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 How is social media different from other online marketing activities?

Social media is different than other online marketing activities because the purpose of it is to engage an audience – not necessarily sell to them. That comes later when you create a community of people that know you, like you, trust from you and ultimately buy from you. The other way I use social media is to drive traffic to my landing pages, so that I fill my own funnel. You have to remember that a social media platform such as Facebook or Twitter, any followers you have, aren’t yours. If Twitter wanted to close your account today, they could. So if you became dependent just on those for leads or your marketing, it is a fragile structure. It’s like building your house out of straw. Having said that, I have also never seen a greater or faster way to specifically locate and target your audience, engage them, and pull them into your own funnel – which is why it can’t be ignored as a business practice.

Tracy Repchuk
Bestselling Author of 31 Days to Millionaire Marketing Miracles

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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

Omigod! Civilisation!

We'd heard quite a bit about Dar-Es-Salaam from people who'd been there before.  Dirty, busy, horrendous traffic.  Nobody, however, told us how civilised it is.  Especially on the Seacliff side.  Enormous mansions, beautifully tarred roads, great restaurants, shopping malls, we thought we'd accidentally left the country without realising it.  In comparison, Moshi is a one-horse town, and the horse died several years ago.  I do like Moshi though.  We don't have much traffic.  The traffic in Dar is a problem, but not nearly as bad as Mumbai.  I didn't find it dirty at all, and yeah it's the capital so it should be busy.  It was a great getaway but I'm not sure if I could live there, as there are far too many temptations to spend your money on.  I'd be flat-broke in five seconds. 

My book launch was great, A Novel Idea is one of the nicest bookshops I've been in, a great selection of books, I felt quite privileged to have my book launch there.  They're opening a branch in Arusha in June, so that is definitely something to look forward to.

The first two nights we stayed at the Jambo Inn in the city centre.  It's very budget and has a good restaurant downstairs.  Good for one night if you are catching the ferry to Zanzibar in the morning, but I wouldn't recommend it for longer than a night.  Our last night we stayed at the Q-bar and this I recommend highly.  Double the price of the Jambo Inn, but worth every penny.  A great English breakfast with proper filter coffee is included in the price.

Of course being me, there has to be some crazy madcap adventure to our weekend away.  We once again fell foul to corruption on the roads.  What is it with me and these traffic guys?  On the way to Dar we were only stopped twice, and both times the little traffic policeman looked in the car and asked if Siobhan was my daughter.  Although, the first one actually first asked if she was my son.  When I said yes, they waved me to continue driving.  Most bizarre.  Did they think I was kidnapping her or something?
But on the way back, a loose wire somewhere in the car was telling the car a door was open, which caused my hazard lights to flash on and off all the time.  I slammed all the doors closed so forcefully, that I almost sprained my wrist.  But, that damn loose wire was still sending out the wrong signals.  We left Dar confusing all the other drivers in the torrential rain, as they didn't know which way we were turning.  There's nothing like a car not doing what it's supposed to be doing, to put me in a bad mood, which poor Siobhan got the brunt of.  My girl, I'm sorry for snapping at you when you only wanted to give me a piece of melted chocolate while I was trying to negotiate the road in the pouring rain with my hazard lights flicking on and off like a disco.

