the scribbles of a completely sane woman

Anchor

2020-11-16T15:32:00.001+02:00

I’ve not written in a while, because, well, you know…

But recently, I’ve been having so many thoughts. About you. About us. About our past. About the things that tie us together. And the things that drive us apart.

I remember as a young person with thoughts, wishing on every wishing stone that you would disappear. Not die, as such, but just cease to exist. You caused us so much pain.

As a child, things were different. You were different. The lines on your face shallower, the bark in your voice not quite there. The sting of your hand reached our bare behinds on occasion, but it was justified, you know. Well, of course you know, you were the dispenser of justice. Dad almighty.

But then the drink started getting into your head, into your eyes, into your voice, into your heart. Your hands were too shaky to lash out – thank fuck – but the words had knives sharper than the winter’s frost. And you broke us.

And then you broke our mother.

And then you broke yourself.

It had been years since we last spoke when you introduced us to the new woman in your life. We didn’t ask, but we knew where she came from. We heard the tales, we saw the evidence in our dwindling coffers.

I really don’t want to hate you, especially now that are frail and old. But some pain does not disappear. And maybe, the wishing stones have finally listened. And I am not sure I can ever forgive you for our mother. I still sometimes have flashes of your white knuckled hands around her throat, her face no more than a squelch of flesh and bone held together by blood-covered skin

There is a reason why the word for mother and the word for anchor is so similar in our tongue. She was all that kept us together. She was our reason for, well, everything.

Since that last night, when we found her body and you fled into the night, we have been untethered, floating above anything you could ever offer.

But it is over now. For you, at least. By the time this reaches you, you will be a shadow of a man, listening to these words of mine from the mouth of your whore.

As for me, I will find a new anchor, knowing that you are gone and can never again break me, or my little family.

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I am not participating in NaNoWriMo this year, but will be trying a short writing every day, following the prompts from https://www.patreon.com/thequietsun

Secret

2020-11-06T01:06:00.001+02:00

Can you keep a secret? No, really, can you?

I need to tell someone, and you have such a warm lovely face. A trustworthy face.

So, will you keep my secret?

It happened a long time ago. I was just a bright young thing, naïve, maybe a little stupid. Eager. oh god, was I so eager. That’s probably why it happened. I was too eager.

And fuck me, so stupid.

Anyway. I had recently left my parent’s home for the big wide world for the first time. Look, don’t get me wrong, I didn’t lead a sheltered life, but the first time I lived by myself, I really embraced everything the world could offer. Different lovers every night, sometimes two at a time. I indulged in anything I could lay my hands on. You know, I think I was subconsciously trying to give each of the seven sins a taste.

And so it happened. I met these two lovely things at the market while pouring a gallon of mead down my throat.They wrapped their arms around me and danced me out of the village center and out into the woods. We want to play a game, they whispered and sang, spinning me around every few steps as we danced deeper and deeper into the dark wood. I was still chugging back the mead, staggering along with their dance, laughing like a fucking fool. We stopped in a clearing, the moon full above us hitting me in the eye as I drop down, laughing, onto the soft damp grass, causing me to flair my arm over my eyes, nearly hitting myself on the head with the mead jug. They lay down next to me, their heads lightly touching mine, so close I can smell the flowers from their shampoo.

Let’s play now, their voices drifted through the mead-induced haze.

“You sound so funny!,” I laughed. “Let’s rather find some mushrooms and visit the faeries,” I laughed.

No, we are going to play now.

They pulled me forcefully to my feet so quickly I felt dizzy. They dance me backwards to a fallen log and sit me down, pulling the jug from my hand and pulling my hands away from my body. A sudden sharp pain shot up both arms.

What the fuck man, I shouted, suddenly sober. They each have a long sharp nail dug into a wrist each, blood dripping down, leaving dark smudges on the ground. I try and pull my arms back, but they are much stronger than me.

Let me go, I struggle and shake, until I managed to free one arm, the creature, no longer so lovely, spins backwards and hits their head on the tree behind them. I lash out at the other, the thing clinging on hisses at me, lets go suddenly and disappears. The other thing is stuck passively to the tree.

I picked up the jug, took a swig, and then staggered over to investigate.

Fuck me, I must have been really drunk, I think looking at the thing in front of me. It was pale, long golden hair that glows in the moonlight, fine features, small sharp teeth visible between the slightly parted lips. There is a dark streak of blood running down the side of their face, and their beathing is ragged.

Fuck you, I screamed into its face, and then paced around a bit, repeating this a few times, until, suddenly, it opened its eyes.

I freaked out, man. This thing was fucking scary. And, my instinct was to fight, so I swiped at its head with the mead jug, and hit out again and again, landing blow after blow on its skull until it was no longer head shaped.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

I shook the mead jug, hoping for a bit more liquid courage.

I dragged the body back to the tree stump, and shoved it into the open side. I wished I had a knife, or an axe, or something.

But I shoved that motherfucker in as deep as I could, and stuffed leaves into every open space around it, making sure it is hidden.

I staggered back to the village and into my little cottage. I must have washed every inch of my body several times before I fell into a deep sleep.

It felt like minutes later when I woke up with a start, sat up, and saw them, both of them, standing at the foot end of my bed. I was paralysed. They smiled faintly, looking ever so much like the lovely creatures I met at the market, whispered We’ll play again one day, and disappeared.

I did go back to the woods, a few weeks later, and there was no sign that anything happened, other than these two scars on my arms.

So, can you keep a secret? And do you want to play a game?

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I am not participating in NaNoWriMo this year, but will be trying a short writing every day, following the prompts from https://www.patreon.com/thequietsun

Garden

2020-11-05T00:16:00.000+02:00

I lie on my back, sun streaming through the cuts in the big leaves. A lizard is baking in the sun on the rocks next to my head, my cat stretched out next to me softly purring in her sleep. A dragonfly flits between the leaves, and over the water to my left. I can hear my grandmother in the shed beyond my feet. I stretch my toes, pretending I can touch the wall of the shed with the tips.

