I'm not sure if it is the warm weather, blue skies or onset of Spring, but many of my kindle books will be going on Free Promotion at Amazon in the next few days. Please share this with your friends and mark the free promotion dates on your calendar. If you download one of my books, please be so kind as to leave a review on Amazon.
Free Promotions - Children's Books
The Lost Keys - free from 29th to 31st March 2014
Fighting Fisi - free from 29th to 31st March 2014
The Midnight Mouse free from 28th to 29th March 2014
Free Promotions - Novels
Defective - free from 28th to 31st March 2014
C U @ 8 - free from 29th March to 1st April 2014
Free Promotions - Travel Diary
The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari - free from 30th to 31st March 2014
Kindle Countdown Deals
Hush Baby will be 99c from the 24th to 27th March; and $1.99 from the 27th to 31st March 2014.
Fear, Phobias and Frozen Feet will be 99c from the 27th to 30th March; and $1.99 from the 30th March until the 2nd April 2014.
Showing posts with label The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari. Show all posts
Saturday, March 22, 2014
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Woo hoo Cape Town!
After a hectic sports weekend with swimming gala and kiddie triathlon, last Monday saw us up at 3am to leave at 4am to get to the airport for our three flights to Cape Town. Kilimanjaro to Nairobi, only a 45 minute flight and we saw amazing views of Mount Kilimanjaro rising above the clouds. It really is a very very big mountain. At Nairobi we boarded our flight at the stated time, ready for the next leg to Johannesburg. Unfortunately, they had a problem with the air traffic controllers, so we had to wait on the runway in a queue for an hour and a half. Luckily, the plane wasn't full so I could stretch out next to me and sleep for the period we were delayed. Unfortunately, that meant that we were an hour and a half late getting into Johannesburg, so instead of grabbing a quick lunch at the airport Spur Steakhouse, we had 20 minutes to run from the International Arrival terminal to the Domestic Arrival Terminal. Everybody said we wouldn't make it, but we did, arriving huffing and puffing, stinking with sweat, ready to board. Of course, there was no way that they could remove our luggage from Air Kenya and load it onto Comair in 20 minutes, so we arrived in Cape Town without our luggage. This is getting to be a bit of a habit for us. My Mom took us shopping for clothes until our luggage arrived, so that was a bonus. It did arrive the next day, we collected it and hired a car, a little KIA with enough boot space to hide a mouse and that's all.
Wednesday I saw the breast specialist and he found a problem with my 'healthy' left breast. Two fine needle biopsies later, two mammograms, several ultrasounds and the results were still worringly inconclusive. Seven years ago almost to the day, I went through all of this with the right breast, ending up with a diagnosis of two kinds of cancer and a tramflap mastectomy. I'm not sure I can mentally and emotionally go through all of that again. I do feel like hitting well-meaning people who tell me I'm strong and can handle it, when they weren't there the first time and never witnessed what it was like, and never experienced it themselves. I've decided to wait until after Christmas for the core biopsy they want to do, where they remove some of the tissue. With friends visiting, I don't want to ruin Christmas.
Yesterday, we explored the Cape Peninsula, and although I took them along Chapman's Peak because I know the scenery is stunning, I couldn't look at it myself. For some reason, Chapman's Peak terrifies me, I keep feeling as if I'm going to drive over the edge. It might be something to do with my fear of heights
Shopping, sight-seeing, splashing in the waves. This is the life. Until the money runs out.
Sunday we had one of those eaarly family Christmas lunches, the ones you do when you have step-siblings. Two families, you only can spend Christmas day with one of them. It is hard.
Off to explore the wine route today! Hic!
love
Cindy
Wednesday I saw the breast specialist and he found a problem with my 'healthy' left breast. Two fine needle biopsies later, two mammograms, several ultrasounds and the results were still worringly inconclusive. Seven years ago almost to the day, I went through all of this with the right breast, ending up with a diagnosis of two kinds of cancer and a tramflap mastectomy. I'm not sure I can mentally and emotionally go through all of that again. I do feel like hitting well-meaning people who tell me I'm strong and can handle it, when they weren't there the first time and never witnessed what it was like, and never experienced it themselves. I've decided to wait until after Christmas for the core biopsy they want to do, where they remove some of the tissue. With friends visiting, I don't want to ruin Christmas.
Yesterday, we explored the Cape Peninsula, and although I took them along Chapman's Peak because I know the scenery is stunning, I couldn't look at it myself. For some reason, Chapman's Peak terrifies me, I keep feeling as if I'm going to drive over the edge. It might be something to do with my fear of heights
Shopping, sight-seeing, splashing in the waves. This is the life. Until the money runs out.
Sunday we had one of those eaarly family Christmas lunches, the ones you do when you have step-siblings. Two families, you only can spend Christmas day with one of them. It is hard.
Off to explore the wine route today! Hic!
love
Cindy
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
NaNoWriMo is killing me
One has to wonder why we intentionally place stress upon ourselves. Why we have the urge to challenge and push ourselves when we could just be spending free moments sunning ourselves in the garden with a good book. NaNoWriMo happens every year in the month of November, when crazy people decide to write a novel of a minimum of 50 000 words. Yep, this is not a joke, thousands of people all over the world take up this challenge. Being a little bit crazy myself, I decided to take up the challenge again this year, as I had managed it successfully last year. this year I worked out a more detailed plot scheme so it would be easier to write. However, with my current work load it's not always possible to write the required amount of words each day. This is causing me stress. One of the things to suffer in the month of November, is my blog. Today I thought to hell with it, let me at least update my blog before I get back to writing to try and make today's target.
The latest news, is that The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari
is now available on Amazon. Now I put pressure on myself planning the next adventure to write about. June/July we're going to backpack through Egypt and the Middle East. This has been a dream of mine ever since I was a teenager. When I was about fifteen, all I wanted was to go and work and live on a kibbutz in Israel!
Our flights for Cape Town in December are booked. We'll be leaving on the 13th December at some ungodly hour. With Kerri flying in from China it's going to be a great holiday! Part of the holiday we'll be staying at the family house on the Garden Route near Knysna. I'm counting the sleeps already, but I have to conquer NaNoWriMo first! Hopefully, can get a lot of writing done tonight and tomorrow morning as it's a public holiday.
Siobhan has been very active of late, taking part in a netball tournament, a horse show and this past weekend - she climbed Little Meru which is 3801m high! One of the highlights for her, was one of our teachers who accompanied the students on the trip, who just so happened to be Australian (of course), who wore shorts, leggings and flip flops when everybody was wearing serious below-zero clothing!

My rating: 2 of 5 stars
I was looking forward to this, not having read John Grisham for a while. Normally, I am caught up from page 1, but for some reason the story seemed to drag and it took me until three quarters of the way through to be gripped to read for greater lengths of time. The plot was a bit same-old, same-old, not fresh at all. The ending was very different though, in that there wasn't one. There was no closure, no sense of satisfaction, in fact I double-checked to see that the last few pages hadn't come loose and fallen out. The story just stopped ending so up in the air, it seemed unfinished. It wasn't a twist ending, it just stopped. It was almost as if his editor had given him an impossible deadline to meet. The first three-quarters was bordering on the tedious, the next bit was the usual gripping Grisham content you're come to expect, and then it stopped. I know I've said that a couple of times, but I'm just astounded it stopped when it did. Die-hard fans might still enjoy it, but there are so many other crime novelists with courtroom dramas around these days that have surpassed this quality of book. Yeah, I am a bit disappointed with this read.