As I gathered speed, the loose wire stopped making the hazard lights go on and off, and the trip became quite pleasant.  Even the rain stopped.  Unfortunately, as I overtook a staggering truck that was going so slowly it was almost going backwards, a little traffic man jumped out from next to a 30km speed limit sign.  Now you can't overtake a truck at 30km an hour, and you can't magically change from about 80km an hour to 30km an hour in the space of one metre.  He told me he thought I was speeding.  Obviously, I denied it, so he called over his little helper with the speed camera thing.  71km an hour.  "How do you know that's my car?" I asked, noting that their speed catching contraption does not record photos of the vehicle or licence plates.
"Look," the little helper man said, and took the speed of the next car.  21km an hour.  "See how slow he's going?"  Of course, he didn't realise by doing that, he was wiping out the speed of my car.
"Well," I said with a grim smile trying to feign patience, "He's only going slow because he can see you and me dancing around in the road.  In fact, he's going so slow he's a hazard to the safety of the rest of us on the road.  He should be the one you stop and fine."
The main traffic guy didn't fall for my advanced female logic.  "So do you want to go to court, or can I write you a ticket for TSH 20 000?"  That's roughly $20.
"But what speed was I going again?  Show me?"  I knew that I had them foxed as they had replaced my speed reading with the reading from the next car.
The traffic guy laughed.  "If you go to court you'll win as we don't have your speed anymore, but think of how much time and expense fighting it in court will take?"
He had me.  His English was far too good.  "Well then, I fine you TSH 20 000 for having such a bad road with potholes, it's a danger to drivers," I countered.
He agreed with me, and by then all the traffic police were laughing and pointing to the potholes in the road.  I thought I'd won the battle, but then he produced the ticket book again.  "So, court or fine?"
Bastard.  "How about, I just give you TSH 10 000 and we forget about court and fine?"
"Sure," the greedy corrupt bastard said as he held out his hand to take my money.
Civilisation comes with a price, I reckon.  It opens the doors for corruption.

Cars and condoms

I have decided that the veritable Murphy should be hanged, drawn and quartered, and his body parts put in a black plastic bag and dumped in the sea next to Dexter's victims.  Murphy and his stupid laws drive me crazy.  They always happen when you don't want them to.  Take this week for example.  My car has been going swimmingly well.  But frigging Murphy knows full well that I'm traveling to Dar for my book launch this weekend, so what does he do, he creates havoc.
My electric window which I'd just had repaired at a cost of $70 three weeks before, refused to wind back up.  I pressed the button and the little motor inside the door hummed and buzzed like a constipated bee.  Luckily, the fundi repaired it and only charged me $10, but I'm a little too scared to use it as I can't afford to be in Dar the weekend with a car with a window that can't close.
Then some kind parent points to my back tyre with beautifulk tread and shows me a bulge.  Lovely.  Not a good idea to drive to Dar with a bulge sticking out of your tyre.  There's not a place in moshi where you drive in and get a tyre repaired or replaced.  No, you have to find a car spares place, negotiate a price for your tyre, load the new one in your boot, then find a fundi on the side of the road who changes tyres.  $130 for the tyre and thank the good Lord, only $3 for he fundi.  My other tyres are all Goodyear.  The new one is called Goodtime or something like that.  A Chinese copy of Goodyear.
Tyre all sorted, my wallet screaming with hunger pains, we go to El Rancho Thursday night to celebrate my promotion starting August of Head of Primary/PYP Coordinator.  I click my key remote to unlock the car to go home.  Click, click, click.  Nothing.  the car stays locked, the blue light on the dash of the alarm stays flashing.  I manually unlock the door with the key, as we used to do in the good old days.  Alarm goes off, sending the waitresses scurrying around like ants.  I try and start the car with the alarm blaring, but it has a special cut out feature.  Good if it's a robber, bad if it's you.  I search for some button to turn off the alarm, but it remains elusive.  I look for wires to yank, but they are too well hidden.  Whoever installed the alarm did a blastedly good job.  The waitresses are now sitting on El Rancho porch, laughing at me and my attempts to turn off my car alarm.  I want to get home.  The MSG in their food is already having an effect on my stomach.  I can feel it bubbling and rumbling and I know without a doubt, that I need my bathroom.  My hair stands up on my arms.  "We;ll walk," I say to Siobhan who glares at me and lifts her heavy backpack onto her back as she's only just returned from a very wet camping trip on West Kili.  I lock the car, the alarm blissfully stops, but the blue light still flashes that it's on, and we walk home.  Luckily, it's just around the crner, but Siobhan grunts and curses and cries, but I pretend not to hear her, just trudging on ahead, selectively deaf.  I sort of sadistically pray that the alarm will keep going off during the night and wipe the smiles and laughter off the waitresses faces.  But it doesn't.  All it does do is give me a sleepless night as I spend all night tossing and turning straining to hear my alarm going off inbetween the sounds of yapping, barking, howling dogs.  Our usual nightime lullaby.
Of course it rained all night long, so the next morning we had to wade through mud to negotiate our way to school.  Mr. Chucky, the school purchaser, took my keys and managed to get the batteries replaced, so thank God now it works.
On my way walking to El Rancho after school to fetch the car and try out the key, I came upon a pile of five used condoms on the side of the road.  Yes, I'm afraid I did count them as I found them intriguing.  they offered up so many questions.  How did they get there?  Was it one man who had sex five times or a gang bang?  Where did they come from?  Did some man just throw them out of the window as he drove past?  Because he couldn't have had sex there, as it's the road which is quite busy, and next to the road is a gravel path, the little stones would have been a passion killer for any woman, and then a deep ditch, so why were the condoms on the gravel?  Intriguing, definitely food for thought.  At least someone is practising safe sex.
Well, had better pack, I'm leaving for Dar-Es-Salaam in an hour.  Siobhan wants toasted hot cross buns, so I have to do my mommy-thing.  Wish me luck for my Book Launch on Monday night!  Have you bought your copy of The Case of Billy B yet from Amazon.com?
love
Cindy

