The Desert

I've always like deserts. Since I was a kid. I still remember drinking a warmish coke at a small garage on the other side of Sesriem, and thinking that deserts are cool. There's space there. Nadine Gordimer once wrote - “A desert is a place without expectation”. She's right. The desert just is. Took a trip into the dunes yesterday afternoon. Even the grumpy teenagers asked to go again.

Street Photography

Street Photography originated in Europe, and is traditionally black and white. But colour is so much part of the whole fabric of society here, I couldn't do it in black and white without losing something in the translation. These were taken in a souq in Dubai, using only available light.

Late afternoon

Late afternoon is my favourite time of day. One of the advantages of living in the desert is that you don't have to drive far to get away from everyone, and still have a pretty cool place for a braai at sundown. And nobody gets to see that it's beer you're drinking instead of lemonade. This dune field is about 10km from home. The people in the pic are the two sprogs, the spousoid, and the BIL.

Jingle bells

To all of you that have been kind enough to read my blogs through the past year, may your Christmas be peaceful and safe.

Dreams are ten a penny..

What did you want to be when you grew up? How different is reality to what you thought it was going to be? We were all going to be successful and happy and live long exciting lives…. And then you discover that life is more complex than that. The girlfriend you love pisses off and marries some other doos, and the chic you do marry gains 30 kg just after you marry her and decides she doesn’t like sex anymore. What you study to be at university is suddenly not quite as good because of the downturn in that specific sector of the economy, and becoming a plumber would have made you a helluva lot richer than studying medicine for 6 years. And yes, you can now afford to buy the Porche you were going to drive when you were 30, but then the kids can’t go to university and the house will definitely not be paid for, and anyway – you now have a boep and you’re bald and the chicks don’t dig old fat people in sports cars. And on top of that driving the car to work every day in Joburg is not quite the same as parking it in front of the casino in Monaco after you’d raced it down all the way from Paris where you were going to have that little apartment overlooking the Eiffel tower. And you’ve given up on the small ship in the harbour because you get seasick…

Me? I was going to be a chopper pilot…

Wadi Biyh

Wadi Biyh is a canyon system that heads into the mountains from right behind my house. After about 25 km it road goes right over the top in a series of hairpin bends, reaching almost 2,000 metres above sea level. It's at least 10 degrees cooler at the top. For me the most amazing thing is to find the terraced fields at the top. I gather they still plant a wheat-like grass there in the rainy season. Most of them are still inaccessible by road, and they would have to walk at least a day to get to them. And there's no water there.

Dubai at night

My son and I sneaked up to the 47th floor of this apartment complex, then ducked into a service door that lead another 3 levels up. This is one of the pics I took. Next time I'll take a picnic...

Communists

A long long time ago I was in the army. Besides fighting with everyone who didn't believe in our ideology, we also fought the Russians, because they were (i) evil, (ii) not Christians and (iii) we had to prevent them from attaining world domination. Or something like that anyway. I don't think the government was too sure of it all either. Except for one thing. Communists were very very bad people, and they were hiding everywhere. Even under your bed.

Friday mornings was Battalion Parade. Every able bodied soldier had to be there to march in parade ground order, be inspected, be shat on by the RSM. The RSM for those who haven't been in the army, is the guy who knows he is god.

The night before I had been to a restaurant in town with a few guys from the regiment. The restaurant's decor consisted of flags from all over the world. So we borrowed one, after a fair amount of red wine. And hung it on the parade ground flagpole at 3 in the morning.

The next morning their were enough officers around to take part in the parade, so all I needed to do was stand on the edge of the parade ground just behind the commandant. We were halfway through the parade when the RSM (he controls the parade ground) saw the red flag with the hammer and sickle. I honestly thought he was going to die. No sense of humour the poor man. The whole parade shuddered to a halt. He would personally rip the head off the responsible individual and shit on his lungs. And then fuck his sister. And then rip his balls of and eat them for breakfast. Knowing the RSM, I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable - because he was quite capable of doing just that.

The flag was ripped of the flagpole, and after another 15 minutes of ranting the parade dissolved and the RSM witch hunt started. He never found the culprits. But that evening in the mess, the commandant bought me a beer. Didn't say a word though. Except call me a communist.