View all my reviews
The latest news, is that The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari
Our flights for Cape Town in December are booked. We'll be leaving on the 13th December at some ungodly hour. With Kerri flying in from China it's going to be a great holiday! Part of the holiday we'll be staying at the family house on the Garden Route near Knysna. I'm counting the sleeps already, but I have to conquer NaNoWriMo first! Hopefully, can get a lot of writing done tonight and tomorrow morning as it's a public holiday.
Siobhan has been very active of late, taking part in a netball tournament, a horse show and this past weekend - she climbed Little Meru which is 3801m high! One of the highlights for her, was one of our teachers who accompanied the students on the trip, who just so happened to be Australian (of course), who wore shorts, leggings and flip flops when everybody was wearing serious below-zero clothing!
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
I was looking forward to this, not having read John Grisham for a while. Normally, I am caught up from page 1, but for some reason the story seemed to drag and it took me until three quarters of the way through to be gripped to read for greater lengths of time. The plot was a bit same-old, same-old, not fresh at all. The ending was very different though, in that there wasn't one. There was no closure, no sense of satisfaction, in fact I double-checked to see that the last few pages hadn't come loose and fallen out. The story just stopped ending so up in the air, it seemed unfinished. It wasn't a twist ending, it just stopped. It was almost as if his editor had given him an impossible deadline to meet. The first three-quarters was bordering on the tedious, the next bit was the usual gripping Grisham content you're come to expect, and then it stopped. I know I've said that a couple of times, but I'm just astounded it stopped when it did. Die-hard fans might still enjoy it, but there are so many other crime novelists with courtroom dramas around these days that have surpassed this quality of book. Yeah, I am a bit disappointed with this read.
View all my reviews
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You get 1,000 points, with my compliments, to use on Freado.com - the world's biggest book winning site. My book - 'Not Telling', appears in the games on this site. Just click anywhere in this box, and follow the instructions.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Stuck on a merry-go-round
Occasionally, life begins to feel as if you're stuck on an ever-faster spinning merry-go-round, and you cling fearfully onto the thin leather reigns of your bright red circus horse to avoid being flung off into the back of beyond somewhere. My life was starting to feel like that, so much to do, so little time and the weight of exhaustion and fatigue was dragging me down. Throw in several bouts of chronic hayfever and seemingly endless meetings and you'll start to get the picture. All of that is normal end-of-term sentiments for any teacher anywhere in the world. It's that that makes us grimace and smile through gritted teeth when people refer to teaching as a half-day job with great holidays. Teachers need the holidays the same way that parents need term-time. We all want a break from the little blighters!
This past October break, Siobhan and I headed to Nairobi in Kenya. We managed to get doctor's appointments with a top endocrinologist there, had a mammogram and then attended a week long conference in Nairobi. Nairobi is great! We had been warned that it can be quite dangerous and should rather be called Nairobbery, but I have to say, we felt quite safe there. In the end I didn't drive there but went in the shuttle bus which was quite pleasant. My car was only operating on 3 cylinders, so had to have an engine overhaul. It was probably a good thing I didn't drive there, as the traffic in Nairobi is unbelievable and I wouldn't have known where to find the fantastic shopping malls! We are totally in love with Village Market and the Java Houses at some of the malls. We spent three days in different malls, watched a movie each day in the cinema and had a ball. Of course, it goes without saying that we spent way too much money! There are so many hospitals in Nairobi and the ones we visited were top class. I never got the results or mammogram film though, but the endocrinologist gave me some new thyroid meds and my tiredness and exhaustion has evaporated and I feel like I am that super-charged pink bunny in the duracell adverts. My feet and ankles swelled up during the conference, the week after I saw the doctor, with quite a severe oedema, which I imagine is from all the sitting I did. The 8 hour bus ride back to Moshi exasperated it, and they haven't yet gone back to normal. I feel like I am walking around with huge cushions on the end of my leg-bones. I should put my feet up, but have so much writing to do. On top of that, I seem to have picked up a bladder infection, so while I feel like a bundle of energy, I actually feel quite yucky with my swollen feet and burning bladder.
Talking about writing, I've finally completed The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari and it's gone to the publisher and they posted me the proof copy today. I'm now all set for NaNoWriMo which is National Novel Writing Month which happens every November each year. The goal is to write 50 000 words in a month. During the only boring workshop at the conference, I worked out my character sketches, setting and plot outline for the novel I plan to write during November. So, I guess you can say I used my time wisely and am rearing to go! The new novel is going to be called Defective, and I think the plot-line is a goodie! I can't wait for the first of November so I can start writing!
This past October break, Siobhan and I headed to Nairobi in Kenya. We managed to get doctor's appointments with a top endocrinologist there, had a mammogram and then attended a week long conference in Nairobi. Nairobi is great! We had been warned that it can be quite dangerous and should rather be called Nairobbery, but I have to say, we felt quite safe there. In the end I didn't drive there but went in the shuttle bus which was quite pleasant. My car was only operating on 3 cylinders, so had to have an engine overhaul. It was probably a good thing I didn't drive there, as the traffic in Nairobi is unbelievable and I wouldn't have known where to find the fantastic shopping malls! We are totally in love with Village Market and the Java Houses at some of the malls. We spent three days in different malls, watched a movie each day in the cinema and had a ball. Of course, it goes without saying that we spent way too much money! There are so many hospitals in Nairobi and the ones we visited were top class. I never got the results or mammogram film though, but the endocrinologist gave me some new thyroid meds and my tiredness and exhaustion has evaporated and I feel like I am that super-charged pink bunny in the duracell adverts. My feet and ankles swelled up during the conference, the week after I saw the doctor, with quite a severe oedema, which I imagine is from all the sitting I did. The 8 hour bus ride back to Moshi exasperated it, and they haven't yet gone back to normal. I feel like I am walking around with huge cushions on the end of my leg-bones. I should put my feet up, but have so much writing to do. On top of that, I seem to have picked up a bladder infection, so while I feel like a bundle of energy, I actually feel quite yucky with my swollen feet and burning bladder.
Talking about writing, I've finally completed The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari and it's gone to the publisher and they posted me the proof copy today. I'm now all set for NaNoWriMo which is National Novel Writing Month which happens every November each year. The goal is to write 50 000 words in a month. During the only boring workshop at the conference, I worked out my character sketches, setting and plot outline for the novel I plan to write during November. So, I guess you can say I used my time wisely and am rearing to go! The new novel is going to be called Defective, and I think the plot-line is a goodie! I can't wait for the first of November so I can start writing!
Have a great weekend! There's a wedding across the road from me with a brass band, so I guess I won't be getting much sleep tonight! Hopefully, the bride and groom will want to slip away quite early for their wedding night! Only 9.30pm, still an hour before I fetch Siobhan from a disco at school.
love
Cindy
xxx
Sunday, October 3, 2010
The Girl with a face like an over-ripe tomato
After spending the last three weekends consuming and devouring Stieg Larsson's Millenium series, I think the title of this post could easily be the title of his fourth book which is on his laptop, the only thing inherited by his partner of 30 years. How sad is that? Stieg Larsson ruined my social life three weekends in a row. He ruined my sleep as I read until 2am to finish the last book in the series. My updating of my blog was confined to book reviews of his books I read. I was invited to a birthday party that had a pig cooking on a spit, and I kept saying, "One more page, one more page," and when next I looked at the time it was 2am! Yeah, you may say it, I am pathetic and obsessive, whatever! Okay I admit it, wherever you are, Stieg Larsson I am your number one fan. But, back to The Girl with a face like an over-ripe tomato. That happens to be me. Yesterday I travelled to Arusha to chaperone our school's athletics team at a meet. Thinking I'd be sitting under the trees watching kids and chatting to parents, I neglected to take along sun cream. Unfortunately, they were short staffed and a little chaotic, and myself and one of the parents got roped into timekeeping in the full sun with NO sunscreen. The stopwatches were dinky brightly coloured toys made in China and probably bought from Toys R Us. Needless to say, they didn't work properly, but that's a whole other story. After 4 hours in direct African sun, remembering we are sort of on the equator here, my face had turned an enviable shade of bright red. You could have chopped off my head and used it as a stop sign. Someone said, "Oh I was going around passing out sunblock but thought you didn't need it because you were African." Listen lady, Africans also burn, especially white Africans. So I went home with my face stinging and my nose feeling like the skin was going to split any minute.