A large cloud, shaped like the big bearded man, drifts slowly across the sky casting long shadows as it moves across the sun. The air is thick with jasmine and honeysuckle, and it feels greasy, like there is a storm brewing. The low rumble of thunder in the distance confirms this. My eyes are heavy, and the warm sunshine is luring me into an afternoon nap.

“Ani!” my grandmother’s voice is loud and sudden, pulling out of my daze.

“Ani!” she calls again, more urgently now.

“I’m here, nana, “ I croak, shake my head and push myself up quickly, the sudden movement startling the cat. I dust off my tunic quickly and run to the shed. “I’m here,” I say, peeking into the shed around the door.

Nana has a squirming plant in each hand, and pot shards and soil on the floor at her feet. “These guys woke up too quickly and kicked over their pots. Won’t you be a dear, and grab me two of those” she nudges her head towards the self next to her. I nod, run over, and carefully grab a pot, put it down on the table and grab another.

Nana puts the two shivering plants into the pots, and wraps the blanket on the table around the pots.

She wipes the hair out of her face with the back of her hand, leaving a brown smudge just above her right eye.

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I am not participating in NaNoWriMo this year, but will be trying a short writing every day, following the prompts from https://www.patreon.com/thequietsun

Squid

2020-11-03T11:29:00.001+02:00

Waving not drowning
they say of me
as the dark rises from below
and wraps its long arms around me.
Tighter now
until I can’t breathe
Around my neck
around my thoughts
around my soul
pulling me under
into the inky-black pool
I cannot see
I cannot breathe
Drowning not waving
my last thought fades.

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I am not participating in NaNoWriMo this year, but will be trying a short writing every day, following the prompts from https://www.patreon.com/thequietsun

Balance

2020-11-02T18:29:00.001+02:00

I reach up high, all my weight on the tips of my toes, fingers feeling furtively for the ever elusive object hiding at the back of the shelf. I stretch up up up, fingertips brushing the cold metal surface, finally pinching it between two fingers, gripping as tight as i can before it slips away again, and drop down flat on my feet, pulling the shiny object close to my chest.

I grip it tight as I tip toe out of the room, carefully retracing my steps to avoid the trigger points on the floor and walls. I pause quickly when the door slides closed behind me to catch up my breath, pulling it even closer to my chest. I can feel it humming, vibrating through my chest bone. I dance across the cold flagstones down the narrow corridor, and slip out the open door at the end.

I pull my hands away from my chest to catch a quick glimpse. All I can see is my smiling distorted reflection in the smooth silver surface. Grip it tight again, step away from the building and unfurl my wings and fly straight up over the rooftop and mountains beyond.

It is done, I tell her quietly when I land on the narrow ledge outside her window. It is done.

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I am not participating in NaNoWriMo this year, but will be trying a short writing every day, following the prompts from https://www.patreon.com/thequietsun

Nightmare

2020-11-01T15:41:00.001+02:00

I was six when they came, long fingers and stringy hair, voices like whispers on the wind. We could feel their empty eyes follow us at night walking home through the village, and slowly, all the people who lived in the village before turned, changed or went away, until it was just me and my mom left. Even now, I can hear them whisper, whisper, whisper behind the walls and windows pulled shut. It is not long now until we are gone too.

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I am not participating in NaNoWriMo this year, but will be trying a short writing every day, following the prompts from https://www.patreon.com/thequietsun

interiore comici

2018-01-04T12:08:00.001+02:00

I recently binge-watched The Marvelous Mrs Maisel, and for a brief moment imagined I could also be a stand-up comic. In my head, certainly, I am as funny as she is, and I have these stream of consciousness internal dialogues. But, unlike her, I have zero connection between my inner comic and my mouth. I am thinking that maybe the link between my fingers and comic may be better, so let’s see how that goes.

Of course, my life is too happy and stable at the moment to have much to talk about, but maybe it is also just that I have conditioned myself to simply not say anything? We often do that, we silence ourselves to save ourselves the embarrassment of not being understood. But is that not where the best comedic moments reside, in that moment of confusion where misunderstandings blossom and bloom.

But a happy life is also a muse killer. It is hard to find anguish and angst in a happy life. And it is hard to be funny when there is no angst – after all, the main reason one finds humour is for it to be the antidote to the shittiness surrounding oneself.

Clearly my inner comic does not like to come out at all. Things that have me rolling on the floor of the inner seedy bar just rolls out clumsily through my fingers as it does with my mouth. We will try again. Maybe it is like any muscle, it needs to be pushed and pulled to get into a good shape.

First step to freedom

2015-01-31T22:25:00.001+02:00

It was not long after my 20th birthday that I abruptly left home.

I had a very turbulent relationship with my parents throughout my teens, and spent the previous year staying with mostly my then-boyfriend’s parents, and here and there with other friends. My parents and I reconciled briefly around October, and I was allowed to return home, but early in the new year, not long after my birthday, things erupted again. I can’t even remember the details, really, other than the fact that I called my mother a bitch, or something like that. Actually, it was because I was fiercely independent and highly rebellious.

Needless to say, I was told to leave again.

This time, I decided, I was going to do my own thing. I had pretty much decided, before the previous semester ended, that I was not returning to Uni (and skipped writing some of my exams as a result of this decision) and when I was told to leave again, I was not going to, embarrassingly, stay with the now-ex-boyfriends parents again.

My father had arranged a summer holiday job for me at the mines, which paid pretty well, and my last pay cheque was due. The morning after I was asked to leave, I feigned illness and waited for my family to go to work and school. I packed up all my important belongings (all my music and a couple of pieces of my favourite clothing), scrounged some money from around the house and walked out of my parents house for the last time.

I got to the bottom of our driveway and started walking towards the train station with meaning. I knew it was a good three to four kilometres away, but it was fine. I was wearing my docs and I was leaving home for good.

Our elderly neighbour happened to drive by. She stopped and offered me a lift, obviously believing I was off to visit a friend. No-one would run away from home with so little, right? Kind old lady, she took me all the way to the station.

I bought a train ticket and went all the way to the east rand, where I phoned my boyfriend at the time and told him to come fetch me.

