly busy, but maybe only once I get back, thanks to those pesky bandwidth regulations around Bredasdorp.

Doing the business in China

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Any takers to look the future with them for do the business?

I’m certainly tempted.

              

Pretty knackered

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Bouncebackability is something that kids have litres of. Or whatever unit bouncebackability is measured in.
Take a boy’s tonsils out on Monday (or get someone to do it for you) – and by Tuesday, he’s legging it around the house and garden and you’re left wondering if he really did have the op or if it was just a figment of your imagination.
But I’ve often thought that my boy has the speed gene, whose phenotypic manifestation means that unless he keeps going at 55mph or above, he will explode. All that can save him is Keanu Reeves hanging out of his bottom and then jumping into his nappy on the end of a cable in a shower of sparks. This will obviously all take place at Cape Town International Airport, once the construction work is completed.

In the meantime, the rest of the family is sick. The kitchen is awash with antibiotics and snot, and Kleenex shares have single-handedly lifted the JSE by about 6% since Tuesday. Ironically, Little Mr No Tonsils is the healthiest out of the lot of us. Still – best to get this nastiness out of the way before our Southern Cape Tour, which begins in 10 days time. But that is scant consolation at the moment as I sit here sweating, shaking, sniffing and wondering where the energy to pursue a rather rapid toddler around the garden is going to come from.

My parents fly out from the UK tonight to view their new(ish) grand-daughter (who, incidentally, has never met Russell Brand). I can only hope that they are not bringing their own viruses with them.
We have more than enough to share.