No power, no shower

When will the big rains come?  I've heard so much about them, how the roads turn to mud, water run-offs overflow and houses flood, but the positive is that the rains fill the dams.  And, for a country that runs on hy7dro-power, they need water.  the last couple of weeks it's been like it was when we first moved here.  Almost daily power cuts, always from about 6pm at night going through to about 11.30pm.  I don't bother with candles anymore.  as soon as the power goes out, the battery on my laptop goes dead and it's dark outside, I just go to bed.  I can't be bothered with straining my eyes with poor candlelight anymore.  Last week, when we did have power, my body is already so tuned into early nights, that I was so tired at 8pm I went to bed, only to wake up at 10.30pm, work on my new novel until 1am and then go to bed.  Unfortunately, the disadvantage of no power during the day, which does happen sometimes, is that the gardener can't put on the pump to pump water to the house.  Which means when I want to shower at 6.45am, not having been abloe to shower the night before as there was no power for hot water, then there's no water to shower with, even if there is power.  Highly frustrating.  Going to work feeling dirty, trying to clean your dirty feet with spit on a facecloth is no fun.  it puts me in a bad mood all day.  But I do tell the kids in the morning, no shower so don't cross me, and they tend to listen to that and take it on board and behave.

Siobhan spent the past week practising like mad for her song in the Variety Show on Friday night.  If I hear Taylor swift's Fifteen again I just might scream, and if I haven't had a shower, I just might kill.  I really want to work on my new book, Not Telling, as I am on a roll.  However, since I accidentally knocked diet coke over Siobhan's macbook, it no longer works.  although we have a television, we have no cable, and our dvd player has stopped working, says 'Disc error' everytime you put a disc in.  The internet says that it's because of dust on the laser, so i have to try and clean that, because Siobhan is unable to entertain herself quietly.  All she wants to do is watch movies or TV series and she can only do it on my laptop.  Which means I can't write my book.  And it's my fault she's in this predicament, as I spilt the coke.  When I tell her I need computer time, she plays her guitar and sings.  Loudly.  I can't concentrate then, so just save my work and hand her my laptop to watch movies with and go to bed.  Teenagers.  I'm so grateful when teachers give her homework to do, as then I can get some of my work done, although she sings when she does homework as well.  Unfortunately, she doesn't have an off button, or volume control.  But I have to say, she did a fantastic job at the Variety Show.  She does have an awesome voice.  Her first act was an Indian dance group.  That was pretty good, they looked like a group of Bollywood dancers, only thing is, not an Indian in the group.  She's taking Indian (Bollywood) dance lessons every Friday afternoon, and she is very talented, I must say.  Takes after her Grandmother, that's for sure!  When the lights dimmed and she stood in front of the microphone to sing, I started shaking so much and held my breath, I was so nervous.  She oozed confidence, and was fantastic.  I was so proud of her, and when the song ended and everybody started cheering for her and applauding, I started hyperventilating from holding my breath for five minutes during the song.  I found it embarassing when everybody came up to me to congratulate me on Siobhan's amazing voice and singing.  Like seriously, what I have I done?  I just popped her out and she definitely hasn't inherited my singing voice!