Photography

My father always took photographs. Its one of my earliest memories I have of him. We also had an 8mm movie camera that you had to wind up to use, but it was always an add on. Photographs are what I remember. When he could, my Dad took slides, and if we nagged him enough on a Sunday evening, we’d get to haul out the projector screen and watch pictures from our last holiday in Etosha, or my Dad’s trip to London or Paris. If we got lucky we’d even have popcorn with it.

I remember my Dad leaving on his overseas trips. He’d go for a month (flying was an event in those day), lugging a suitcase of photographic eqipment with him. I kid you not. He had a Hasselblad at the time (those who know cameras also know they only come in sizes similar to bricks). It had the advantage that you could swap between colour and black and white film without changing spools. Very neat. Then there was the tripod, and the wide ange lens, and 3 telephoto lenses. And the light meter. And the cleaning kit. And a separate box for the flash unit.

I was given the Hasselblad when I was thirteen. It crapped itself shortly after that, but it instilled in me a passion for taking photographs that is still with me. These days cameras are smaller, and easier to use. I don’t travel with a whole suitcase of equipment. But I always have a camera with me.

He took this pic years ago, when I was about 8. It’s a scanned copy of a damaged slide. We were fighting veld fires in the Eastern Free State, late at night. My Dad doesn’t take photos anymore. But I still send him my pics. And we still talk about travelling. That’s something else I got from him.

Careful what you wish for...

Ever heard of Ulaanbaatar? Genghis Khan comes from there. These are the steppes, small barbarians on horseback, steak tartare and all that..

A while ago the spousoid came up with a suggestion. Lets move to Mongolia she said. My cousin lived there for years and he loved it, she said. I want to experience seasons again, not just hot, she said. And it even snows, she said. Life would be simpler, she said.

So of course a posting becomes available in Mongolia, and I apply. Less than 48 hours later, an email and a 15 minute conversation later, the guy says, ok, I like you. How much do you want? Now I'm getting cold feet already (and I'm not even in the snow yet), so I ask for an outrageous amount of money. Ok, he says – I'll send you an offer. Fuuuuuuuck.

I've had a look at some pics. The architectural style of the buildings is best described as Soviet grunge. It's not winter yet. This morning's temp was -16 degrees....

Will I go? I have absolutely no idea.. especially since I've just had another (tentative) offer to go and work in Moscow. Which one would you choose? Which one would you be sorry you didn't go to when one day you're 80 years old?

Careful what you wish for – you may just get it.

Expat Life

A friend recently asked me about expat life, and why I do it. She made me think. For me it happened by accident – I was transferred to another country way way back and long ago. And never looked back. It wasn't a conscious choice at first. It just happened. Now its probably too late. A bit like pilots doing crop dusting. Once you do that, they won't hire you for anything else. Although it sounds glamorous, expat life is not for everyone. The theory is simple. You go live in another country for a while, gain some experiences, make some money, spend some money, go back home.

There are dangers involved. In the flashy places like Dubai, you get caught in a golden cage very easily. You don't pay taxes, prices are cheap – so with your disposable income you buy a Landcruiser or a Merc, a boat, stop cooking at home and eating out..and one day you suddenly find that you cannot afford to leave. Your standard of living is so high that you spend the rest of your life trying to maintain it. The more adventurous souls that venture into the the developing countries, face other dangers. In Tanzania I knew a few people who had definitely been there for far too long. They start refusing to go on leave, swear at head office people, come to work barefoot, start drinking more than a bottle of whisky a day....and end up living in a hut or somewhere next to a lake. Actually, come to think of it, that sounds like a perfectly sane idea.

Then you get career expat. A much rarer, tougher breed. I'm not talking about people that move to another country, and then settle there. They decided to do this for a living, moving from country to country as the demand for their particular skill set moves. They tend to be oil people, engineers, miners, soldiers, and as countries become more settled, finance people. There is a high demand for people who have international experience. And the rewards are there. But you have to manage the rewards (international travel, good holidays, buckets of money) with the downside (3rd culture kids, diseases, extreme climates, lack of friends, language problems, getting thrown in jail for having a “kiss my ass” bumper sticker). The divorce rate is sky high – for exploration geologists for instance its around 83%. The trick is to find a hugely understanding wife. One that likes moving too. Like me. It's becoming more common now – people even write books about it – Raising Global Nomads, A Moveable Marriage, and the classic Third Culture Kids are just a few.