This morning I woke up and my face was swollen and puffy. I have been sunburnt many times before, but I've never woken up with a swollen puffy face. Under my eyes were saggy bags that looked as if I could keep my loose change in them. I was aesthetically, a disaster. On top of that, I could hardly see out of my eyes. The worst part, is that I have finished the free samples of moisturising lotion I collected from hotels we stayed at on our recent Mountain to Mountain Safari. I have a nasty feeling I am going to peel and when my new skin comes out I'm going to look like a wrinkled old prune. The worst is, is that the redness of my face really brings out the greyness of my hair.
I've finished the first draft of The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari, and am now working on writing the random factoids that'll appear throughout the book and getting the formatting right. The maps are still giving me grey hairs. I wish |I knew a cartographer who could just draw them for me. It's all about time, and that is something which I don't have enough of. Somebody dropped off 10 kg of pork, thinking I'd turn it into sausages. I have no time to make sausages, I really want to get this book finished, so have decided to smoke it. I can only hope it turns out okay. Talking about baking and cooking, because of the vast amounts of spinach in my garden, I've spent each weekend, after I'd finished with Stieg Larsson, trying out new recipes with spinach. I made canelloni, spinach quiche and last weekend, spinach and cheese pastries. Today I'm going to make spinach and feta samoosas and spinach and cheese muffins. Just call me the 'domesticated expat writer teacher.' I just need a little apron now to really look the part. Mind you, this red face will detract from my culinary skills.
Hopefully, this last week of school before the holiday won't be as hectic as the two preceding ones. And, I have no more Stieg larsson to distract me from my writing tasks and social life.
Have a great week!
love
Cindy
This morning I woke up and my face was swollen and puffy. I have been sunburnt many times before, but I've never woken up with a swollen puffy face. Under my eyes were saggy bags that looked as if I could keep my loose change in them. I was aesthetically, a disaster. On top of that, I could hardly see out of my eyes. The worst part, is that I have finished the free samples of moisturising lotion I collected from hotels we stayed at on our recent Mountain to Mountain Safari. I have a nasty feeling I am going to peel and when my new skin comes out I'm going to look like a wrinkled old prune. The worst is, is that the redness of my face really brings out the greyness of my hair.
I've finished the first draft of The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari, and am now working on writing the random factoids that'll appear throughout the book and getting the formatting right. The maps are still giving me grey hairs. I wish |I knew a cartographer who could just draw them for me. It's all about time, and that is something which I don't have enough of. Somebody dropped off 10 kg of pork, thinking I'd turn it into sausages. I have no time to make sausages, I really want to get this book finished, so have decided to smoke it. I can only hope it turns out okay. Talking about baking and cooking, because of the vast amounts of spinach in my garden, I've spent each weekend, after I'd finished with Stieg Larsson, trying out new recipes with spinach. I made canelloni, spinach quiche and last weekend, spinach and cheese pastries. Today I'm going to make spinach and feta samoosas and spinach and cheese muffins. Just call me the 'domesticated expat writer teacher.' I just need a little apron now to really look the part. Mind you, this red face will detract from my culinary skills.
Hopefully, this last week of school before the holiday won't be as hectic as the two preceding ones. And, I have no more Stieg larsson to distract me from my writing tasks and social life.
Have a great week!
love
Cindy
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Psychadelic Pink Fake Fur
This is a true story.
Last Friday when I came home from school, I gasped with shock the minute I stepped over the threshold into my sitting room. At the far end was my bookshelf. The lovely blue and gold Thai silk runner had been replaced with a psychadelic pink fake fur piece of fabric. A piece of fabric that was kept in a box upstairs with other pieces of fake fur - a leftover from my teddy bear making days. My housekeeper had obviously decided to give the Thai silk runner a wash, and had turned her nose up at the other really nice tasteful runners I have, and opted for the psychadelic pink fake fur. Now, while I appreciate the bright and colourful, the psychadelic pink fur was well...nauseating. I almost felt like I needed to wear sunglasses in the house. To make matters worse, she arranged my wooden map of Africa at a tilt on its side and she fetched the toy purple poodle from my daughter's bedroom and placed it as an ornament on the psychadelic fur. It was all a little much, but she obviously thought it was attractive. I collapsed in the chair and stared mesmerised at the bookshelf. Could I be bothered to change it?
The next morning I found myself sitting in the chair again, contemplating my pink fur runner. Siobhan came tripping down the stairs, her eyes full of sleep. "You still looking at that pink thing? If you don't like it, why don't you change it?" And she flopped down on the couch next to her jeans she'd climbed out of the night before, the pile of dvds scattered everywhere, and her smelly dirty socks.
"You know," I muttered sadly, "I pray to God nobody comes to visit us. I have a psychadelic pink fake fur runner, a shocking pink knee rug Grace has covered the coffee table with; and my lovely bedspread from India has been put on the dining room table as a table cloth! Then to make matters worse, look at your crap lying all over the floor." I shook my head, giving up. There was no point in arguing with her. The day before she'd told me it was my fault she was untidy because I employed a housekeeper. Teenagers.
"Get real Mom, who comes to visit?" she sneered nastily. "If you don't like it, stop whining and change it. Do something about it." She sashayed out the sitting room and went back upstairs to get ready to go out.
Of course, I had just returned home after dropping her off at a party when I had an unexpected guest. Luckily, earlier when Siobhan was in the shower I'd taken her dirty plates to the kitchen and picked up the dvds and thrown away her dirty tissues. But, I'd left the dirty smelly socks where she'd left them under the couch, and hadn't yet gotten around to changing the psychadelic fur. My lack of motivation to get up the energy to change my decor resulted in me having to apologise profusely for the state of my sitting room. It was embarrassing.
Today, one week later, I get home from school and the psychadelic pink fake fur fabric is still on my bookshelf as a runner. A week has gone by and I still haven't changed it. What signals am I sending out? My housekeeper obviously assumes I'm happy with her interior decorating skill; my daughter thinks that I don't mind living in a bomb shelter. This got me thinking. When we are unhappy with a situation, what messages do we give other people when we make no effort to change it because we can't be bothered.
Inside, I am very bothered, it's driving me mad, but change takes energy, it takes effort. Many times in life, we just complain and whinge about situations we don't like. We have the power to change it, but we can't be bothered. It's too much effort. So, we learn to live with it or around it. We accept things we shouldn't accept. We lower our standards. And as we get more and more used to a bad situation, the less likely we'll make the effort to change it. Mahatma Gandhi said, "Be the change you want to see in the world." Nobody but you can change the situation which is bothering you. You have to get up, find the energy and make that change. Throw away the psychadelic pink fur runner. Hide it where the housekeeper can never find it again. Make that change, don't turn a blind eye and just put up with it. Do something about it.