I stayed with him and his mother for two days to clear my head, but knew it wouldn’t last. And anyway, I wanted to make my own rules, so I took up sleeping on a friend’s couch for another couple of days while I figured things out.

The Harry Potter Studio Tour experience

2013-11-24T07:08:00.001+02:00

If, like me, you enjoy visiting the world of Harry Potter, either in the movies or the books, and you find yourself with an evening to kill in the UK, I highly recommend you plan this evening to kill a little in advance and get yourself some tickets to the Harry Potter Studio Tour experience. And I really do mean plan a little in advance, as the tickets do seem to sell out quite quickly in advance, depending on the time of the year. A general admission ticket is, at the time of writing, £29 for an adult and £21.50 for a child, but I would really suggest spending a little bit extra (£38.95 for an adult or £31.45 for a child) to get the full package that includes a souvenir guide and a digital guide too. We were lucky enough to be driven to the park, but there are public transport options.

The thing to remember is that this is not an amusement park, but a studio tour. It is a tour of the actual studios where (most of) the films were shot. And I think this is amazing. You walk through spaces where the actors walked, and can easily recognise your favourite (and not so favourite) scenes, props, etc. I took a LOT of photos during our extended tour, these are a couple of my favourites in no particular order.

The tour takes anywhere between 2 and 4 hours, depending on how long you spend looking at things. I could easily have spent an extra couple of hours inside, as there are a couple of exhibitions I feel I may have just glanced over, since I did not take at least 100 pictures from each angle. But then, as a fan, I think no amount of time is enough.

And then, of course, the tour ends in the gift shop, so make sure you take many many many pounds with you as you can buy anything from small fridge magnets to wands and capes, and you really do also want to sample the Butterbeer.

Excellent tour, excellent day out.

Wincanton and the Discworld Emporium

2013-11-22T16:46:00.000+02:00

I started reading Terry Pratchet’s Discworld series of books when I was 17, which was a very, very long time ago indeed. And you can say I am something of a fan of his work, so, when I discovered the existence of the Discworld Emporium, I knew I had to make a small journey, you may even almost call it a pilgrimage, to the town of Wincanton in southern Somerset in England.

Wincanton is a little bit of a challenge to get to using only public transport, but not completely impossible, and well worth the effort too. You can take the train through to Templecombe from London Waterloo, and then from there hope to strike it lucky and find a cab to take you the rest of the way, which is between £12 and £15.

Of course, once we got there, I fell in love with the small town charm and the English country side. And did I mention the Discworld Emporium?

The Discworld books, and the other Pterry works, have formed a large part of my life for a very, very long time, and much of how I see the world is either influenced by the books or reflected in the books. So, going to the town of Wincanton and the Discworld emporium was, for me, a little bit like going to holy ground, a sacred space of sorts.

Despite having been a little bit of a Discworld fan for the better part of 30 years, I haven’t really done the typical fan thing and reached out to other fans, either on the internet or the outernet, nor have I been to conventions or meetups or the like. So meeting the lovely folk at the DE was both overwhelmingly intimidating and a little bit like meeting old friends for the first time. If you are lucky, like I was, to visit on a quiet day, you can spend hours chatting and laughing, mostly laughing. If you are a fan, be sure to take LOTS and LOTS of money, because you will want everything. I spent a good three hours absolutely mesmerised by every nook and cranny of the store, while my patient husband photographed everything – because I was simply too spellbound to take a single photograph.

And I got a very special shopping bag. You may say it is one of a kind, really.

If you’re a fan, there is no way you can visit the UK without visiting Wincanton.

After our extensive visit to the Discworld Emporium, we walked around the Parish Church of St Peter and St Paul. Yes, we do have a thing for churches and the like, don’t we?

We just walked around the outside, really not wanting to intrude, but found some of the old gravestones really interesting.

The date on this one reads 1826.

And on this one, it looks like 1865.

And, of course, no visit to anywhere beautiful would be complete without the obligatory picture of a doorway. I am particularly fond of this doorway.

A Day in Windsor

2013-11-16T11:11:00.001+02:00

As we are both big Lego fans, we decided to try and include a visit to a Legoland as part of each of our travels. So, when we visited the UK, we had to include a trip to Legoland Windsor.

Our journey to Windsor started at Paddington Station, where we took the train to Windsor and Eton station via Slough. From there, bus shuttles run every 20 or so minutes – you can check the scheduling and pricing on their website.

The resort is beautiful and looks out over the Windsor valley, with the Castle in the distance.

My favourite store was the Lego Star Wars store, located right at the beginning of the journey through the resort. Be sure to walk through the whole exhibition for a wonderful experience.

A walk through the resort takes you on a meandering pathway through various worlds, from Vikings to Egypt and beyond.

The other big attraction at Legoland is the mini land, with presentations of various famous landmarks and cities. Many of the presentations also include some animations, so be sure to press every button and keep a close eye on each item in the presentation.

If you have some spare time after visiting Legoland, be sure to visit Windsor itself and Windsor castle too.

We visited the parish church while walking around, which dates from 1822. The church has some beautiful stained glass windows, and many tributes to lost loved ones.

Windsor Castle is the official residence of the Queen and the largest occupied castle in the world. If you can spare around £20 per person, you can take a leisurely tour of the castle and gardens. We happened to, coincidentally, visit Windsor Castle the day that prince George was born and there was much excitement in the air.

The castle and gardens are beautiful. We also wandered through the state rooms, but were not allowed to take photographs inside, which is really a pity, and the amount of history crammed into each nook and cranny of these well, stately rooms was overwhelming. It was also near neigh impossible to take photos without tourists in the way, but here are some of my favourites.

Ightam Mote

2013-11-02T07:39:00.001+02:00

Out first visit while in the UK was to Ightam Mote (Ightam thymes with might-am), which is a lovely 14th century moated manor house with a gorgeous garden. You can explore both the house and the garden, with some lovely guides stationed at strategic places to answer all your questions.

Here are some of my favourite photos from the day

If you find yourself in the Kent countryside and would like to explore some history or just want a quiet day in the countryside, I highly recommend a visit.