The moment the cons outweigh the pros, you need to get thew hell out of Dodge. If you don't – better not bitch too loud. Its all your own fault anyway..

Rocks

We had one of our scheduled blasts today. In the foreground is 40,000 tonnes of rocks that will be loaded onto trucks over the next two days. And then dumpred in the sea to make islands. The truck in the backgroun has just been loaded. Every rock on the trailer weighs more than 6 tonnes. I went and checked at the weighbridge after the truck left. It had 63 tonnes on board. In Europe the maximum is about 25 tonnes. Here? If it can move, its allowed.

11 November

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep,
though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Problem solving

I'm back. Spent most of the time babysitting the boss. Not a wasted trip though. We went to South Africa thinking we had a solution to a problem, but ended up with more questions - and other solutions. We need to move 1.5 million tonnes of sand. Every day.For three years. With the cirrent worldwide mining boom there is not enough free equipment available to move a quarter of that. To build a new dragline (a bucket excavator that can lift 200 tonnes at a shot) takes three years. And they want to start moving earth by December..

Anyway, the pic is about something else. This is a square in Sandton filled with hotels and restaurants. The pretty people hang out here. The steak was good. And the Shiraz was even better.

See ya later, alligator

I'll be in South Africa on business till Saturday. See you when I get back.

Kak day

This just about sums it up...

Industrial Wasteland

Dubai - again

I've started experimenting with low light photography. It's a lot more difficult than I thought, but a huge amount of fun. I've never had much success with flash photography, so I try and avoid it at all costs. The results are almost always more interesting.

Helluva job

I have just sorted,catalogued, and added keywords to just over 11,000 photos. Been long overdue, but its almost done. Another 1,300 to go then its all over. Will get back to blogging and commenting again soon. Right now I'm a bit frazzled.

There is nowhere quite like it..

Building in Dubai just doesn’t stop. This is the Dubai Marina.High density living personified. Two years ago there was nothing here. Now this. Its all part of the grand plan. From the Palm Islands to Media City and Sports City and University City and Business Bay and the new 140 square kilometre Free Trade Zone at Jebel Ali and 40 others just like it. Each one of these developments is bigger than Manhattan. And they’re all being built at the same time. One of the Group companies is busy with eight building of over 90 stories - that’s besides the Burj Dubai that the already the tallest structure in the world. Nothing quite like this has happened anywhere before. There is no financial model to work from. Where its going to, nobody knows. Everyone is coming to look, to learn. Where else in the world is there a country where only 15% of the population are citizens? Where high tech lives side by side with traditional dhows still sailing the trade winds to Muscat and Zanzibar as they have for 4,000 years. This is an interesting place.

1421 - The Year China Discovered the World

"...On the 8th of March, 1421, the largest fleet the world had ever seen sailed from its base in China. The ships, huge junks nearly five hundred feet long and built from the finest teak, were under the command of Emperor Zhu Di's loyal eunuch admirals. Their mission was 'to proceed all the way to the end of the earth to collect tribute from the barbarians beyond the seas' and unite the whole world in Confucian harmony. The journey would last over two years and circle the globe.

When they returned Zhu Di lost control and China was beginning its long, self-imposed isolation from the world it had so recently embraced. The great ships rotted at their moorings and the records of their journeys were destroyed. Lost was the knowledge that Chinese ships had reached America seventy years before Columbus and circumnavigated the globe a century before Magellan. They had also discovered Antarctica, reached Australia three hundred and fifty years before Cook and solved the problem of longitude three hundred years before the Europeans..."

Read this book. It makes you think. This one was a bit of a lightbulb moment for me. It read like a novel, and makes you realise just how far ahead of the rest of the world the Chinese Empire really was. The research is ongoing, and reported on their website. Many scientists call it crap, mostly I think because (i) it messes with their theories and (ii) a non-historian thought it up first. The various "for and against" arguments are in Wikipedia.