The great news is that my order of books arrived on Friday from the US.  they only took two and a half weeks to arrive, so now it's all go for my big book launch of The Case of Billy B in Dar-Es-Salaam on the 29th March.  Which reminds me, I need to search online for some cheap and good accommodation.  Not sure if that goes together or not.

Spent all of yesterday in the sun, so my face looks like a toxic tomato after it's been dropped in nuclear waste.  The day started off as a bit of a nightmare, but improved considerably as it progressed.  I was supposed to make a batch of Hertzog cookies for the South African stand at the Arusha campus's International Day.  I was going to be baking all Friday afternoon, but then remembered that I didn't have a beater to make the meringue.  My friend, Mags, leant me her one, and the plan was that I was going to make these cookies after the Variety Show.  Unfortunately, the show only ended at 10pm and when I got home, there was no power because of a power cut, so I set my alarm for 5am and went to bed.  But because I was scared *I was going to oversleep, I woke up every hour to check the time.  After mixing up my short pastry, I realised that I don't have my rolling pin, it's in storage in Cape Town, so I cursed heavily.  I made the dough softer so I could squish it into the patty pans with my fingers.  Next problem, was that I had no time to let the cookies cool down as I should before lifting them out the patty pan, as I had to be at school at 6.45am to leave on the bus with noisy kids for a swim gala in Arusha.  More cursing, broken cookies glued together with apricot jam.  Siobhan woke up and asked me why I was complaining to the cookies as they are inanimate and can't respond.  My answer was a glare and more cursing.

My swimmers swam like they were being chased by crocodiles and made me so proud.  As usual, I failed to take precautions against the harsh African sun, and ended up being burned to a crisp.  Then went straight to International Day and immediately downed a big bottle of ice cold beer even though I hate the stuff.  It was nectar and didn't even touch sides.  My friend marina, brought out an ice-cold bottle of South african white wine, and I thought the gods were finally on my side.  Unfortunately, no corkscrew, which put a bit of a spanner in the works.  With the white wine rapidly warming up under the hot sun, I quickly skedaddled down to the French stand where this guy Michel, who has a French cheese and wine shop in Arusha, was standing selling expensive glasses of his frightfully expensive nasty French wine.  "Hi Michel, howya doing?  Could I please use your corkscrew to open up my bottle of wine."
He wrinkled up his nose as if he was a mole who had come across something unpleasant buried in his mole-hole.  "No," he said in his frightfully put-on French accent, "I vill not let my cockscroo touch a piece of shit bottle like that."

Excuse a mois Mr. Frenchy, I thought to myself, this is not a piece of shit bottle but a bottle of good quality cheap South African plonk.  I laughed, mistakenly thinking he was joking, and repeated my request, and he repeated his answer and waved his hand for me to disappear.  His girlfriend told me he was being serious, he meant it, and I should go.  Well Gaston, er Michel, you are so lucky I never grabbed your 'cockscroo' and shoved it up your arse.  Luckily, the Swiss stand were far more friendly and obliging.  It could be because of that yodelling they do on the alps, and they lent me their Swiss army knife with corkscrew.  The South African wine was delicious, far superior to the French plonk that is sooooooooooo expensive, and I was truly tempted to go back and hit him over the head with my empty bottle of South African wine, but I managed to show some restraint.  That and because we had just opened another bottle and had to drink it before it got too warm.  A bus trip back with extremely noisy singing shouting kids and I thought my head would explode.  Mind you, it could have been a combination of sun and great wine.  Dinner at friends, great company, and back home at 1am, a long day, and other than an altercation with some Pool Mommies from Braeburn School at the gala and the french twerp and his precious 'cockscroo' it was a good day.
But, no internet at home because now my phone line is down.  Power, but no phone.  Guess, you just can't win, eh?  But the Stormers won, beat the hurricanes, so our Super 14 Rugby is looking good this year!
Have a wonderful, wonderful week ahead, and remember to stay far away from Frenchmen and their 'cockscroos'!
love
Cindy
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Welcome to my BookWorld!

