Quick joke

What do you call a Frenchman fighting a tiger?

Claude.

I laughed. Briefly.

I’ve been at a neighbourhood committee meeting for the past 3½ hours. My sense of humour might be slightly warped as a result.

Orange Orange River

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.

Here’s what happened today

The run went “ok”, thanks for asking. Cold, hilly, muddy. Fun. My boy beat me by half a minute, exorcising the ghosts of the infamous Inch Beach Parkrun of 2023. But we finished in (I think) 5th and 6th out of 70-odd runners, and I can’t really complain about that.

My legs might complain about it tomorrow morning though.

But that wasn’t the only success of the day. And I fully recognise that this is a personal and niche success, but…

Managing somehow to rewire the light on the braai without having to resort to external help was a big win for me. Sure, it took a while, and yes, it was fiddly and awkward, but now we have a braai light that works, and so we had a braai to celebrate.

An illuminated one.

Lovely.

Hope to run

Nice family day today. Meeting at school, and then a dash to distribute 80+ blankets to a baby charity in Retreat, thanks to Mrs 6000’s amazing organisation for a Mandela Day project. They will make a huge difference.

We got Little Miss 6000 an appointment for her learners test (now feeling old).

A quick walk on Muizenberg beach and then lunch overlooking the sea, complete with a breaching whale, before heading home to head out to horse riding (not me).

And tomorrow… Up early for a charity trail run. If I can. Still a bit battered and bruised from football, but determined to get out there and give it a go. I might end up walking it though.

It promises to be a crisp, cold morning. I’ll try to remember to take the camera.