Besides thinking about how we go about changing unpleasant things, which I can blame entirely on my housekeeper and the psychadelic pink fake fur, I've also been thinking a bit about why we say sorry and how many times we really mean it. So I wrote a hub about it which you can check out here http://hubpages.com/hub/Why-do-we-say-sorry.
Long weekend here this weekend, and my goal is to write, write, write. I want to try and finish my up trip part of The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari. Have a great weekend and remember, make those changes in your life which are making you unhappy. Everyone deserves to be happy.
love
Cindy
Last Friday when I came home from school, I gasped with shock the minute I stepped over the threshold into my sitting room. At the far end was my bookshelf. The lovely blue and gold Thai silk runner had been replaced with a psychadelic pink fake fur piece of fabric. A piece of fabric that was kept in a box upstairs with other pieces of fake fur - a leftover from my teddy bear making days. My housekeeper had obviously decided to give the Thai silk runner a wash, and had turned her nose up at the other really nice tasteful runners I have, and opted for the psychadelic pink fake fur. Now, while I appreciate the bright and colourful, the psychadelic pink fur was well...nauseating. I almost felt like I needed to wear sunglasses in the house. To make matters worse, she arranged my wooden map of Africa at a tilt on its side and she fetched the toy purple poodle from my daughter's bedroom and placed it as an ornament on the psychadelic fur. It was all a little much, but she obviously thought it was attractive. I collapsed in the chair and stared mesmerised at the bookshelf. Could I be bothered to change it?
The next morning I found myself sitting in the chair again, contemplating my pink fur runner. Siobhan came tripping down the stairs, her eyes full of sleep. "You still looking at that pink thing? If you don't like it, why don't you change it?" And she flopped down on the couch next to her jeans she'd climbed out of the night before, the pile of dvds scattered everywhere, and her smelly dirty socks.
"You know," I muttered sadly, "I pray to God nobody comes to visit us. I have a psychadelic pink fake fur runner, a shocking pink knee rug Grace has covered the coffee table with; and my lovely bedspread from India has been put on the dining room table as a table cloth! Then to make matters worse, look at your crap lying all over the floor." I shook my head, giving up. There was no point in arguing with her. The day before she'd told me it was my fault she was untidy because I employed a housekeeper. Teenagers.
"Get real Mom, who comes to visit?" she sneered nastily. "If you don't like it, stop whining and change it. Do something about it." She sashayed out the sitting room and went back upstairs to get ready to go out.
Of course, I had just returned home after dropping her off at a party when I had an unexpected guest. Luckily, earlier when Siobhan was in the shower I'd taken her dirty plates to the kitchen and picked up the dvds and thrown away her dirty tissues. But, I'd left the dirty smelly socks where she'd left them under the couch, and hadn't yet gotten around to changing the psychadelic fur. My lack of motivation to get up the energy to change my decor resulted in me having to apologise profusely for the state of my sitting room. It was embarrassing.
Today, one week later, I get home from school and the psychadelic pink fake fur fabric is still on my bookshelf as a runner. A week has gone by and I still haven't changed it. What signals am I sending out? My housekeeper obviously assumes I'm happy with her interior decorating skill; my daughter thinks that I don't mind living in a bomb shelter. This got me thinking. When we are unhappy with a situation, what messages do we give other people when we make no effort to change it because we can't be bothered.
Inside, I am very bothered, it's driving me mad, but change takes energy, it takes effort. Many times in life, we just complain and whinge about situations we don't like. We have the power to change it, but we can't be bothered. It's too much effort. So, we learn to live with it or around it. We accept things we shouldn't accept. We lower our standards. And as we get more and more used to a bad situation, the less likely we'll make the effort to change it. Mahatma Gandhi said, "Be the change you want to see in the world." Nobody but you can change the situation which is bothering you. You have to get up, find the energy and make that change. Throw away the psychadelic pink fur runner. Hide it where the housekeeper can never find it again. Make that change, don't turn a blind eye and just put up with it. Do something about it.
Besides thinking about how we go about changing unpleasant things, which I can blame entirely on my housekeeper and the psychadelic pink fake fur, I've also been thinking a bit about why we say sorry and how many times we really mean it. So I wrote a hub about it which you can check out here http://hubpages.com/hub/Why-do-we-say-sorry.
Long weekend here this weekend, and my goal is to write, write, write. I want to try and finish my up trip part of The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari. Have a great weekend and remember, make those changes in your life which are making you unhappy. Everyone deserves to be happy.
love
Cindy
Monday, August 30, 2010
Never eat chocolate with a hole in your tooth
The days already seem to be flying past faster and faster. I guess when you are busy, the minutes go by so quickly they almost pick up a speed wobble. When I was in Cape Town recently, I was eating a chocolate bar, one of those nice ones with toffee and biscuit in the centre, and my filling came out. I thought I'd get it seen to when I returned to Tanzania, dentists being much cheaper here. Every week I say to myself, this week I'll make an appointment with the dentist, but that never seems to happen. The time just flies, the week is over, and I still haven't made a dentist appointment. Yesterday, while eating some chocolate I suffered from serious toothache. The moral is, don't eat chocolate until you've made the time to fix the hole in your tooth. But life is a bit like that. We make time for hanging out with friends, watching our team win a rugby match, but we don't make the time for essential things like dentist appointments. Learning to prioritise is a skill, and I can't wait until I learn it. However, as I'm getting old now I'm beginning to realise that it might be one skill I might never learn. Time is running out.
This weekend though, I did make the time to write two new hubs and make a video of Part One of The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari - the down trip. The hubs are completely different from each other - one is about a Thyroidectomy and Weight Gain and the other is Part One of my Mountain to Mountain Safari, with excerpts from the book I'm currently working on. So, I guess I should feel as if I accomplished something, worked on Sunday, went to TWO BBQ's on Saturday, but still no dentist. I seriously must make the time to make that appointment. It's that or no more chocolate.
Have a great week ahead!
Love
Cindy
http://hubpages.com/hub/Driving-from-Kilimanjaro-to-Table-Mountain
http://hubpages.com/hub/Thyroidectomy-and-Weight-Gain
xxx
This weekend though, I did make the time to write two new hubs and make a video of Part One of The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari - the down trip. The hubs are completely different from each other - one is about a Thyroidectomy and Weight Gain and the other is Part One of my Mountain to Mountain Safari, with excerpts from the book I'm currently working on. So, I guess I should feel as if I accomplished something, worked on Sunday, went to TWO BBQ's on Saturday, but still no dentist. I seriously must make the time to make that appointment. It's that or no more chocolate.
Have a great week ahead!
Love
Cindy
http://hubpages.com/hub/Driving-from-Kilimanjaro-to-Table-Mountain
http://hubpages.com/hub/Thyroidectomy-and-Weight-Gain
xxx
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Time flies when you're having fun!
It’s hard to believe that it was only just over a fortnight ago that we were still travelling back from Cape Town! The past two weeks have flown by, with there hardly being time to catch a breath. It seems like nothing can top our arrest in Zimbabwe, but there always has to be one kind of drama or other, or just some small thing to liven up a day.