Impressions of London

2013-09-10T17:09:00.000+02:00

…when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life…
~ Samuel Johnson

London is a big city. Probably one of the biggest I have ever visited. And yet, it felt very familiar. It felt, at times, (and I may be shot for this) very much like being in South Africa, just with more old and pretty buildings. I think part of the familiarity is the language and the diversity of the people, but probably also has to do with the lingering influences of the British empire in South Africa.

While we spent just over a week in the United Kingdom, we really only visited London three times in that time and so, I am sure, we only saw a fraction of what there is to see. Here are some of the highlights from our visit:

Tate Modern

The Tate Modern is a really, really, really big art gallery. And, unless you want to see the special exhibitions, entry is free. Even if you’re not a big art connoisseur, there will be something here for you to see. It was fantastic seeing everything from Klimpt to Goya to my favourites, Dali and Van Gogh, live in person, so to speak. The store is also well worth checking out, but make sure you have some cash to spend. While most things are relatively inexpensive, you may want to buy the whole store, especially if you have a fondness for stationery and art supplies.

The Borough Market

This is one of the biggest food markets I have ever visited, and was quite impressed with the range of foods offered. There are also some lovely vegetarian and vegan stands. I really enjoyed the bunless vegan burger I had for breakfast.

The Rose theatre

In our quest to find the original Globe theatre, we discovered the Rose theatre, which was where a young Shakespeare started out. It was truly a wonderful find, as the Rose is such an important historical landmark, and there are some great things happening here to preserve a bit of history.

Give yourself at least two hours for this visit, as there is a wonderful video to watch, and then a fantastic talk by a very passionate employee (whose name I unfortunately missed) about the history of the Rose and what is happening now with the conservation project.

Be sure to have some £££ available to spend in the giftshop. There are some great items for sale, and all the proceeds go to saving the Rose.

The Thames canal cruise

We always try and make use of one of the hop-on-hop-off busses when we visit a new city, and our visit to London was no different. We pre-bought the tickets online using the Original London Sightseeing tour, which also included a free Thames Canal Cruise. As always, the bus tour did not disappoint, giving us access to sights in London we may not have seen otherwise, but the highlight was definitely the canal tour. Our impromptu tour guide, in the form of one of the ship's mates, was absolutely fantastic, and gave one a very different view of the buildings along the Thames, including a lovely view of Traitors Gate.

London Walking Tour

On our last day in London, we took a lovely walking tour from Trafalgar Square to St Pauls Cathedral. The tour guide was bloody brilliant, and his knowledge of London and its quirky side alleys and things was massively impressive. The tour was booked by my lovely bestie Mandy, and I unfortunately lost all the other details, but it is well worth the sore feet at the end of the day.

While London is a fantastic city, I left with mixed feelings. There was so much to see, much more than I even touched on in this post, but in some ways it felt a little too much like home for me to fall in love with it. That said, I will definitely visit again.

On travelling – some thoughts and tips

2013-09-08T10:29:00.000+02:00

I think it is very important to travel outside of the world one knows, and to explore distant cities and cultures. Travelling helps greatly with gaining a greater understanding of the world, and it also assists greatly with reducing any prejudices one may have picked up along the way.

I always believed that travelling is reserved for the rich and famous, because it is generally thought of to be too expensive for the common man – especially if you live in a country with a weaker currency. When we finally started looking at the costs of travel a couple of years ago, we realised that it was well within our reach – especially if you plan the trip carefully and well in advance.

The biggest expense is typically the actual travel component – plane tickets, train tickets and so on – but there are ways to reduce this cost too.

Flying from South Africa to Europe can cost you anything from about R6000 to R15000 per person, depending on your destination, and the airline you choose. Most airways have regular special offers, so you just need to keep an eye on the specials, and use services like SkyScanner to get the best deal. Also do not accept that you have to fly at full cost to your final destination.

As an example, if your holiday is to start in, say, Austria, you may find it cheaper to fly to Frankfurt, and then get a cheaper connecting flight from Frankfurt to Vienna using a low cost airline like Ryanair.

Many airlines also offer rewards programs with points for travel, which doesn't help you with the first couple of trips but starts paying off when you travel regularly.

It is also possible to traverse most European countries without needing to rent a car. The public transport systems are outstanding, and most cities/countries offer multipasses or similar. I am particularly fond of using Eurail for train tickets, as they offer great multiday travel passes with options to cover multiple countries. Using such a pass is also a great alternative to flying between cities, and allows you to see a bit more of the country you're travelling through than simply flying over.

In South Africa, hotel rooms are charged per person, while, in my experience, hotels in Europe and elsewhere are typically charged per room, so you often pay about half for a hotel room in Europe of what you would pay in SA. Again, many hotel booking sites, like Hotels.com, offer rewards programs with deals such as free nights for frequent use. Many South African hotels are also affiliated with these sites, so you can also book locally to rake up those rewards.

The last big expense is feeding yourself daily. While food can be relatively inexpensive, it is the exchange rate that kills us. What I do when I start planning a trip is to work out how many Euros (or Pounds or whatever) we will need for the trip and include that in the budget. I also overestimate the exchange rate (as it can fluctuate quite dramatically) and then put that rand value into the budget. While we're travelling, we will then draw cash in Euros, and we know we have x amount of Euros to spend. If you are happy to live on quick meals and take-out while you're travelling, you need to budget in the region of €50 per day for two people. You can typically pick up a nice filled roll and a cold drink for around €5, and a burger with chips from Burger King also goes for about €5, while a pizza slice will cost you in the region of €2.

Dining out at a restaurant can cost a little more, especially if your tastes are more delicate. At a reasonable family restaurant you can look at around €10 for a main meal, while more up market restaurants could charge up to €30 for a main meal. Also look if your hotel has a restaurant, as it may, in some cases, provide better value for money. But not always…

On our first trip to Europe, we visited a couple of cities in Germany first, and then ended off our holiday in Amsterdam. While in Germany, we made use of the in hotel restaurants a couple of times and found the food to be great while relatively inexpensive (€20 for two people, including a couple of beers). So, on our first night in Amsterdam we also visited the hotel restaurant and ordered without really paying attention to the prices, assuming they would be along the lines of what we experienced in Germany – big mistake. The portions were considerably smaller, for double the price, and that meal consisting of main course and desert for two people, as well as a beer for the husband and a coke for myself set us back €65.

