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Saturday, June 04, 2011THE TOWN IN WHICH I LIVELocation: A dorp (small town) in Limpopo Province, which suffers from an identity crisis.It is known by is original name of Ellisras & also by its all-new-politically-correct-name of Lephalale. I know it as either The Last Khaki Outpost or Schleppalale. It has most definitely earned both of my given nicknames, because the colour 'khaki' has remained in fashion for at least 40yrs & it is worn by people who tend to drive around in khaki coloured vehicles, who live on khaki themed game farms, where many a khaki coloured horned animal - primarily of the antelope family - is killed for fun and/or biltong. You can kill a beast by arrow or bullet, depending on your level of hunting experience, for about the same cost as a good night out in a major city. The alternate nickname of Schleppalale was given due to the towns location in this vast country of ours. Not many people know where it is (unless you're into killing animals for fun) & my given explanation on how to get here is usually along the lines of "head north, turn left & stop about 90km before you hit Botswana." Blank expressions turn into lightbulb moments when the recognition of our whereabouts hits the right brain cell. I really am not exaggerating when I say it's a bloody schlepp to get here. ~*~ My favourite bylaw (Bev) reckons The LKO is tucked away behind The Boerewors Curtain! ~*~ ![]() Due to the abundance of game farms in the area, many popular businesses are named after various wildlife species. A favourite watering hole & eating spot for 2 legged mammals (especially mentally challenged local Blue Bulls* supporters) is the KEG & Kudu. The KEG is a franchised pub/restaurant group in SA & we are blessed to have one situated in our neighbourhood suburb of Onverwaght. (For non-Saffies reading this, the pronounciation of Onverwaght is as follows: In SA, a 'v' is pronounced as an 'f' & a 'w' is pronounced as a (hard) 'v'. The 'gh' is easily pronounced, moreso if you happen to have a nice chunky lump of lungbutter at the back of your throat, which (naturally) needs hocking up. Therefore, Onverwaght is said as On-fur-va-ghhhh-ct. Simple innit? Kindly spit or swallow lungbutter after pronounciation, thank you.) Getting back to the KEG & Kudu, I have to admit that the food is extremely good, they serve Kilkennys (which keeps Hubs happy) & apart from afore-mentioned local Blue Bulls supporters, is a nice place in which to unwind, after an especially stressful day at work. ![]() Local knowledge can be appreciated, especially when one does not know where specific places are. There is a well known spot referred to simply as 'Oom Potties'. Every khaki-clad local & his Rottweiler knows where 'Oom Potties' is, which excluded us, when we were invited to go for a ride one Sunday morning. When we said we had no idea where 'Oom Potties' was, the simple directions of "head out of town (towards Botswana) & ride straight for exactly 50kays. Oom Potties is on the right hand side." And sod me, if the directions weren't spot on! Oom Potties is what can only be described as an old fashioned trading store, where you can buy a packet of fags, the local newspaper, a can of pilchards & a bottle of Klippies**. The store is run by a husband & wife couple, who welcome bikers & strangers alike. They have a resident tarantula spider, who appears to be quite happy living amongst the vygie plant boxes. The trading store borders the rather magnificent Fahad Private Game Reserve, which as one can guess, is owned by some particularly rich member of the Sandpit Royal family. ![]() Some 60 odd kilometers from town, one can turn left at Marken & head towards what was known as Potgietersrus & is now known as Makopane. It's a stunning riding road & this is the view at the bottom of a lovely mountain pass. It would be so much better if the fuckwitted historically disadvanted local cattle herder didn't let his cattle roam in the road. There's no fucking grass growing in the middle of the tarmac, so I fail to see the appeal of cattle taking an afternoon stroll. There are some nasty accidents on this particular road, due mainly to idiotic bovines & the more-than-often drunk driver. Gotta admit, it still makes a wicked ride! Back in town, there are small enclaves of well-known brand shops, of which Edgars is one, where you can buy incredibly over-priced clothing, cosmetics, bedding & a cellphone on credit. What isn't very well known is that there are a few expats in the area, who cling (desperately at times, I have to admit) to their collective sense of humour. Edgars, being terribly politically correct, placed an advertising board outside of their store last Eid. It was the 'green light' moment for myself & 2 other wimmin friends who have lived in the Middle East, to don our abayas & niqabs & hit the town.............woohooo! I have to admit there was many a sloped foreheaded, eyes-way-too-close-together local who quite literally stopped in his/her tracks when they saw us. Being totally anonymous, no one had any idea as to who we were & the facial reactions of the Khaki brigade were truly priceless. I suspect there were a few mutterings in the KEG that evening, along with probable suspicions that Osama bin Laden was quite possibly holed up in a rather upmarket private game reserve nearby Oom Potties. ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Finally, one other good thing about living here, is the proximity to the Tropic of Capricorn. In real terms, it gets fucking hot in summer, but now, in winter, we have cold mornings & evenings, but lovely, sunny days, with an average temperature in the mid 20C's. We have straight roads - in good condition with the exception of one - ideal for biking. Urban legends are made from stuff like kudu jumping game fences & landing on a car bonnet (hey, 200kg free biltong guys!) & warthog or porcupines coming second in a fight with oncoming headlights ("man, I've got porciupine quills in my radiator!"). We have the most stunning view of unspoilt bushland for as far as the eye can see. If it wasn't for the Medupi project, bringing its influx of workers to the area, the locals of the much clinged to town of Ellisras, could go back to living in their little world, which seemed to have got stuck somewhere around 1973. Unfortunately for them, we came along & fucked it all up. * The Blue Bulls are a prominent South African rugby team. I suspect they may have some talented players, as they frequently win major Southern Hemisphere trophies. Unfortunately, their supporters consist mainly of neanderthals with very small brains. They are obnoxious to say the least. ** Klippies - a fond term for Klipdrift, a well known South African brandy. Drank in vast quantities by Blue Bulls supporters, who are fondly known as "1,2,3's" - 1ltr Klippies, 2ltr Coke & 3ltr 1985 Ford Cortina. *** Woolworths. Trades in the UK as Marks & Spencers. Normally has quality clothing products made by poorly paid Romanians. Food is pukka & is the only shop I know of in SA which sells genuine pork pies & proper crumpets. Retail prices may involve having to negotiate the sale of future children and/or grandchildren. It ain't cheap to do your grocery shopping at Woolies, but bugger, it's worth it! Labels: Blue Bulls Supporters Are Inbred, Ellisras/Schleppalale, Fahad Private Game Reserve, Klippies Brandy, Medupi Power Station, The Boerewors Curtain, Woolworths food ![]() ![]()
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