Things that keep you busy...

I haven’t been online much lately, cuz I’ve been playing in my sand pit. Building things….



The Emirates have now started on their third palm tree shaped island. This one will probably be about 4 times the size of the original one. At the moment they are throwing 1.2 million tonnes or rock into the sea every month to make this island. To keep on track they need to throw 1.8 million tonnes of rock into the sea. Every month.

This is what this tower is for. It sorts rocks into different sizes, from 1kg all the way to 3 tonnes. At the rate of 2,000 tonnes an hour, 20 hours a day. Its going to keep us busy.

Globalization

You think of all kinds of crap while you mindlessly flip the meat over on the braai (BBQ for less civilized countries). I ended up thinking about globalization. There is a groundswell of movement against it. But its a fact. Like a cow.











If you look at the pic, and our meal tonight - these are the countries involved:



China - the BBQ tongs, and my slip slops (sandals)

USA - the BBQ, and the charcoal

Tanzania - my Bulyanhulu Gold Mine shirt

Malawi - my kikoi/skirt/wrap

Namibia - the beer

Mexico - the other beer

Australia - the beef and the potatoes

New Zealand - lamb

Holland - capsicums (red and yellow peppers)

Turkey - dried apricots

Saudi Arabia - onions

South Africa - Aromat (BBQ spices)

Lebanon - parsley

India - spices

United Arab Emirates - bamboo skewers foro the sosaties/kebabs/mishakaki/shashlyki

Ramadhan Kareem

If you want to see a lovely description of Ramadhan, go read Kismet's Chronicles. It is a time of introspection, and spiritual revival, of family, and giving, and looking after the less fortunate. The photo is of the big Mosque in Ras al Khaimah. Sheikh Zayed, the first ruler of the UAE, had one built in each of the seven Emirates.

My home town...

This is where I live - for now. So I call it home. I am slowly building up a collection of photos of this dorpie, but want to add the side that is not as glamorous. Part of the town consists of the old Arab houses, which are build of coral and mudstone, and poor quality cement bricks. With no town planning. And small little alley ways. And hundreds of satellite dishes. Will be posting some more soon.

COME YOU MASTERS OF WAR...

You that build all the guns

You that build the death planes

You that build the big bombs

You that hide behind walls

You that hide behind desks

I just want you to know

I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin'

But build to destroy

You play with my world

Like it's your little toy

You put a gun in my hand

And you hide from my eyes

And you turn and run farther

When the fast bullets fly

Like Judas of old

You lie and deceive

A world war can be won

You want me to believe

But I see through your eyes

And I see through your brain

Like I see through the water

That runs down my drain

You fasten the triggers

For the others to fire

Then you set back and watch

When the death count gets higher

You hide in your mansion

As young people's blood

Flows out of their bodies

And is buried in the mud

You've thrown the worst fear

That can ever be hurled

Fear to bring children

Into the world

For threatening my baby

Unborn and unnamed

You ain't worth the blood

That runs in your veins

How much do I know

To talk out of turn

You might say that I'm young

You might say I'm unlearned

But there's one thing I know

Though I'm younger than you

Even Jesus would never

Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question

Is your money that good

Will it buy you forgiveness

Do you think that it could

I think you will find

When your death takes its toll

All the money you made

Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die

And your death'll come soon

I will follow your casket

In the pale afternoon

And I'll watch while you're lowered

Down to your deathbed

And I'll stand o'er your grave

'Til I'm sure that you're dead

(Doug)

The Ten Universal Laws of the Warrior Code

1. Pay attention.
Stay in the present. It's the only place anything is really happening.

2. Take responsibility.
This is your life, take it back. Either you get to own it, or you blame someone or
something else for it. Choose.

3. No Kvetching.
No whining, no sniveling - it takes you out of the present and lets you abdicate
responsibility.

4. Don't take any shit.
It's very bad for one's self esteem to take any abuse. Stand up to your tyrants
both internal and external. The cost is too great not to.

5. Do it anyway.
Hard choices temper our strength and our integrity; they make the difference
between a life of mediocrity and a life of excellence.