And, of course, you want to make sure that you have enough money to spend on gifts and trinkets. This depends on what your budget can spare. Some things can be much cheaper in Europe than you would expect, and buying things isn't something you can really plan that much for, unless you go for a specific purpose, such as buying electronics. Each country has their own speciality, and you will want to bring home things that remind you of your trip – so be sure to leave yourself at least €200 to €400 for such items. And don't forget to leave space in your suit case for such things – we generally put an empty shoebox into each suitcase just for this purpose.

And lastly, be sure to schedule all your account payments, etc for while you are on holiday, because the last thing you want to do is worry if the bills at home were paid while you are ticking items off your bucket list.

Travels: UK and Germany 2013

2013-08-09T14:05:00.001+02:00

The husband and I recently returned from our annual holiday. This time, we visited the UK as well as Germany, our favourite country. We saw and did so much, that I think it warrants a couple of posts, so watch out for the following posts coming over the next couple of weeks and months:

Impressions of London
Ightam Moat
A day in Windsor
Wincanton and the Discworld Emporium
The Harry Potter Studio Tour experience
Echoes of the Roman Empire: Bath and Cologne
Wacken 2013

I will also be posting pictures over on my other blog from time to time.

Wacken Survival Guide

2013-05-04T14:26:00.001+02:00

Living in South Africa through the eighties and nineties, we never really got to experience the whole music festival thing, especially not alternative music. And then life happens, and we missed some of the bigger alternative bands coming to SA. So, in 2010, when we discovered that Apocalyptica was playing at the Wacken Open Air festival in Germany in 2011, we looked at our budget and decided to put on our brave shoes, and travel all the way to Europe for the first time in our lives to go ~~camp~~ rock out with 90-odd thousand other Metalheads. With less than a ~~100~~ 90 days to go to the biggest Metal music festival, I thought I would share some of the things I learnt last time round.

Like I said, this was our first European music festival experience, and this guide would probably be a little ‘doh’ for those of you up North who are born going to festivals. Forgive me, but I promise I will get better at this festival thing.

Tickets

If you don’t have a ticket yet, I am really, really sorry, because it means you will not get to go this year. Tickets go on sale not long after the end of the last festival, and they sell super quickly. Be sure to have your Euros ready late in August and grab your tickets.

Camping

The most popular option is to camp. The cost of your campsite is included in your ticket, and it can be a great deal of fun to camp. We met some very cool people in the camp sites, and there is always something going on.

The festival and camp grounds do get quite muddy, as it frequently rains during the festival, so if you are going to camp, make sure that your tent is watertight, and also big enough to accommodate you and all your things. And a SA flag may also help you identify your camp site at night stumbling back from the festival grounds.

If you are going to camp, invest in a WC (bathroom) pass – you will especially appreciate the shower this grants towards the end of the festival.

Other Options

While camping may be fun, there are also other options for accommodation. Metal Travel offers some hotel packages ranging from hostels to 4 star hotels. We booked one of these rooms for this year’s festival – if it all works out I will write about it.

Things you’ll need

Like I have mentioned, it rains a fair amount during the festival, and the festival and camp grounds can be very muddy. For this reason, I would suggest leaving the heels at home and maybe wearing wellingtons instead. A raincoat will also be handy.

While there are a couple of pay-and-charge points where you can get your phone and other devices charged, life may be a little easier if you take some extra batteries with.

Note: a solar charger may sound like a good idea, but there is just not enough sun for a full charge.

You want to take a camera with to capture not only the bands, but some other precious moments.

If you are planning on camping, you want to take some earplugs with you – especially if you plan on sleeping at night. The camp grounds are constantly busy.

And if you are camping, be sure to pack some collapsible water containers that you can fill on the first day and keep in your camp ground. This will be handy not only for drinking, but also for washing – especially if you haven’t invested in a WC card. Just make sure the containers are PET and not glass.

And remember the sunblock.

Well, obviously you are there for the music, right? See as many bands as you can, and make sure you check out some bands you don’t know yet.

Visit the Wackinger Village, and check out the craft market. And if you’re vegetarian, the Wackinger Village also has some vegetarian-friendly food stalls.

Check out some of the side-line performances.

Drink beer, and share beer, and laugh.

Visit the Wacken village itself. The supermarkets sell a wide variety of items that will help improve your experience, and you can even buy some postcards to send home.

Leave with your memories. Leave only your footprints behind.

And lastly…

Many people assume that Metalheads are all evil and stuff, you know, but they are actually just a bunch of people, just like you and me, who like to drink beer and listen to a bit of heavy music. If you want to enjoy the festival, you will want to avoid negative energies, bad vibes and generally bad attitudes. While there may be some unfriendly elements, for the most part the metal community is a friendly, fun-loving bunch.

Take enough money with, not just for beer and food, but also for music and other merchandise. The food and beer can be pricey, so work on a budget of at least €50 a day to be on the safe side, especially if you also want to try out the cherry and mead beers.

And if you are going this year… see you there

Cape Town

2013-04-07T12:45:00.001+02:00

We recently visited Cape Town for the first time. I’d been there once or twice for business, but it was always a case of fly in, do the work, fly out again, and the husband and I had both been there once as children, so long ago that the detail got lost in the annals of time.

We decided to approach the trip the same way we have our travels to Europe, to see how it would compare.

Getting around

To ensure the experience could be compared with our European travels, we decided to ditch our car and fly in. We also opted for not renting a vehicle, instead relying on public transport all the way.

The city has a fairly new rapid bus system, the MyCiti bus, which is a great and inexpensive way of getting around. You will need a MyCiti bus card, which you can pick up from any of the full platforms for R23, and a trip averages on R5.60. You need to ensure you load enough money on the card, however, to ensure you can travel without being fined. The bus route is fairly extensive though, and we managed to get all the way to Blouberg Strand and the V&A Waterfront without much effort.