There are times in my BookWorld when I feel as if I am finally getting somewhere.  I've managed to start to put my idea of a Book Tour into fruition.  I had this idea, seeing as I'm driving down to Cape Town from Tanzania, I may as well stop at bookshops along the way, and do a sort of an 'African Book Tour.'  The notion sounded rather romantic I thought.  Well, I have finalised my launch of this African Book Tour, it will be held at A Novel Idea in Dar-Es-Salaam on the 30th March 2010.  They are talking about getting in television and newspaper reporters, and while this sounds exciting, I am quite nervous.  I've never done anything quite like this before.  My book signing in Nanjing was small potatoes compared to this and they are treating me slike some kind of a celebrity, which frankly, I find quite frightening, being the quiet and reserved type of person that I am.

No sooner had I fanned my face as it was overheating with excitement from the Dar-Es-Salaam news, than I discovered the most amazing exciting thing ever on Amazon.com.  Someone has put up a great review for The Case of Billy B, which I have copied here.
5.0 out of 5 stars I had tears in my eyes, February 13, 2010

By Readers Favorite "Readers Favorite" (Hawesville, KY USA) - See all my reviews

Based on a true story, this is a fictionalized account of one boy`s history of child abuse. Born with a cleft lip, ignored by his mother for the first six months of his life, she walks out on him and his father. His Army father is now faced with the task of raising Billy by himself, trying to keep a roof over their heads, and feeding and taking care of Billy while trying to further his Army career. Finally, realizing there was no other choice, he leaves the service and vows that he and Billy will make it.

The women he goes out with only have one thing on their mind... Marriage. Billy`s dad finally becomes consumed with two things in his life,beside Billy, Sex and Vodka. Unable to hold a job, he is always on the move. Ending up in Michigan, he meets up with a woman who runs a day care center. Infatuated with Chris, she is very abusive toward Billy, becoming a very real threat in their lives. Not only does Billy suffer the abuse of Stella, his father is not much better. Mentally, Billy has withdrawn into himself and has seen and endured more then any child his age should.

One has to read this book with an open mind to see and visualize the sheer torment that this young child endured. Called a freak and a misfit, can there be any help for this struggling father and his son? As he and Billy are continually stalked by Stella, it seems Billy becomes a pawn in the game of survival. Can Chris save himself and provide a stable home for them.

I had tears in my eyes reading this just wanting to hold Billy and show him that there was love in this world and no need for the suffering he was going through. The ending of the book left me with open minded and cries sequel. This book is highly recommended, but be prepared for coarse language and sexual content. The book contains material not suitable for those 17 and under.
 
Besides all the good The Case of Billy B stuff, I've been working flat out on my new novel, Not Telling and also managed to publish a new hub on Hubpages.com Common mistakes make by women during sex, as a follow up to the one I did called Common mistakes made by men during sex.
 
This week is going to be a busy one as we have our evaluation visit from the IB.  Hope your St Villainstine Day was awesome!
love
Cindy