6. Don't quit.
Look at what stops you, at where you give the effort up. That is the edge between
becoming a victim or a warrior.

7. Keep your agreements
A warrior is only as good as his or her word. The way we build self-trust and
trust in others is by making and keeping our agreements.

8. Keep your sense of humour.
Otherwise whats the point? Humour helps us stretch beyond ourselves and our
own limits.

9. Love one another
Its the way we remember we are not alone in the universe.

10. Honour your connection to Source.

War

bring up the Twelve Pounders!

- all the horses are dead here, sir

bring 'em up by mule then

- all the mules are dead here, sir

well bring 'em up by hand, boys

- all the battery men are dead here, sir

well I need them Twelve Pounders

- there ain't no artillery left here, sir

Bring Up The Twelve Pounders - (Paul Kennerley)
White Mansions, 1978

A better holiday

Not many people know about the Konigsberg. She was a German battleship, based in East Africa in the first world war. Bigger and better than anything the British had, she was a threat to stability in the East African region. She holed up in the Rufiji River delta due to engine troubles. The English found her and blocked the river - it took several months, 21 ships and a number of battles before she was finally sunk in the muddy water of the Rufiji. Animated maps of the battle you can see here.







But the story doesn't end there. Some enterprising German major called von Lettow-Vorbeck took the main deck guns off her. He added some wheels and dragged them around the east african bush for four year. He beat the crap out of the South African, British and Indian troops. We had 125,000 troops looking for him - he had 2,500, of which I think only 600 were German. The rest were Africans. Ran rings around us he did. Innovative man he was - promoted African troops above his German soldiers if they were good. Unheard of in his day. One of those guns now stands in front of the Union Buildings in Pretoria.



The Konigsberg was last seen in 1965. Most of it was cut up for scrap metal by people over the years. The Rufiji delta is as remote today as it was 90 years ago. Few people go there - swamps, malaria, crocodiles - they all keep the riff raff out.



Sometime next year I want to take some sidescan sonar equipment and see if i can find the bits that are left. Who's coming with? The beer will be cold..

Dragan effect

This is my first attempt. I have a lot to learn about photoshop.. I can see where to improve now that I've posted it. This is going to take some work. Thanks Chi..

Censorship

School has just started for the midgets. This is my daughters 2nd day in high school (the year starts in Sept here). On her 2nd day, she had to take in her brand new science text book, which cost about R250. So that the teacher could tear a page out. WTF??? We aren't told about this, I only found out by accident when the kids talked about it. The page has a drawing of the male and female sex organs of a human on it. This is not acceptable and is in contrast of the moral values of the country/teacher/fuckwit that thought this up. Now of course there's a teeny weeny problem. The exams are external, and set in the UK. So the questions are from the UK, and the exams are marked in the UK. And they have to know the pic for the exams - Now what? Sometimes morons should not be placed in charge of schools

Andrzej Dragan

Fuckit, some people leave me gobsmacked. Andrzej Dragan has a PhD in quantum physics, is a prizewinning music composer. But a while ago he started taking photos. This man is a genius. Go look at his stuff. Picked this one up from Chihuahua's blog

Madiba

Benstof is a young dude with a Pretoria accent who sings cool songs. George Weideman is an afrikaner poet. He was my high school Afrikaans teacher, way back in the 70's. This is a bit of both of them.

I'm back

I've tried Yahoo, MySpace, blog24, mweb, multiply (not too bad but it's been banned here), and some others that are not even worth mentioning. They're all into social networking, and thats NOT what I want to do. I keep coming back to blogger. This blog is for me, my thoughts, and my photos. And for those who make me think.

Elena Filatova lives in Kiev. She is in her early thirties, and she's not unattractive. But that is not what sets her apart from everyone else. Elena is also known as "gamma girl" - she rides to Chernobyl on her motorbike. Regularly. She reports on her website what happened there. Not the government sanitized version. It is a scary scary place.




This is what she says;

These are our Pyramids. The sarcophagus will remain radioactive for at least 100.000 years. The age for the pyramids of Egypt is 5,000 to 6,000 years. Each cultural epoch left something to humanity, something immortal, like Judaic epoch left us Bible, Greek culture- philosophy, Romans contributed law and we are leaving Sarcophagus, the construction that is going to outlive all other signs of our epoch and may last longer than the pyramids.