In Malawi my ATM card packed up, leaving us stranded without money, but luckily with help from some kind folks we made our way back home. We stayed at a sugar plantation in Dwangwa in Malawi and then drove to Nkatha Bay where we'd initially wanted to stay. What an amazing place right on Lake Malawi! Absolutely magical and I think we'll return to holiday on the lake during the Easter holidays. We had a rest day in Mbeya holed up in a hotel while we waited for the school to send money with the cellphone. Amazing how they do that. You get a text message saying go to Vodacom to collect your cash. It's a big problem when the magnetic strip on your ATM card gives up the ghost. The money from the school should have been enough to get home, but by the time I had travelled 20km from Mbeya, I had already picked up 2 spot speeding fines, so we crawled the rest of the way knowing we couldn't afford to pay out more money to corrupt policemen. But still, we were about 200km from Moshi when the car hit empty. Amazingly enough, we managed to drive 100km with my fuel light on. I had to leave my camera as security at Same, 100km from Moshi so that I could get enough petrol to get home, but that just makes life a lot fuller, and our adventures more interesting.
Once again we travelled through Mikumi National Park, and this time had to stop while a lion crossed the road. Of course I couldn't get the camera aimed in time and with Siobhan swearing in my ear as the lion was on my side of the road, tracked it through the grass while snapping away merrily. Some other travellers stopped and started shouting at the lion so that it would look at them while they hang out of the window with their camera phone. Crazy people!
One has to look on these little adventures as good material for my book. Driving the 100km to Same a couple of days later to pay our debt and retrieve my camera was a bit of a pain as just between you and me, I was a little tired of driving! The whole trip from Kilimanjaro to Table Mountain and back again was a whopping 11980km! But I have to say, I have caught the bug and I want to do more driving trips in the future! I quite fancy driving to Lake Victoria and the southern coast of Tanzania. There are some interesting ruins on the Mafia islands I’d like to see.
I didn’t have much time to reflect on the trip before I was back into the swing of things at school, meeting the new teachers, helping with their orientation and getting everything sorted for the first week of school. So far I am absolutely loving my new role in management, even though one of the kids asked me, “Miss Cindy, have you dyed your hair grey?” I ask you, would anybody intentionally do that? I decided over the holiday to stop fighting the grey hairs that sporadically appear, as when you colour your hair they quickly reappear at the temples making me look like a poor imitation of a Siberian hamster. But now, my daughter has instructed me to colour my hair as the salt and pepper grey look ‘doesn’t suit’ me. Of course, easier said than done as my dark blonde dye is not so easily available in Moshi! I could go red I guess. Our English teacher let his daughters colour his grey hair red and it came out shocking pink! Poor blighter even let them colour his beard. Luckily for him, it was virtually all washed out in time for the start of school on Monday.
Sometimes, you meet interesting people who you immediately know you are going to use as characters in a book. I met one like that, a lawyer whom I had to see to stamp his commissioner of oaths stamp on a document I have to send off. A small man, probably pushing eighty, with a full head of snow white hair, and a booming voice that seemed to come from a far more imposing figure than him. I was solemnly ushered into his office, a dead leopard’s head mounted on the wall behind the chair I was shown to, and was amazed to see him reclining back in a large black leather swivel chair that seemed to swallow his tiny frame up. What was more amazing to me, was that his waistband button and zipper was undone and he didn’t seem concerned about that at all. He looked up at me and smiled, and kept his sunglasses on even though he was inside his office. All very bizarre. He wouldn’t look at the form he had to certify until he’d heard about where I’d come from and my trip down to Cape Town. Then his phone rang, he politely asked my forgiveness while he took the call, and I listened to his booming voice alternating between Swahili and a delightful very upper class English accent when he repeated interesting parts of the conversation in English, obviously for my benefit. So I heard about corrupt politicians who were little more than thieves who were trying to set up a casino with prostitutes flown in, in the central part of Tanzania in a game park somewhere. The way his lips moved as he enunciated his words was quite fascinating, like a cartoon character. In fact, he was like a real life cartoon. I eventually managed to escape from his office with the form duly stamped, about an hour and a half later.
We arrived back home from our trip to find that termites had taken over in Siobhan’s room. Although they were living in the room, they were starting to eat through her ceiling and holes were beginning to form. In fact, if you banged on her wall you could hear them scuttling, and if you stood still you could hear the steady sound of them chomping. It seemed like it would be only a few days before her ceiling collapsed on her. Of course, being terrified of anything with more than four legs, Siobhan moved herself and all her possessions into my bedroom. So began my nights of interrupted sleep, as I desperately clung to the edge of the bed while she spread out like a starfish, and grabbed all my blankets, leaving me shivering in the cold. It’s been quite cold at night since we got back, and on overcast days it’s been decidedly chilly. We’re glad we brought our winter stuff back with us. Anyway, they fumigated her room and roof, removed part of the ceiling, and as is here took ten days to get round to putting in new ceiling panels. They still haven’t painted, so madam is still in my bedroom.
As happens here, simple jobs become more complicated. We were unable to shower, with only one continuous drip coming from the left side of the shower head. Strangely enough I never connected the lack of water in the shower to termites in the ceiling. One puts in the maintenance request and then you have to wait until they find the time. By that time, Siobhan has washed her hair in cold water in the basin and my hair looks like I’ve been working part-time in a grease factory. Five days later and they discovered that when they fumigated, they accidentally disconnected the water pipe in the roof that goes to the shower. At least now we can shower.
I’m setting aside weekends to work on The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari. It is just way too hectic during the week. Hopefully, the initial huge workload will lessen in time, but I have my doubts. The trick is going to be managing to juggle time, so that I can still keep up with my writing. At the moment I get home between 6.30pm and 7.15pm, eat dinner, watch CSI and then am ready for bed at 8.30pm-9pm. Just been feeling so shattered at night. But last night I managed to stay awake until 9.30pm, so I think I’ll start to build up stamina again.
Otherwise, it’s good to be back. I love life here and have good friends. But the way time is flying, before I know it it’ll be time to fly to Cape Town for the Christmas holidays. Yes, we’re flying not driving this time!
Have an awesome week ahead!
Luv
Cindy
In Malawi my ATM card packed up, leaving us stranded without money, but luckily with help from some kind folks we made our way back home. We stayed at a sugar plantation in Dwangwa in Malawi and then drove to Nkatha Bay where we'd initially wanted to stay. What an amazing place right on Lake Malawi! Absolutely magical and I think we'll return to holiday on the lake during the Easter holidays. We had a rest day in Mbeya holed up in a hotel while we waited for the school to send money with the cellphone. Amazing how they do that. You get a text message saying go to Vodacom to collect your cash. It's a big problem when the magnetic strip on your ATM card gives up the ghost. The money from the school should have been enough to get home, but by the time I had travelled 20km from Mbeya, I had already picked up 2 spot speeding fines, so we crawled the rest of the way knowing we couldn't afford to pay out more money to corrupt policemen. But still, we were about 200km from Moshi when the car hit empty. Amazingly enough, we managed to drive 100km with my fuel light on. I had to leave my camera as security at Same, 100km from Moshi so that I could get enough petrol to get home, but that just makes life a lot fuller, and our adventures more interesting.
Once again we travelled through Mikumi National Park, and this time had to stop while a lion crossed the road. Of course I couldn't get the camera aimed in time and with Siobhan swearing in my ear as the lion was on my side of the road, tracked it through the grass while snapping away merrily. Some other travellers stopped and started shouting at the lion so that it would look at them while they hang out of the window with their camera phone. Crazy people!
