Phuthu Stay Phut, Don't go!

My friend Shirley has been nagging me for months, “have you got your world cup tickets yet? nyagga yagga yagga” . I haven’t been sure about how I felt about FIFA and this whole thing up until a week before kick off. The world cup fever was contagious and it was the widespread show of flags and patriotism that made me decide that the World cup was good for the country, perhaps not financially but certainly in other intangible ways. The way in which it has made all South Africans feel proud and patriotic is a success in itself. For the past few weeks, we have been able to almost reach out and touch the energy in the air.

So, on Monday afternoon, Shirley unleashed another round of nagging on me, “are you going to the game tomorrow? Go to the fan park, go to the stadium, go to Florida road, nyagga yagga yagga” Just as she left and peace and quite returned (lots of love Shirl) I get an sms from my other mate Jess, “tickets for game tom, going fast”

“I’ll take them!” I said. First thing the next morning I went on the hunt for earplugs and earmuffs. (I planned to double up to make a vuvu-proof barrier).

We left nice and early, I packed up hungry bum (Lou) and she packed up baby Shewy (that’s our unborn baby called Cashew, shortened to Shewy). Jess, being the big larney that was in charge of building the stadium, chauffeured us to seeded VIP parking right next to the stadium. It has to be said that the stadium is a marvel of design, engineering and construction; it is truly one of the best stadiums in the world.  Sitting up in the stands looking out onto this impressive sight, Jess must have been very proud of what he and his team have achieved.

The stadium is breathtaking.

Jess at one of his site meetings.

What followed was a great new experience, the atmosphere was amazing. (So was the noise, we were very grateful for the double barrier ear protection.)

The noise was incredible, the vuvu is some thing of an anomaly, you’ve got to hate the racket it makes but you’ve also got to love the character it brings to a game.  I learnt how to blow one and I think there must be some sort of primal satisfaction in making such a noise. You can blow it till you are blue in the face without anyone looking at you funny!

I was clever enough to bring my own personal beer fetchers.

Lou said Shewy, now 22 weeks old, was kicking like mad, I’m sure he just wanted to get on the field and show those players how to really boot that Jabulani Ball!

The result didn’t matter, today I don’t even remember the score! All in all it was a great experience, thanks Jess and Co; our next mission is to visit a fan park!

By Jeremy

It was with shock and great sadness that I learnt about the death of Dusi legend, Graeme Pope-Ellis last week. My man phoned me to tell me the news and initially I thought “heart attack” but I was wrong. He was killed in a tractor accident on his farm whilst ploughing the fields – something he loved to do to relax apparently. He was 62 years old but more alive and more active than most people half his age. I saw him 2 weeks ago at the Dusi Mfula MTB race. They interviewed him at the finish and asked whether he had managed to scout any “sneaks” for the 2011 Dusi. But sadly, he won’t be here for next year’s Dusi – a race he’s won 15 times and raced consecutively for 46 years since he was 17.

Instead, it will be dedicated to him….

Sniff..snifff..…tissues…

…This whole weekend, I’ve just kept thinking of his wife, Wendy. Their relationship was one that most couples would admire or perhaps wish for. They did so much together and seemed so utterly content. We  raced alongside them on the Imana Wild Ride in 2008, which wasn’t an easy race I might add! We portaged up hills that the race organiser’s called “mothers” (for obvious reasons) and whilst Jeremy and I were gasping for air carrying our bikes up these mountains, we’d look back and see Graeme, or “the pope” as he was commonly known amongst friends, carrying not only his bike but Wendy’s too!

So although he was strong, he was gentle and softly spoken and although he was competitive he was incredibly humble.

He will be missed by us all and will be remembered for his love of the outdoors.

Our thoughts go out to Wendy and his family.

The evidence…Graeme carrying two bikes, whilst Wendy follows. A true gentlemen who didn’t let his age define his experiences, or him.

I let my man loose on Phuthu on Monday, it was a hectic day and I had to dash off to French after work and I didn’t have time to do a post. He did a lovely job and wrote a post about our Sunday afternoon ride, and then guess what, he made dinner without any input or suggestions from me! It was ready when I got home AND it was delicious. He made a chilli Beef Stroganoff. Fancy I know. I don’t think he knew that he was making a stroganoff but hell.…he made a stroganoff!