I'm not against nuclear power, I think it may be the only way forward. But we have to be very careful what we play with. Some of it bites.

Many would call her behaviour idiotic. I think she is a very brave girl.

Where is home to you?

I've lived all over the world, from Hyde Park next to Harrods to a hammock between two pickups just the other side of nowhere. I'll probably settle in Cape Town. One day. When I'm all grown up. But Zululand is home. There is just no place like it. I've been in an out of Zululand since the late 60's, and once it becomes part of you....well it kinda sticks.

This is taken at St Luica about two weeks ago. My first pilgrimage back in a while. In the background is Mapelane - the 2nd highest vegetated dune in the world (i know i know - useless information)

The land of Bling

This is part of the duty free area in the departures hall at Dubai. The one place in the world where you can buy anything your heart desires (even a Rolls Royce) at prices that truly are cheaper than anywhere else...

Holidays

Leaving at sparrow fart on Thursday morning - I think I need this holiday. The pic is of St Lucia (not the Caribbean island), where my parents live. It's a village with a nature reserve - at least one or two visitors get eaten by crocs every year, and there's a hippo that comes for a swim in the pool a couple of times a week.

I may post, I may not - but catch up with you all when I get back.

Self portrait

Manchester

I'm in Manchester in the UK this week. What a change after the 48 degree heat of the Middle East. The UK has just had the highest rainfall since records were kept. It's freezing cold, pissing with rain and the wind is howling. A normal summer day here in the UK i gather.

I've never been in this part of the UK. Manchester is a very industrial city. It played a huge part in the Industrial Revolution in the 1800's. Parts of the city are very run dowm, grimy, and definitely not somewhere to walk alone late at night. but there is a revival. The old factories along the canals, long empty, are being refurbished and sold off as upmarket lofts and apartments. It's an expensive place - a two bedroom apartment (average place) goes for $700,000.

The UK has a sense of history i do not find in the US or Dubai. The pic I took of one of the old railway bridges. The bridge is over 200 years old, and still in us every day. The house? The local guy i was with thought 250 to 400 years. His own house is over 600 years old. and still standing.

Tired

Fuckit, I never get sick. The last time I was sick was about 8 years ago, and that was malaria. There’s a flu doing the rounds here, and it’s really kak being sick when it’s 45 degrees outside. And on top of all that half of my snr managers are on leave so I couldn’t afford to lie in bed and feel sorry for myself. This time of the year is known as the lemming run – all the expats go home to escape the heat. Traditionally the men go home for a month, but the wives stay in the holiday homes for the whole of the summer. I’m going for 3 weeks, and so is the rest of the family. Imagine just how much a mom and two kids can spend if left alone at the waterfront in CT – for three months! Hehe, almost forgot, I’m going to the UK next week on business. But it’s visiting a mining exhibition, so it’s not exactly hard work. So my holiday is a bit longer than theirs… :

This reminds me of me

She came to me one morning
One lonely sunday morning
Her long hair flowing
In the midwinter wind
I know not how she found me
For in darkness I was walking
And destruction lay around me
From a fight I could not win
Ah ah ah ...

She asked me name my foe then
I said the need within some men
To fight and kill their brothers
Without thought of love or god
And I begged her give me horses
To trample down my enemies
So eager was my passion
To devour this waste of life
Ah ah ah ...

But she wouldnt think of battle that
Reduces men to animals
So easy to begin
And yet impossible to end
For shes the mother of our men
Who counselled me so wisely then
I feared to walk alone again
And asked if she would stay
Ah ah ah ...

Oh lady lend your hand outright
And let me rest here at your side
Have faith and trust
In peace she said
And filled my heart with life
There is no strength in numbers
Have no such misconception
But when you need me
Be assured I wont be far away
Ah ah ah ...

Thus having spoke she turned away
And though I found no words to say
I stood and watched until I saw
Her black coat disappear
My labour is no easier
But now I know Im not alone
I find new heart each time
I think upon that windy day
And if one day she comes to you
Drink deeply from her words so wise
Take courage from her
As your prize
And say hello from me
Ah ah ah ...