One has to look on these little adventures as good material for my book. Driving the 100km to Same a couple of days later to pay our debt and retrieve my camera was a bit of a pain as just between you and me, I was a little tired of driving! The whole trip from Kilimanjaro to Table Mountain and back again was a whopping 11980km! But I have to say, I have caught the bug and I want to do more driving trips in the future! I quite fancy driving to Lake Victoria and the southern coast of Tanzania. There are some interesting ruins on the Mafia islands I’d like to see.
I didn’t have much time to reflect on the trip before I was back into the swing of things at school, meeting the new teachers, helping with their orientation and getting everything sorted for the first week of school. So far I am absolutely loving my new role in management, even though one of the kids asked me, “Miss Cindy, have you dyed your hair grey?” I ask you, would anybody intentionally do that? I decided over the holiday to stop fighting the grey hairs that sporadically appear, as when you colour your hair they quickly reappear at the temples making me look like a poor imitation of a Siberian hamster. But now, my daughter has instructed me to colour my hair as the salt and pepper grey look ‘doesn’t suit’ me. Of course, easier said than done as my dark blonde dye is not so easily available in Moshi! I could go red I guess. Our English teacher let his daughters colour his grey hair red and it came out shocking pink! Poor blighter even let them colour his beard. Luckily for him, it was virtually all washed out in time for the start of school on Monday.
Sometimes, you meet interesting people who you immediately know you are going to use as characters in a book. I met one like that, a lawyer whom I had to see to stamp his commissioner of oaths stamp on a document I have to send off. A small man, probably pushing eighty, with a full head of snow white hair, and a booming voice that seemed to come from a far more imposing figure than him. I was solemnly ushered into his office, a dead leopard’s head mounted on the wall behind the chair I was shown to, and was amazed to see him reclining back in a large black leather swivel chair that seemed to swallow his tiny frame up. What was more amazing to me, was that his waistband button and zipper was undone and he didn’t seem concerned about that at all. He looked up at me and smiled, and kept his sunglasses on even though he was inside his office. All very bizarre. He wouldn’t look at the form he had to certify until he’d heard about where I’d come from and my trip down to Cape Town. Then his phone rang, he politely asked my forgiveness while he took the call, and I listened to his booming voice alternating between Swahili and a delightful very upper class English accent when he repeated interesting parts of the conversation in English, obviously for my benefit. So I heard about corrupt politicians who were little more than thieves who were trying to set up a casino with prostitutes flown in, in the central part of Tanzania in a game park somewhere. The way his lips moved as he enunciated his words was quite fascinating, like a cartoon character. In fact, he was like a real life cartoon. I eventually managed to escape from his office with the form duly stamped, about an hour and a half later.
We arrived back home from our trip to find that termites had taken over in Siobhan’s room. Although they were living in the room, they were starting to eat through her ceiling and holes were beginning to form. In fact, if you banged on her wall you could hear them scuttling, and if you stood still you could hear the steady sound of them chomping. It seemed like it would be only a few days before her ceiling collapsed on her. Of course, being terrified of anything with more than four legs, Siobhan moved herself and all her possessions into my bedroom. So began my nights of interrupted sleep, as I desperately clung to the edge of the bed while she spread out like a starfish, and grabbed all my blankets, leaving me shivering in the cold. It’s been quite cold at night since we got back, and on overcast days it’s been decidedly chilly. We’re glad we brought our winter stuff back with us. Anyway, they fumigated her room and roof, removed part of the ceiling, and as is here took ten days to get round to putting in new ceiling panels. They still haven’t painted, so madam is still in my bedroom.
As happens here, simple jobs become more complicated. We were unable to shower, with only one continuous drip coming from the left side of the shower head. Strangely enough I never connected the lack of water in the shower to termites in the ceiling. One puts in the maintenance request and then you have to wait until they find the time. By that time, Siobhan has washed her hair in cold water in the basin and my hair looks like I’ve been working part-time in a grease factory. Five days later and they discovered that when they fumigated, they accidentally disconnected the water pipe in the roof that goes to the shower. At least now we can shower.
I’m setting aside weekends to work on The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari. It is just way too hectic during the week. Hopefully, the initial huge workload will lessen in time, but I have my doubts. The trick is going to be managing to juggle time, so that I can still keep up with my writing. At the moment I get home between 6.30pm and 7.15pm, eat dinner, watch CSI and then am ready for bed at 8.30pm-9pm. Just been feeling so shattered at night. But last night I managed to stay awake until 9.30pm, so I think I’ll start to build up stamina again.
Otherwise, it’s good to be back. I love life here and have good friends. But the way time is flying, before I know it it’ll be time to fly to Cape Town for the Christmas holidays. Yes, we’re flying not driving this time!
Have an awesome week ahead!
Luv
Cindy
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Heading back to Kilimanjaro
All good things come to an end. Our holiday in magical Cape Town is over. In the morning at 6am, we start our long drive back to Kilimanjaro. The car is packed, just recharging the camera batteries, putting our clothes for the trip into day packets and then we need to seriously sleep. Correction, I need to sleep. Siobhan will sleep along the way. I've made sure that there is enough space for her chair to go back. Our car resembles a packed Zimbabwean bus minus the chickens and goats tied onto the roof. Behind the front seats there is a solid wall of clothing, linen, toys, kitchen utensils, and other crap we think we desperately need back home in Tanzania. The challenge that lies ahead, is going to be getting across the borders of 4 different countries without paying duty or bribes to corrupt customs officials.
This is the first time we haven't done too many touristy things in my beloved mother city. Sorted out Tony's flat, saw him settled (his first night there he returned home from a club to find two dead bodies, a shot up car and a horde of policemen in the road near his block of flats.) That took up a good part of the holiday. Then we also raided our storage facility and decided on what to keep in storage and what we wanted to take back with us. Have to say, we are taking back enough clothes to clothe the whole of Moshi. Siobhan always loves fashion and has been very frustrated having to wear the same clothes twice a week for the past year. The big thing, is that we are taking back summer clothes which we had a sad lack of the past year.
Had my first sem-run-in with customs today. Had ordered some of my latest book to give family and friends here, thinking it would be cheaper to ship to South Africa from the US than it is to Tanzania. Boy was I mistaken. Not only is shipping more expensive, but the customs here grab hold of the box of books, and won't release them until you pay duty, vat and a clearance fee. I managed to b-s my way out of the duty when I saw they had opened the box up upside down. I knew that the invoice was always on the top of the books, but seeing that they had opened up the box from the bottom, I told them the books were a gift from my publishers. "See," I said holding the back of a book up next to my face. "This is me, I am the author." After scrutinising my face and the author picture on my book, they agreed that I was indeed the author, so didn't have to pay duty. But I still had to pay vat on the value of the books. I made up a ridiculously small sum which they accepted, and paid their $3 handling fee on top of that. Total outlay $10 to collect my books, even though I had to fork out a lot for the shipping. Never ever will I ship books to South Africa again.
When I got back to my car, which was already packed to the brim ready for tomorrow's trip, it was surrounded by custom's officials, some with cute golden labradors. "This is not a South African registered car," one very astutely pointed out. "Is it from Zambia?" he asked pointing to the Tanzanian flag on the number plate. Granted, he might have been fooled by the 'I love Zambia' sticker on the back of my car, but Zambia? Obviously the education system had failed him and I knew then he was not one to be trifled with.
"Tanzania," I said pleasantly with one of my winning smiles. "As you can see, I came to fetch some of my things to take back to Tanzania with me."
"Passport," he sneered holding out his hand. Now seriously, how many South Africans drive around South Africa with their passport. In fact, many South Africans don't even have passports.