The City Sightseeing bus (hop-on hop-off bus) is also now available in Cape Town, and, while a little more pricey than the MyCiti bus, it does take you places where the MyCiti bus doesn’t quite reach yet, like the wonderful Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens and Hout Bay. The City Sightseeing bus is R150 per person for a day ticket, but you can also buy a combo ticket that allows you to travel both the blue and the red route over two days, and this is only R250 per person. This is well worth it, as it also includes a canal cruise, and allows you to explore more of the city.

We’re big fans of these red busses, and have used them in a couple of different European cities, and it is always a very pleasant experience. The blue route is my favourite, as it extends to the outer city and goes past some of my favourite sights.

Things to do

Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens

Even if you’re not a big outdoors kind of person, this beautiful garden is a must visit. Founded in 1913 to preserve our unique flora, the gardens typically only contain indigenous plants. The garden also hosts a concert every Sunday, and other events too, in the natural amphitheatre.

Remember to pack a picnic basket and spend the day at the foot of the majestic Table Mountain in the African sun.

Hout Bay

A lovely suburb of Cape Town on the ‘other’ side of the mountain, this is a must visit, especially if you are a seafood lover. The rustic restaurants on the harbour sell fresh fish and other seafood, and it is to die for. If you’re vegetarian (as I am), the chips are also lovely. And if you’re not into food, simply sitting on the harbour side watching the world go by is fabulous.

V&A Waterfront

No doubt the biggest touristy area of the City, the V&A Waterfront offer shopping and eating for all tastes and wallets. It is also built around a functional harbour, and there are many many cruise options available.

The City Sightseeing bus also departs from here, and there is also a bus stop for the MyCity bus.

The Two Oceans Aquarium

The Aquarium is always a wonderful day out, especially if you have younglings. The Two Oceans Aquarium is no different, and is very much set up for a family day out. Highly recommended.

The Castle of Good Hope

Built originally by the Dutch East India Trading Company, this is the oldest surviving colonial building in South Africa and the museum provides a lot of historical information. While not quite a castle by European standards – more a fort really – it remains a must visit, even if you’re not a history buff.

See Point/Camps Bay/Clifton

This is the playground of the rich and famous, so if you’re into celeb spotting, this is the place for you. This stretch of coast has the highest property values probably in all of Africa, but it is well worth a visit, even if you just grab some take-out and sit on the beach to enjoy the spectacular sunset.

Other considerations

Cape Town is a coastal city, and very much geared towards international tourists. For this reason, some of the prices may be a little inflated, and some attractions not always accessible to local visitors. As an example, to go up Table mountain via the cable carts is R220 per adult for a return ticket – which can be very pricey if you are a family of more than two people. Choose the attractions you would like to visit most, and allocate enough money for those attractions. If you try and take in all the sights in one visit, you may find yourself broke and disappointed.

As I said, it is a coastal city, and the weather can be very unpredictable. If the sun is shining in the morning, still remember to take a jersey or pullover with you. I would also suggest a hat, especially if you are going to take one of the cruises or open-top busses. And always remember your sunscreen. And a small umbrella may just save your day.

Our thoughts

Cape Town is a wonderful city that works. It is not quite on par with our beloved German cities yet, but the views are spectacular enough to make you forget some of the things that don’t quite work so well yet. This is quite a sharp contrast from the other cities in South Africa, and gives us renewed hope for our country.

It is not a city without problems, but the city is aware of its issues and work hard at correcting them. This is no small feat, due to the severe inequalities left behind by Apartheid. As with all cities, there are areas that should not be visited after hours, but for the most part tourists can be safe in the city.

We will definitely visit again.

passim viator

2013-04-02T19:50:00.001+02:00

I was thinking of maybe doing something else here again, and randomly write about the places we have gone, and will go to. A travel journal of sorts, but really not a travel blog. I can only share our experiences. Let's see how this goes :)

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door," he used to say. "You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to. J.R.R. Tolkien

epistulam ad malum

2012-06-09T19:12:00.001+02:00

epistulam ad malum

donec vitae tuta

2012-01-29T07:20:00.001+02:00

“A ship is safe in harbor, but that's not what ships are for.”
― William G.T. Shedd

I think I have been playing it safe for far too long. It has been years since I did something wild, something that made my heart pound in my chest. Something that I may potentially have to apologize for.

Instead, I have been asking permission. Not just from the people around me, but from the universe as a whole. And when there is no response, I accept it as a decline, and do nothing.

Even last year, when I dragged the husband off to a music festival on another continent, it was safe. I planned it all upfront, made sure we had all the right equipment, and even packed emergency rations, for in case. I played it safe.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
― Mark Twain

My heart is yearning for adventure. Let’s commandeer a ship, it shouts, and sail the oceans till we find Tartarus. Let us chase the stars to the end of the rainbow. Let us swing from the rings of Saturn.

My head. My damned head. It keeps spoiling the fun. The conversation goes something like this:

Heart: Let’s go commandeer a ship
Head: Seriously? The closes harbour is 700km away. And besides, it is not like in Pirates of the Carribean. You can’t just walk up and commandeer a ship these days. It is a little more complicated than that.
Heart: Oh yeah? Just follow me, and I will show you. We can do this. And sail the oceans and-
Head: No, seriously. Sail? Ships use engines and fuel these days.
Heart: We’ll erect a mast (*giggle*) hoist a sail and off we go.
Head: And what about the family?

And so they’ll continue, until head eventually switches off body and forces heart to go sleep. And so, I spend more and more time sleeping now.

My heart is broken at the moment – a completely different story that I am sure I will eventually allow myself to think about – so head is winning the battle. But, even through the pain, every heart beat longs for adventure. Maybe it is because of the pain that the longing for adventure is even stronger at the moment.

“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!”
― Hunter S. Thompson

Luckily, there is another adventure planned for the near future. Maybe this time, I can not overthink it, and allow my heart to also wander and explore. Although, I am travelling with my husband and daughter, so head may just win again. Or maybe, just maybe, head will listen to me and allow heart to lead the way.

imo ego irascor

2012-01-10T15:19:00.001+02:00

I am angry. I think I was born angry, but that is beside the point. I am angry.