Working makes me grey

I do love my job, honest I do.  But if I was absolutely honest, I'd rather write.  My dream life, would be to stay in one place for 3 months and write, write, write and read all day long.  Take a few days off to explore and have a couple more adventures, read a bit, write some more.  Wallow around in the ocean somewhere warm like a hippo that moved from its mud puddle.  Sigh, doesn't that sound like the ideal life?  Unfortunately, a life like that costs money, and as there is no rich millionaire on the horizon, that kind of a life is a fantasy.  Oh well, guess I just have to stick to teaching and keep my writing as a hobby somewhere.
School started this week and it is actually great being back.  I love the school, the kids, and the school grounds are one of the most beautiful I've ever worked out.  The verdant greenery because of all the unseasonal rain inspires creativity.  One feels relaxed, at peace and highly creative and what more does a writer really need?  Seriously.  Okay, money would be good.
It seems like I'm now getting my books Kindle-ized.  Previously, this was an impossibility because I am not from the USA, I don't have a USA bank account or tax number.  Now, they seem to be prepared to post you a cheque.  My last royalty cheque went missing in the post, and when I queried it, it had already been cashed by whomever had intercepted my post.  Bastards!  So cheques are a little dicey.  I might still get that non-resident tax number thingie, because without it I pay 30% witholding tax on my royalties.  Yet again, bastards!  Bastards, must be my word of the day!
Tony returns to South Africa next Friday and we'll miss him.  He goes straight into a 10 week prac block at The President Hotel.  Hopefully, he'll earn lots of tips as this time he'll be waiting and working behind the bar.  No tips when he was in the kitchen!  He's started driving my car.  Not yet in traffic!  One of the parents at school was a driving instructor for the South African Army and she's been taking him for lessons.  A couple of hedges and a ditch later, but luckily he seems to have got the hang of it.  I'm still going to let him have proper lessons anyway when he gets back to Cape Town.  Riding down dirt roads with hardly any traffic and going slowly to avoid cows is a bit different to driving in a bustling city!
Siobhan is happy to be back at her school with her friends and is busy practising songs for the Variety Show in March.  She's been writing her own song as well, so we'll see. 
We finally managed to get a copy of Singh is King, the Bollywood movie that we acted in as extras when we were in Mumbai a few years ago.  Of course, they had edited me completely out of the movie, but Siobhan and Tony were very visible during their scene and both appeared numerous times.  Siobhan was so excited the first time she saw herself in the movie, that she jumped up screaming with excitement and ran straight into the door, nearly taking her eye out.  The screams of excitement quickly turned to screams of pain as Siobhan has never been one to handle pain.  We just ignored her and continued with what we were doing, as there was no blood so she wasn't dying, even though it did sound like she was.  She now sports an awesome bruise below her eyebrow which you can see in this photo. 

Friday I saw a solar eclipse for the first time.  I know that they happen, but this is the first time I've actually seen it.  It was quite amazing and spooky at the same time.  We had these special glasses that you use to look at the sun, and could clearly see the moon in front of the sun!
Well, am busy researching my new book, while I wait for the proof copy of The Case of Billy B to arrive.  My preliminary title for the new book is Not Telling, but I am not sure whether or not that will be the final title.  I'll have to see where the story takes me.  I think once The Case of Billy B is out and published, I'll do a book launch, probably in Arusha at The Blue Heron.  I might visit them and discuss the details when I take Tony through for his testing on Tuesday.  I'm just hoping that my proof copy arrives soon.  I hate waiting!  Okay, note to self, be more patient.
Had a major hassle last week as my website was down.  I eventually found out that the person who was hosting it, ran into some difficulties, so I spent the whole week figuring out how to get my old website up in the meantime.  That made me grey!  Anyway, I had to change the nameserver and IP address and then it worked.  Thank God!  But it took me close on a week to find out that that was what I had to do.  So the old website is pretty basic, but I'll start working on a more up to date one now and within a month or so will have that one up instead.  Hey, if you type in Fear, Phobias and Frozen Feet on Youtube, you'll find my little podcast video thingamebob I made.
Have a super duper weekend!
love
Cindy

Ngorongoro Crater and beyond!