"I don't have it with me, it's with my things at my brother's house in Rondebosch." I quickly replaced my winning smile with a perplexed look.
"Oh, are you South African?" he asked, lightening up a little. My South African accent is so thick, you can cut it with a knife, this guy was very slow. I nodded, trying my best to look demure and intimidated at the same time. "Okay, you can go then. But you better keep your passport with you, as other cops might stop you and ask what with you driving a foreign car and all. So, what is it like in Tanzania? Is it peaceful? Are you working there?" First he was so aggressive and now he wanted to make chatty conversation. I bared my teeth in what I hoped was a pleasant grin. The labrador he had on a leash lay down and rested its head on its paws. It obviously found my car boring, probably because I wasn't a drug smuggler.
Goodbyes to friends, but we'll be back in December when the weather is better. The World Cup was awesome, I was one of the millions proud to be a South African. Hopefully, our rugby boys will improve the weekend. Not sure when I'll have internet access again to update you about our travels. But, I'm recording all the information and am really excited about The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari, the book I'm going to write about this mammoth trip. Have done quite a bit of work on it already.
Thanks to my brothers for looking out for me here, getting my car sorted and serviced and letting us stay with them in Cape Town. Thanks also to my Mom and Jem for helping to sort out Tony. Ten days minimum of travel lie ahead. Hopefully, not too many adventures, but they are always good to write about in a book!Sayonara!
luv
Cindy
This is the first time we haven't done too many touristy things in my beloved mother city. Sorted out Tony's flat, saw him settled (his first night there he returned home from a club to find two dead bodies, a shot up car and a horde of policemen in the road near his block of flats.) That took up a good part of the holiday. Then we also raided our storage facility and decided on what to keep in storage and what we wanted to take back with us. Have to say, we are taking back enough clothes to clothe the whole of Moshi. Siobhan always loves fashion and has been very frustrated having to wear the same clothes twice a week for the past year. The big thing, is that we are taking back summer clothes which we had a sad lack of the past year.
Had my first sem-run-in with customs today. Had ordered some of my latest book to give family and friends here, thinking it would be cheaper to ship to South Africa from the US than it is to Tanzania. Boy was I mistaken. Not only is shipping more expensive, but the customs here grab hold of the box of books, and won't release them until you pay duty, vat and a clearance fee. I managed to b-s my way out of the duty when I saw they had opened the box up upside down. I knew that the invoice was always on the top of the books, but seeing that they had opened up the box from the bottom, I told them the books were a gift from my publishers. "See," I said holding the back of a book up next to my face. "This is me, I am the author." After scrutinising my face and the author picture on my book, they agreed that I was indeed the author, so didn't have to pay duty. But I still had to pay vat on the value of the books. I made up a ridiculously small sum which they accepted, and paid their $3 handling fee on top of that. Total outlay $10 to collect my books, even though I had to fork out a lot for the shipping. Never ever will I ship books to South Africa again.
When I got back to my car, which was already packed to the brim ready for tomorrow's trip, it was surrounded by custom's officials, some with cute golden labradors. "This is not a South African registered car," one very astutely pointed out. "Is it from Zambia?" he asked pointing to the Tanzanian flag on the number plate. Granted, he might have been fooled by the 'I love Zambia' sticker on the back of my car, but Zambia? Obviously the education system had failed him and I knew then he was not one to be trifled with.
"Tanzania," I said pleasantly with one of my winning smiles. "As you can see, I came to fetch some of my things to take back to Tanzania with me."
"Passport," he sneered holding out his hand. Now seriously, how many South Africans drive around South Africa with their passport. In fact, many South Africans don't even have passports.
"I don't have it with me, it's with my things at my brother's house in Rondebosch." I quickly replaced my winning smile with a perplexed look.
"Oh, are you South African?" he asked, lightening up a little. My South African accent is so thick, you can cut it with a knife, this guy was very slow. I nodded, trying my best to look demure and intimidated at the same time. "Okay, you can go then. But you better keep your passport with you, as other cops might stop you and ask what with you driving a foreign car and all. So, what is it like in Tanzania? Is it peaceful? Are you working there?" First he was so aggressive and now he wanted to make chatty conversation. I bared my teeth in what I hoped was a pleasant grin. The labrador he had on a leash lay down and rested its head on its paws. It obviously found my car boring, probably because I wasn't a drug smuggler.
Goodbyes to friends, but we'll be back in December when the weather is better. The World Cup was awesome, I was one of the millions proud to be a South African. Hopefully, our rugby boys will improve the weekend. Not sure when I'll have internet access again to update you about our travels. But, I'm recording all the information and am really excited about The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari, the book I'm going to write about this mammoth trip. Have done quite a bit of work on it already.
Thanks to my brothers for looking out for me here, getting my car sorted and serviced and letting us stay with them in Cape Town. Thanks also to my Mom and Jem for helping to sort out Tony. Ten days minimum of travel lie ahead. Hopefully, not too many adventures, but they are always good to write about in a book!Sayonara!
luv
Cindy
Saturday, June 26, 2010
The dangers of relaxing
Relaxing can be a hazard to your health. Too much relaxing, and it might be difficult to get back into that disciplined compartmentalised state I was in. However, relaxing is addictive. Unfortunately. I might get to like it too much. Cape Town is always a blast, so much to do, so much to see, and the shopping and vibe is always great. The money part is not so great, I spent way too much money on the way down, and now have to guard my pennies to be able to pay for the way back. Being broke in Cape Town is not a joke. I'm seriously considering going to the Grand Casino and playing the pokey machines there to win myself more money. But with my luck, I might just make the casino richer, so that is probably not an option. I guess I have to look with my eyes and not my wallet. Sigh....Very hard when you have two kids who want you to buy them everything they like. Maybe, I should try and continue my disciplined approach to my writing, but shift it to my shopping/money spending facet of my life.It's been great catching up with family and friends and doing the little things that you can't do in Tanzania, like handing in Siobhan's macbook for repairs (remember, the one I accidentally spilt diet coke over) and getting the lock on the boot repaired. Initially, I had phoned around the scrap yards to try and get a pajero boot lock mechanism out of a crashed car. Sadly, nobody seems to crash Pajeros here. In fact, we've only seen one other Pajero since we've been here, so maybe nobody drives Pajeros here. I was advised to go to the Motsubishi Dealer and buy a new one. With dollar signs blinding my vision (imagine what a fortune they would charge) I pulled into Roadrunner 24 hour locksmiths, and two hours later my boot lock was repaired for under $100! The kids were a bit antsy that their lunch was delayed two hours, but the other bonus was that because they then only had lunch at 3pm, I didn't have to buy them dinner!
Cris, whom I know from Hubpages, took my initial cover design for my The Great Mountain to Mountain Safari book, and reworked it with his special magical touch. I think it's come out really well. I've started on the book, typing up the introduction etc, but need to sit down and start typing up the stuff from my notes while it is all fresh in my mind. The problem is, the world cup football is rather distracting. I can't help myself, I just feel compelled to watch the games and blow the vuvuzela! Actually, the atmosphere here in Cape Town is quite electric, and I'm so pleased I've had the opportunity to be in the city during a world cup. South Africa is doing a wonderful job hosting this world cup and making all those negative people who forecast it would be a disaster, eat their words. I reckon, this is the most colourful, vibrant world cup ever!
Well, one more cup of coffee and then I'd better raise those sleeping kids of mine. It is 9.35am already and half the morning has gone!