And then yesterday, well it was hectic, we were one staff member short again and there were multiple distractions. We’re doing a few alterations to the house – very basic but I’m the acting project manager whilst my man is at work.  All in all I have to answer a lot of questions throughout the day – builders have the most questions, then plumbers then electricians. So building is fun but it does come with its distractions.  And poor old George, our cat, the one with multiple personality disorder and a strong tendency to be neurotic, developed full blown neurosis when the builders, electricians and plumbers descended on our little abode. Horrible! When he needs to leave the office to get food or do his business he does a 360 degree sniper scan of the area before tiptoeing to his desired destination. We then got him a “calming” collar which secretes pheromones and is supposed to relax him a little. At first he gave us death stares and was like “get this thing off me”  but then he kind of realised it wasn’t too bad and he calmed down. The neurosis is still there it’s just turned down a notch. Poor thing.

Anyway, like I was saying, we’ve been real busy at work and so I’m feeding the girls minty chewy sweets, shortbread and a whole jar full of yoghurt, ice-cream and sour pop suckers…it seems to keep them going. I think I’m going to fill the jar with either Marshmallow fish or Zoo Biscuits next – can’t decide. Or Muesli Rusks.

The Apprentice is coming on in 5 minutes and that’s my programme for the week so I’d better end this post now. Thanks for reading and coming back even though we didn’t have anything for you to read yesterday..it really sucks and I’m heartbroken about it…but I’ll get over soon…and I’m sure you will too.

Nighty night!

As if I hadn’t already ridden enough this weekend, 4 hours on Saturday, 3 hours on Sunday doing the Dusi Mfula mtb race! Miss preggie snowflake decides that it was just too much watching all the mountain bikers on Sunday so she needed to go for a ride too. So on Sunday afternoon, my aching old ass was dragged off for my second ride of the day. Summerveld is a lovely horsey area which is perched on top of a hill, it boasts a rather strange mix of mega mansions and tiny little two bedroom houses alongside one another.

Nevertheless, its a lovely area to ride and is frequented my almost every mountain biker who lives in the upper highway area.

I took a camera as I knew that there was always fantastic light up there on most afternoons. During our ride, we rode through this beautiful wooded area where Lou took this winner shot of me riding. I wish I could claim to have taken it! (on self timer)

All in all it was a perfect ending to a perfect winters day in Durban.

I sent my man out on a photo mission on Sunday afternoon.

The brief was, “the essence of the valley of 1000 hills”.  When we were training for the Cape Epic we spent many hours here, pedalling up nasty hills and down equally precarious downhills. We also stopped at a lot of shebeens, not for beer, but for ice cold 2L Cokes. The glass bottles would ceremoniously do their rounds amongst the riders, each person taking a swig before handing over to the next sugar-deprived soul.

I have such fond memories of the valley…

My man came back with so many gorgeous photos but this one really stuck out for me. We’ve ridden along this road more times than I can count up to in French (about 79) ..and that’s alot!

I’m hoping that he’ll do a “Valley Series”, capturing different parts of the areas we visited during our training here. Hint hint nudge nudge!

Driving around today I was amazed to see how many cars have SA national flags on their mirrors, car aerials and or dash boards. A patriotic display of this scale by all races has never before been seen by me in this country! The roadside flag hawkers are doing a roaring trade, get one before they run out!

This display of patriotism is rather alien to me and a lot of other South Africans. When have you ever seen so many national flags proudly displayed? It’s actually quite refreshing, for once we have, even if it’s just for a short while, stopped moaning about crime corruption etc etc etc and felt a little national pride.

It actually feels good to see all the flags flying so proudly wherever you look! Its sounds really corny but I can actually feel the national unity!

Here’s mine below. At first it feels a bit like getting naked in public, but you soon see everyone else is naked and then its ok!

So even if you don’t give a rat’s ass about soccer, FIFA and all that stuff, let yourself feel a little pride and stick a flag on your car! You might even find the feeling lasts!

Jeremy Sanders