Woo Hoo holidays are ending!  Why am I excited?  Lord alone knows.  It could be because the fact that the holiday is over means that I can look forward to the next holiday, and that brings me even closer to my extra-long summer holiday in June.  mind you, it'll be winter in South Africa then.  But, it could also be because when the holiday is over then I get myself all focused and in the zone to start working on my next book!  Exciting stuff eh?
On the 30th December, Arden, Andrei and their twin boys, Siobhan and Tony all piled in my car and we headed to the Ngorongoro Crater which is supposed to be a World Heritage site.  It's not too far down the drag from Arusha - all in all about a 3-4 hour drive from Moshi.  It just depends on how brave you are to overtake slow-moving trucks on blind bends.  It was amazing all seven of us fitted into my car.  I have a Pajero with a little Toyota engine in it.  That means, when you go up steep hills you have to think of the little engine, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!"  Well, my car did.  It made all the steep hills.  I sort of had to lean forward though, and whisper encouragement to the engine.
Just before Ngorongoro Crater, you see Lake Manyara.  Apparently the game viewing is awesome there, but we left that for another day.  they do charge an arm and a leg for you to enter the parks in Tanzania.  We finally arrived at Ngorongoro and the got all shirty with us and wouldn't let us in.  They wanted us to hire a driver guide.  "Where on earth would he fit into my overly stuffed vehicle?" I asked with tears in my eyes.  Or it could have been dust, after 4 hours of singing kids I wasn't sure.  I lied.  Okay, just a little one.  I told the guard at the gate that we knew the crater, I'd been there two months before.  I didn't even know what the crater looked like, let alone been there before.  The guard asked how I'd managed the ascent before.  "Ascent?  No problem," I said, wondering what the hell the guard was talking about.  Andrei wanted to do some 4 x 4 driving and took over the crater trip.  At the next gate, they stopped us again and told us we needed a guide.  Tony piped up, "I'm a qualified South African game ranger."  He did write an exam and get a level one game ranger certificate after a 12 day course two years ago.  As the queue of 4 x 4 vehicles behind us was getting longer, the guard suggested Tony accompany him inside and complete some forms basically saying that if we left the vehicle at any time, Tony would go to jail.  Fair enough, I thought.
The descent was quite steep but not too bad, and we passed heaps of little Maasai villages and Maasai warriors on the rim of the crater.  In the crater itself, driving was no problem.  We saw many different types of game, an elephant crossed our path - I wonder if that gives bad luck like a black cat crossing your path?  While wondering along a dirt track to check out some hyenas cunninly spotted by Tony, my game ranger son, Arden announced that she had to pee.  Badly.  Unfortunately, the only toilet in the crater was closed, the road to it had been closed off.  We drove around taking some more taking photos, exclaiming at the animals, while all the while Arden's face was developing this pinched look and I swear I saw her eyeballs start to float.  Eventually, while we were admiring a zebra grazing next to the vehicle, Arden's strangled voice came from the back of the car.  "I have to go - NOW!"  As no vehicles were visible, Arden opened the back door and dropped her knickers and swung her bum out of the back of the car.  What sounded like the Victoria falls echoed through the car.  Just then, we saw a vehicle heading towards us.  "Car 100m away!" we shouted.  Arden replied that she was peeing as fast as she could.  Tony started to imagine what it would be like when he got arrested for letting a woman hang her naked bum out of the car to pee in the crater.  "Hurry!" we shouted, "Car approaching rapidly!" 

Just as the car drew level, Arden shook off the last drops and slammed the door shut.  "I had to stop three quarters of the way through," she muttered, "But I feel so much better now!"
The ascent was something else.  No wonder they said we needed a guide.  You have to drive up a virtually vertical face of the crater.  But, Andrei managed with aplomb.  He was great!  I don't think I would have been able to do it!  the crater is spectacular, you are guaranteed of seeing animals there.  We even saw lion and rhino!  Basically, we saw the big 5 bar the leopard.  Damn pussy cats hid away.  Check out my photos on Facebook of our Pangani holiday and Ngorongoro trip.  http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=370042&id=795715443&l=592d04ea1f
The next day we relaxed at home, went curio shopping and celebrated New year's eve by going to the Moshi club to check out amazing acrobats, dancing troupe, but by 11.30pm we were too exhausted to stay until new year and left to go home, all collapsing in bed asleep at quarter to midnight.  How sad was that!
Arden and Andrei and kids left on the 1st and we miss them.  Tony leaves on the 22nd.  We'll miss him as well.  Then it'll just be Siobhan and myself!  Ready to start our weight loss action program.
I bought a new laptop yesterday, so am ready for the year!  Hee Hah!  Have written a couple of new hubs to test it out http://hubpages.com/hub/Valentines-Day-Gifts-for-your-Dog and also http://hubpages.com/hub/Valentines-Day-Gifts-for-Geeky-Guys Check them out.
love
Cindy

Book Launch 5 December 2008

Preparations are under way for the Book Launch of Stop the World, I need to pee. After much dithering and deliberating, I've decided to hold the Book Launch at Finnegan's Wake Irish Pub in Nanjing. They've already put my poster advertising the launch on their website. http://www.finneganswake.com.cn/fwb-02.html. Very exciting and a bit nerve-racking. I'm praying like mad that the books being sent over from America will arrive on time. It's a bit hard to do a book signing without any books hahahaha