Monday, June 21, 2010
My beautiful mountain
We arrived in Cape Town, not at all tired, but ecstatically happy to finally be here after a 9 day drive. There is something about that mountain, Table Mountain, that grabs you and draws you in. The minute I set eyes on it as I came out of the Du Toitskloof Pass Tunnel, I could feel tears in my eyes. I was home.
Our drive down was fantastic. We took our time, averaging between 500-600km a day, never arriving at a destination later than 7pm, so avoided night time driving. Siobhan hogged the big camera and took some amazing shots. When she got bored, she took artistic shots of the inside of her mouth, eyeball etc. I think this trip was good for our relationship. She does drive me mad as teenagers do, and I probably ignore her more than I should. On this trip, as she was sitting next to me all the way, it was hard to ignore her and I discovered that she does actually have a sense of humour and is quite entertaining.
My anticipated problems entering the South African border with a foreign registered car dissipated like a silent fart, leaving one wondering why all that energy was wasted getting all anxious about it. Everywhere on the internet said I needed this highly expensive carnet de passage only obtainable from the AA in South Africa. Other people who'd driven to South Africa said I needed it. Getting it while living in Moshi, Tanzania proved a mission I had no time for, so I decided to chance my luck and bullshit my way across the border. My bullshit wasn't needed. The customs guy at the Pioneer Gate border post leaned back in his chair, stroked his beard, scratched his bum, and stamped my gate pass without looking at it. So, I guess he never noticed that I had a foreign registed vehicle. Of course now, as my vehicle has not been tempraily imported into South Africa, it might prove to be a hassle getting it out again. But I'll cross that bridge in a month's time when I go through the whole thing again.
On our way back, I've decided to go back through Zimbabwe and Malawi and avoid Mozambique. The police were so nasty in Mozambique when we were there two years ago, and I want to see the Zimbabwe Ruins again and have never been to Malawi. Luckily, to visit those two countries, we have a Comesa which is recognised there, making it easy to drive our car across their borders and in their country.
I was going to type each days' traveling in this blog, Day 1, Day 2, etc, but we only had internet access on two of the days. However, I've kept copious notes of keywords of interesting adventures, how much fuel, distances and so on. Siobhan's taken heaps of photos along the way and kept a video diary. So, I figure a book is called for. I mean, how many single mothers with a 14 year old daughter drive 9 days alone from Kilimanjaro to Table Mountain? Also, we found the guide book we had on Zambia a little inaccurate, distances between towns weren't given, and then of course the issue of toilets along the way. Most guide books don't pay any attention to toilets, because guide books are written by men who just jump out of the car, stand with their back to the car, haul out their little member and point it at the nearest bush. Women don't have that luxury. We require a toilet, and I have made a note of our toilet adventures as well. On the way down, I designed the book cover in my head and know exactly what it's going to look like. I also came up with quite a few ideas for other books, I guess nine days in a car does that to you! I just don't know where I'll find the time to do all I want to do. I'll have to compartmentalize my life a little more to fit it all in.
Anyway, I'm going to call the book The Great MOUNTAIN to MOUNTAIN Safari. The title will be in cursive with MOUNTAIN in thick bold letters, with a drawing of Kilimanjaro and Table Mountain above the M's. I can't wait to do a mock up of it, and put it on my blog for feedback. I'm quite excited about this book. The first half will be the way down, second half will be the way up, and I think it'll be a great resource for other travelers wanting to do a similar trip. All the talk about being dangerous was a lot of crap, to put it mildly. We never once found ourselves to be in any danger, people all the way down in all the countries were extremely friendly and helpful. And if there was any danger, I did have the Tazer Mobile Phone! Seriously, more people should think about doing overland trips like this, as it's definitely a way to see Africa. Unfortunately, the camera's battery is dead, so I have to recharge it first before I can add some photos. So, hold your horses, some photos of our trip will be on here in a day or two.
Have a great week ahead! I need to find a friendly mechanic to service my car. Think she needs some love after this trip. Geez, some of those roads...
love
Cindy
Our drive down was fantastic. We took our time, averaging between 500-600km a day, never arriving at a destination later than 7pm, so avoided night time driving. Siobhan hogged the big camera and took some amazing shots. When she got bored, she took artistic shots of the inside of her mouth, eyeball etc. I think this trip was good for our relationship. She does drive me mad as teenagers do, and I probably ignore her more than I should. On this trip, as she was sitting next to me all the way, it was hard to ignore her and I discovered that she does actually have a sense of humour and is quite entertaining.
My anticipated problems entering the South African border with a foreign registered car dissipated like a silent fart, leaving one wondering why all that energy was wasted getting all anxious about it. Everywhere on the internet said I needed this highly expensive carnet de passage only obtainable from the AA in South Africa. Other people who'd driven to South Africa said I needed it. Getting it while living in Moshi, Tanzania proved a mission I had no time for, so I decided to chance my luck and bullshit my way across the border. My bullshit wasn't needed. The customs guy at the Pioneer Gate border post leaned back in his chair, stroked his beard, scratched his bum, and stamped my gate pass without looking at it. So, I guess he never noticed that I had a foreign registed vehicle. Of course now, as my vehicle has not been tempraily imported into South Africa, it might prove to be a hassle getting it out again. But I'll cross that bridge in a month's time when I go through the whole thing again.
On our way back, I've decided to go back through Zimbabwe and Malawi and avoid Mozambique. The police were so nasty in Mozambique when we were there two years ago, and I want to see the Zimbabwe Ruins again and have never been to Malawi. Luckily, to visit those two countries, we have a Comesa which is recognised there, making it easy to drive our car across their borders and in their country.
I was going to type each days' traveling in this blog, Day 1, Day 2, etc, but we only had internet access on two of the days. However, I've kept copious notes of keywords of interesting adventures, how much fuel, distances and so on. Siobhan's taken heaps of photos along the way and kept a video diary. So, I figure a book is called for. I mean, how many single mothers with a 14 year old daughter drive 9 days alone from Kilimanjaro to Table Mountain? Also, we found the guide book we had on Zambia a little inaccurate, distances between towns weren't given, and then of course the issue of toilets along the way. Most guide books don't pay any attention to toilets, because guide books are written by men who just jump out of the car, stand with their back to the car, haul out their little member and point it at the nearest bush. Women don't have that luxury. We require a toilet, and I have made a note of our toilet adventures as well. On the way down, I designed the book cover in my head and know exactly what it's going to look like. I also came up with quite a few ideas for other books, I guess nine days in a car does that to you! I just don't know where I'll find the time to do all I want to do. I'll have to compartmentalize my life a little more to fit it all in.
Anyway, I'm going to call the book The Great MOUNTAIN to MOUNTAIN Safari. The title will be in cursive with MOUNTAIN in thick bold letters, with a drawing of Kilimanjaro and Table Mountain above the M's. I can't wait to do a mock up of it, and put it on my blog for feedback. I'm quite excited about this book. The first half will be the way down, second half will be the way up, and I think it'll be a great resource for other travelers wanting to do a similar trip. All the talk about being dangerous was a lot of crap, to put it mildly. We never once found ourselves to be in any danger, people all the way down in all the countries were extremely friendly and helpful. And if there was any danger, I did have the Tazer Mobile Phone! Seriously, more people should think about doing overland trips like this, as it's definitely a way to see Africa. Unfortunately, the camera's battery is dead, so I have to recharge it first before I can add some photos. So, hold your horses, some photos of our trip will be on here in a day or two.
Have a great week ahead! I need to find a friendly mechanic to service my car. Think she needs some love after this trip. Geez, some of those roads...
love
Cindy
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