Angry with every single one of you who believes it is ok to steal oxygen and contribute duck all to the world. And every single one of you who believes it is ok to raise your hand to another living creature - human or otherwise - in anger. And those of you who believe it is perfectly alright to inflict pain on others - human or otherwise - for your own enjoyment.

I am angry at you, yes you, who breaks promises. And you, who talks nasty behind someone else's back. And you, who uses words like 'gay' as an insult.

And you, motherfucker, who thinks your kid is yours to do with as you please.

And you, who knows that this is happening and does nothing. You piss me off most of all.

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ossa terra vs terra sanguine

2011-08-13T19:01:00.001+02:00

I've spent the past couple of years like a pendulum between the questions 'Should we stay' and 'Should we go'. And I think it is something many South Africans have contemplated over the past couple of years. But this is the country of my bones, where I was made, and for this reason, more than any other, we have decided, over and over, to stick it out - even when it seems like our own government no longer wants us here.

But my husband and I spent the last couple of weeks in Europe, and our minds were made up. As much as South Africa is the country of my bones, Germany is the country of my blood, of my soul. I stepped off the plane, and I had this sudden feeling of coming home. And even though my spoken German is beyond rusty these days, the language simply did not create a barrier. But there was something else.

Suddenly we were surrounded by people who were happy, content, in their every day lives. No signs of the daily fear and paranoia we live with in SA, not a sign of the aggression that we take for granted. Instead, we saw people on all walks of life content with life, happy to do their jobs - it wasn't a favour to anyone around them - and snug in a society that runs on trust rather than fear.

And this was an eye opener. We realised that we had been living in fear, but we could not grasp the extent of the fear that gripped up until we were removed from it. And suddenly we were immersed into a society that felt comfortable riding their bicycles to go shopping - and leave the shopping in the basket of the bicycle when at each stop, rather than carrying it all with in fear of it being stolen - and could enjoy the infrastructure of the first world, where everything works, and is maintained, and works for the people, not just a select few.

My mother and I always use the analogy of crayfish when talking about the South African public. When you cook crayfish, you boil them alive slowly in a pot, slowly turning up the heat so they don't notice until it is too late. And that really is how the South African public is being treated. We keep telling ourselves everything will be ok, everything will turn out fine, it isn't really that bad here, and the rest of the world has problems too.

I honestly cannot think of another country where everything really is all right where 55 people are murdered every single day of the year. I no longer think it is normal to live in prisons, and be too afraid to go out after dark in your own neighbourhood. I no longer think it is acceptable to live in fear, to not know the neighbours, to believe that it is ok that our own government promotes racist behaviour towards specific groups of people. It really isn't ok.

So, it has been decided that my family and I will return to the land of my blood, leaving the land of my bones behind. And we will make some sacrifices initially, but we believe it will pay off long-term.

mendacia audimus

2011-07-24T09:59:00.001+02:00

"But better to be hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie."
— Khaled Hosseini

I don’t know about you, but I really hate being lied to. I cannot stand the thought of the truth being kept from me, and I would far rather be briefly upset by the truth than to be lied to and have the truth stolen from me. And once you have lied to me one lousy time, no matter how small the lie, I will probably never trust you again (but we can work on it).

But a politician that lies is unforgivable. Even if he doesn’t believe he is a politician. Yes, I am on the Malema wagon again. And you know what, I need to make it clear from the get go, I am not on this wagon for any reason other than the fact that I care for my country and its people, and do not like the direction in which Malema and his army of morons are trying to steer the country (and, unfortunately, appear to be succeeding).

South Africa is a country with great potential, but the potential is rapidly waning due to corruption and this concept that ~~everyone~~ the chosen elite is entitled to the wealth and resources of this country without having to work a day for it. Nothing comes from nothing. The citizens of this beautiful country work hard, pay their taxes and often get very little in return, as the politicians spend our money on ideas and blabber without delivery.

And Malema is the poster boy for ideas and blabber without delivery. And he is dangerous, even if no-one in government wants to admit it openly. But lets talk about his latest lies, as that is what started this conversation in the first place.

It was nobody's business where he got his money from - and his supporters did not mind his lavish lifestyle, ANC Youth League leader Julius Malema said on Wednesday

[source]

Apparently, it is perfectly acceptable to live a lavish life filled with sushi, designer suits, multi-million rand properties and luxury cars while fighting for the rights of the poor. Because someone who lives in a house with a room count higher than his own IQ can perfectly understand the plight of someone who shares a one bedroom makeshift shack with no running water or electricity with 5 other people. It is easy to make decisions on behalf of the poor and destitute over caviar and French champagne.

From the same article:

First he said the news report only existed in "the imaginations of right-wing, narrow-minded and obsessed white people"
Then he told a journalist who asked where he got his money from: "It's none of your business... you must mind your own business."
He was a private citizen and not accountable to the media, said the African National Congress Youth League leader.

Ok, so let’s get a couple of things clear here:

Not all white people are right-winged or narrow-minded. In fact, you may find the majority of us are actually quite nice people who like to believe that we are all equal.
No-one is accountable to the media, the media exists to serve public interest. This means that the news is reported to ensure tax payers are informed on what the government – who is also in place to serve public interest, just as an FYI – does with our money and our country.
The minute one becomes a politician, one is no longer a private citizen. If you decide to open your mouth in public, your business is no longer your own.

I think Mr Malema must decide if he wants a life in politics, or if he wants to be a private citizen. I know many many people will applaud (and do the happy dance) should he decide to return to the life of a private citizen so that the media can leave him alone, but somehow I cannot see that happening.

But the reason we keep hammering on Malema is because he keeps telling the big lies, and he very much resembles another very dangerous man from history.

His primary rules were: never allow the public to cool off; never admit a fault or wrong; never concede that there may be some good in your enemy; never leave room for alternatives; never accept blame; concentrate on one enemy at a time and blame him for everything that goes wrong; people will believe a big lie sooner than a little one; and if you repeat it frequently enough people will sooner or later believe it.

Sounds like Malema’s profile, but it is actually a description of Adolf Hitler’s profile. And there are many other similarities between Malema and Hitler’s methodologies. Like Malema declaring racism = murder, after making racist comments like ‘white people are criminals’ himself earlier this year.