Orgasms in public

This hypnotists lets people have an orgasm on stage - just by touching their hand. There are a number of similar clips available online. I was wondering, would you let yourself be hypnotised if you knew this was going to happen?

Getting directions..

Giving someone directions here is somewhat different. Firstly, except for the major highways, streets are not named. In fact, most suburban areas are a warren of small dusty alleys, often barely wide enough for a car to pass through. Properties all have high walls surrounding them, not for security, but for privacy. Maps are useless, news roads appear every month, and no-one has ever mapped the older parts of town.

“What to do?” as the locals say. You navigate by landmarks – buildings, shops, mosques – and roundabouts (traffic circles). Roundabouts usually have some form of decoration in the middle. Close to my home there’s the blue mosque roundabout (a mosque with a bright blue dome next to the circle), lantern roundabout, coffee roundabout (a huge coffee urn), and clock tower roundabout. In the old town you get pearl roundabout (two monstrous oyster fountains with revolving marble pearls inside them) and the dhow roundabout, which has a full-sized ship I the centre of the traffic circle.

So you navigate from landmark to landmark. Typical instructions would go like this. “Turn right at the coffee pot, turn left at the lantern roundabout, then you go a while until you see some shops on the right, Make a u-turn there, go about 200 metres and then there’s a small road next to a car shop I think its called Grand garage. Go down this road and we’re opposite the graveyard. Call me when you get there and I’ll come look for you.”

This all sounds reasonable, albeit a bit long winded. But you have to know that the mosque at the blue mosque roundabout is no longer blue, and as for Mercedes roundabout? Well that’s highway now and both the roundabout and the Mercedes dealership were moved three years ago….

The pic is of the lantern roundabout near my home. That where you turn right until you get to Istanbul, and you turn right again. We’re opposite the date plantation and the old fort…

What do you do when you've been to the moon?

It’s almost 40 years since Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon. I remember listening to it all, my head glued to the radio for days on end. South Africa didn't have TV back then. And then the photo’s, grainy black and white photos of the footprints left in the sand. The photo’s of the earth rising above the moon.

I was wondering, what do you do when you’ve been to the moon? Do you stare at the moon when the moon is full? Do you close the curtains and hide under the blankets, wait for the sun to come up again?

What do you do when you’ve done what nobody else has done. When you’ve joined that select and exclusive club of people that have done something that no-one else has?

What do you do for the rest of your life when you’ve been to the moon? Sell toothpaste?

When we're grown up

Once upon a time, there was a tavern
Where we used to raise a glass or two
Remember how we laughed away the hours,
Think of all the great things we would do

Those were the days, my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we'd choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way

A recent blog by a guy called BlackMacro got me thinking – remember those nights when you were young, talking about what you were going to do, where you were going to go? We were going to conquer the world, retire rich…the superman syndrome. What if those days were the best days of your life? Scary thought.

Sailing the trade winds

A dhows are traditional Arab sailing vessels. They usually have one or two lateen sails. They are used along the coasts of the Arabian Peninsula, India, and East Africa. A larger dhows of up to 500 tonnes can have crews of up to 30. The smaller fishing dhows have about12 crew.

Dhows are mostly motorized these days, but some of them still trade between Duabi, Muscat and Yemen all the way to Dar es Salaam and Zanzibar, almost 4,000 km away. They’ve been using the seasonal monsoon winds for almost a thousand years, traditionally trading dates and carpets from te middle east with spices, mangrove trunks and slaves from Africa. These days the cargo is more mundane – plastic buckets, toys from china, electronics from Korea.

But that does not explain how beautiful they are. The first time I saw a dhow was on Lake Victoria, late in the afternoon. Two dhows came past the ferry I was on, their sails raggedy patches of bed sheets, laden with fruit and people to within 6 inches of sinking. But they were so beautiful. I still take photos of them whenever I can.

Hurrican Gonu

Another Rhino Story

This is also a true Rhino story. In the mid 90’s I was doing exploration in Kenya. We had a joint venture with a bunch of slimeballs from Europe. Their “man on the ground” was a Kenyan guy, a city slicker with not too many bush skills. He pretended a lot though.