The longer we allow Malema to spread hate, the further away we move from the ideals of Mandela, and the worse things will be in this country. And that is not the paranoid ramblings of a middle-class white chick, seriously, but rather the truth raised by anyone with half a brain. We need to stop allowing this moron to polarise the country, and rather return to the wonderful rainbow nation we (ever so briefly were) were not too long ago.

domare draconis

2011-07-16T22:20:00.001+02:00

"We are our own dragons as well as our own heroes, and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves." ~ Tom Robbins

I remember once, when I was a young girl, someone told me that in order to tame the dragon you have to name it. Only later did I realise that it did not refer to the scaled winged creatures of the other world, but our dragons, our demons, our monsters are the things that break us down, that make us weak, that bring out the abyss in our souls. The only way we can survive the challenges life throws our way is by taming our dragons, giving them a name and understanding exactly why they are what they are in the first place. To name the thing is to control the thing.

I am sounding terribly preachy. But I am not. I am taming a few dragons this week, and reminding myself why.

semper insomno, semper somniare

2011-07-15T13:12:00.001+02:00

July is Mental Health Awareness month. And, despite the title of this blog, I am actually not so sane. No, indeedy.

I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder just about 8 years ago now. And that was just the official diagnosis. I showed symptoms from as young as 9 years old.

Bipolar disorder is such a misunderstood condition. And, yes, I prefer calling it a condition than a disease. Because, really, it’s not all bad. Of course, I am not downplaying the havoc it causes – the extremely dark depressions leaving one paralysed in bed wishing for death, because, dear god, anything including death would be better than feeling like this, the raging manias filled with anger and paranoia and spending sprees that would make a rich heiress blush and let’s not forget the addictions, oh god, the need for excessive everything, and even on normal days you know you will never never be normal.

One must have chaos in one, to give birth to a dancing star. - FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE

But there is a good side to Bipolar too. The fantastic creativity, the super productivity, the ability to think outside the box, the touch of genius. And even if these moments are small points on the path of the pendulum, for me, they make the rest of the pendulum’s swing completely worthwhile – in retrospect, of course.

I'm so happy. Cause today I found my friends. They're in my head. I'm so ugly. But that's ok. 'Cause so are you. We've broke our mirrors. Sunday morning. Is everyday for all I care. And I'm not scared. Light my candles. In a daze cause I've found god. - Lyrics from "Lithium" by NIRVANA

But yes, Bipolar is a misunderstood condition. Normal people think that depression is being a little bit sad, really, something you should just snap out of. And there can certainly not be anything like being too happy.

"If I can't feel, if I can't move, if I can't think, and I can't care, then what conceivable point is there in living?"
— Kay Redfield Jamison

Depression at its mildest, to me, feels like the sun will never shine again, the birds will never sing again, and it will be a starless night forever. All joy has left the world, and I am just a pile of shit. As I spiral downwards, it feels like my bones are being filled with lead until eventually I can no longer move. Anything goes wrong in the world, and it MUST be my fault, because I am a useless piece of crap. Food has no taste, everything is grey and dull and limp, and there is simply no point in doing anything. When I was younger, I would cut myself with razor blades or the blades from pencil sharpeners, or prick my fingers with safety pins – simply to try and remember what it is like to feel. And eventually, you wonder what the point is, and you believe that the world would be a better place without you in it.

"You wake up one morning and there it is, sitting in an old plaid bathrobe in your kitchen, unpleasant and unshaved. You look at it, heart sinking. Madness is a rotten guest."
— Marya Hornbacher

Mania, at its mildest, means that I talk too much and too fast, and my thoughts fly by at 1000km an hour and I can work 20 hours a day non-stop, solving the problems of the western world while balancing the budget of the entire 3rd world, painting a picture with my right hand and writing a short story with my left hand. And then, because I am so fucking productive, I start believing that I am fucking awesome. Yes, the most awesome fucking human being ever – those around me should bow down as I walk past, because I am just so fucking brilliant. And then you stop sleeping. Colour and light become rich experiences, and man, who needs acid once you get to this point. But hell, acid would be awesome at this point, so why the hell not, right? And you just cannot get enough of good tastes and good sensations, so your partner better hold on, because man, you suddenly have the sex drive of a rabbit, and if you’re single, no red light district can provide enough satisfaction. And then there is the spending. No matter how in control you are normally, a mania will easily wipe out your life savings, your kid’s university fund, your retirement fund, and any other fund you may have access to. And often, you will spend money on crap.

"But money spent while manic doesn't fit into the Internal Revenue Service concept of medical expense or business loss. So after mania, when most depressed, you're given excellent reason to be even more so."
— Kay Redfield Jamison

But all this still sounds all right, doesn’t it? Of course, because I haven’t even started thinking about the dark side of the mania. The hallucinations that follow on from that little superiority complex can range from voices telling you to do things, to full visual hallucinations of angels or demons – like I said, who needs Acid, right? – and the funny thing with hallucinations is that they are so hard to identify for what they are – your brain creates these images, and believes them to be the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and no matter how much someone tells you that they are not true, your brain will always believe itself over others. And the less you sleep, the quicker the hallucinations start, and the less you end up sleeping.

"I thought I would inaugurate a Bipolar Pride Day. You know, with floats and parades and stuff! On the floats we would get the depressives, and they wouldn’t even have to leave their beds - we’d just roll their beds out of their houses, and they could continue staring off miserably into space. And then for the manics, we’d have the manic marching band, with manics laughing and talking and shopping and fucking and making bad judgment calls."
— Carrie Fisher

Bipolar disorder is not something you can just shake off, or work through, or explain away, or ignore. The worst thing to say to a Bipolar is just hang in there, or lighten up, or calm down, or I understand, I felt sad once. To be honest, there is no comparison between the sadness you felt when your dog died and the despair felt in the beginning of a depression, so don’t even try to compare the two.

Instead, you can say I am here for you or You are not alone. And always remember that bipolar people are people too, just like you, with kids, jobs, families, mortgages and all the other things that normal life brings.