We set him up in a camp in the Tsavo National park (the same one where a lion ate over a hundred labourers building the Mombasa-Nairobi railway at the turn of the century). He had a couple of tents, some labourers, a cook boy, a clothes washer, etc etc. Camping is done in a colonial style in East Africa. Tents are not the lightweight, synthetic tents we use for weekends away. These are proper tarpaulin tents, with beds and furniture inside. Each one weighs twice as much as a fat person and takes at least 8 people to erect. A typical tent would probably be at least 4m by 5m in size. His brief was to investigate mineralized zones in the park, and when I came down from Nairobi, he’d show me the most promising…

He was sitting in his tent (found out later that was about all he did), waiting for me to arrive, when this rhino wandered through the camp. The rest of the camp scattered, but he didn’t realize what had happened. The next moment the rhino stuck his head into the tent. Both of them got a hell of a fright. He screamed and dived under the back wall of the tent and ran for the bushes. The rhino charged, and suddenly found himself totally covered by a safari tent. I arrived there about 40 minutes later to witness a large, cream-coloured safari tent charging all over the camp sight, breaking everything in its path. The Rhino finally managed to extricate himself, trampled the tent a few times to make sure it was dead, and sauntered off into the bush.

Leonard Cohen

Some music for you..

Desert Rhino

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Chaos theory

I've been fascinated with chaos theory, and consequently fractals, for many years. Originally I used them in a scientific way to predict the way way gold orebodies are mineralised. But the more I read, the more it seems our lives are fractals, and chaos theory is what happens to us. As you probably know - the most common description of chaos theory is that the flap of a butterfy's wings in perus can cause a tornado in Texas. The smallest decision on our part can change our lives. Or someone else's. This pic I took off the back of a tarot card. It's called the devil..

When i grow up

When I was a kid, I wanted to live in a lighthouse. I wanted to read all day, watch the ocean storms, and just be by myself. Some days I still feel that way.

Closing time

Ah we're lonely, we're romantic
and the cider's laced with acid
and the Holy Spirit's crying, "Where's the beef?"
And the moon is swimming naked
and the summer night is fragrant
with a mighty expectation of relief
So we struggle and we stagger
down the snakes and up the ladder
to the tower where the blessed hours chime
and I swear it happened just like this:
a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
the Gates of Love they budged an inch
I can't say much has happened since
but CLOSING TIME

This is my home..

We live in a complex with 25 villas. I don't usually go for complexes becuase of the"desperate housewives" syndrome that comes with living in places like this. But we're very happy here. We don't want to move. Scatterlings has performed miracles with the garden and made it home.

In December the rent increased by 50%. This December we've been told that the rent will increase by 50% again. They say it's supply and demand - there is a huge boom, and housing is in short demand. Many people now commute to Dubai every day, a two hour trip. But I think there's a bit of greed in there too.

The complex is owned by the royal family. They have relatives that want to live here. So 4 families have been given notice of eviction. Bugger off please. I gather they are going to all the houses, taking photos of the gardens. The best gardeners get evicted. We've been left alone. So far, in spite of our garden. I don't have any influence (it's called wasta here) with the ruling family - but my daughter has. She often spends her weekends at the palace. Maybe I should start being nice to her....

I do NOT have a sunglass fetish

There are very good reasons why i bought these sunglasses at the time...

Staring from the top (not in order of purchase)..

1. The first pair I bought when I lived in Cape Town. Great for tte coffee shops, stylish, good for clear winter days. Absolutely useless for the harsh desert light.

2. So the first pair was crap in summer sun. So I need something for Clifton beach in the summer. They work well. But also crap in the desert sun - the brightness leaks in on the sides.

3. I originally bought these killer loops when I had the lenses replaced on another pair of sunglasses. It took 3 weeks to replace the lenses and I cannot survive without anything at all.

4. My Wiley-X glasses i bought for desert sandstorms. Work well, but you sweat so much behind them that they fog up. Don't use them much.

5. My oakleys - with reflective polarizing lenses. Perfect for harsh sun. And I've has them for about 6 years.

See? I do not have a fetish.