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JAYNE WITH A WHY |
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Wednesday, August 24, 2011HE SAID............................ Hubs said "If you could have a holiday anywhere in the world, where would you like to go?"I thought I'd just nut into me blog to let y'all know I'm out of the absolutely-gawd-forsaken-hellhole-filled-with-inbred-neanderthals............aka Ellisras/Lephalale. And seriously, I hope myself & Hubs will never have the misfortune to have to come back - I think I'd rather happily play with a very sharp razor blade.
We're off on a new adventure, to a place where I haven't got the fridge magnet. In between times, we're taking some much needed psychological 'time-out' to get this hateful town & it's associated, much-fucked-up Medupi project out of our systems.
I'll be back sometime in November, insh'allah. Be good & as always, do it quietly. Jayne Labels: A Fuck Up Of Note, are there any shrinks in Ellisras?, Lephalale Municipality, Medupi Power Station  
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.  Thanks to the influx of some 8,000 new inhabitants - here to construct the much needed Medupi power station - Schleppalale has found itself in the midst of a housing boom. New housing compounds & gated communities have sprung up like mushrooms. Building contractors & sub-contractors jumped on the get-rich-quick projects & threw up houses in a hurry. Within 2yrs, many of these houses have serious safety issues & things like ceilings caving in & walls falling over have become common knowledge. Sadly, just because apartheid was abolished 17yrs ago, the forced integration of races of our Rainbow Nation really hasn't gone down very well. Shove mixed races together in small gated communites - after donkeys years of segregation - & man, you've got a recipe for tension. I have historically disadvantaged neighbours on 3 sides & for the most part, have no complaint about them. One family, on the opposite side of the road & a couple of houses down, typifies what many white Saffies dread & dare I say, despise. The 'man of the house' drives a new 5 series Beemer & is probably in his position of employment because he's the 2nd cousin to the brother-in-law of the local ANC appointed mayor. The wimmin of the house sit on milk crates in the garage (doors open) & despite sitting within 2m of each other, shout their conversations. The kids - one little bitch in particular - screams like there is no tomorrow. Adults cannot converse quietly & the spawn do not know how to play happily. Once in a while, a relative pitches up & upon arrival, opens the doors to his smacked up car & turns his sound system up. We cannot complain, because we will be hauled before some disciplinary committee & labelled racist. I don't give a shit what colour your skin is - respect is colour blind! A little bit of respect goes a long way, but sitting on your milk crates, blasting the street with your music & letting your offspring scream incessantly for several hours each day, will simply earn you the much used term of being a 'K***ir With A Barclaycard'. Within a fortnight of arriving in The Last Khaki Outpost - almost 2yrs ago now - Hubs & myself were told by a prominent businesswoman, that 'we' - meaning the newbies to the area - weren't welcome. 'We' brought with us more crime, more traffic, more taxis & more historically disadvantaged inhabitants. No, we were most definitely not welcome. Fast forward almost 2yrs & the towns population has grown by almost 10,000 & there is a dire need for more retail outlets & in particular, well known 'brand' stores. The aforementioned local businesswoman must be shitting herself now, because despite coining it for around 20yrs, she's going to be losing a shitload of trade, thanks to the building of a new shopping mall. It really is Big News in this area. In approximately 18mths time, locals won't have to travel between 200-300km to buy things that are simply unobtainable here. The biggest news is that Woolworths*** is going to have a food store - huzzah! There are expat wives here drooling at the mere mention of Woollies food products & the prospect of being able to buy sed foodstuff locally ranks along the lines of a good shagging. Thankfully, I won't be here to see the opening of the mall. Oh yeah, before I forget, there's allegedly going to be a cinema complex in the New Mall. Oh my gawd, Ellisras really is being dragged into the 21st century!  Now, believe it or not, there are a few positive things I can say about living here. Less than 10mins drive from the town centre, there is a game farm which doesn't have the standard obligatory 'come & kill animals' attraction................no.............this game farm, managed & run by a really nice mid-European couple of old-timers, offers nothing more than a walk through the bush. There are 2 guided walks available - a 'flat' walk & a 'hill' walk. I've done both & can state quite categorically that whoever came up with the description of 'flat' walk is a bloody liar! I traipsed up & down hills, over boulders & through some pretty dense bush & the only 'flat' bit was the couple of hundred metre walk back to the starting point. I'm not shy in admitting I was knackered at the end of the 2hr jaunt, but hell, I enjoyed it - on both occasions. I quite literally took 'time out to smell the roses' - even though there weren't any - but paused on many occasion to look at the simple things that form just a tiny part of what Mother Nature has to offer. Simple things like a spider web stretched between branches, hyaena droppings, a sun-bleached skull & horns of an old kudu & small herds of impala who would stare for a second or two & then scarper in taunting delight. I came across 5 giraffe, quite happily munching on the tastiest leaves at treetop height & marvelled at how they could glide through dense bush with minimal noise. All within a couple of metres from a main road & all for the price of less than a pub lunch. (Spot the giraffe in the photo?) 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
Thursday, September 17, 2009SO HERE I AM..............Despite any rumours you may have heard, I have NOT dropped off the planet, although I must admit, in my current location it sometimes feels that I may have. Much has happened; tears have been shed, dummies spat, huge amounts of dosh are being spent - but I'm still glad we came home. The time was right & as the old saying goes, Timing Is Everything! First up, Hubs got his much longed for tattoo! I got in touch with Davide of Body Graphix in East London, told him we would be in town for one day only & asked if he could fit Hubs in. A couple of emails & stencil later & Davide had everything ready for Hubs appointment. After almost 5hrs, Hubs had reached his pain threshold, which was well timed, cos Davide had just finished! The result - one brilliant tattoo, since nicknamed 'Slobber Dawg'  Sadly, we could only bring one bike home with us, so my beloved Tallulah was sold to fellow Saffie Sjors. I hope he & his missus Selma have many years of comfortable & happy riding :-)  *sniff* bye bye Tallulah *sniff* Not all good things have to come to end though, cos my wonderful partner in life managed to track down a Harley dealer who is importing the new Harley TriGlide into South Africa. Yay gads, at the first available opportunity, he got hold of the dealer & told him he'd like to buy a TriGlide. No sooner said than done & as soon as time allowed, we nutted down to Clearwater Harley in Roodepoort & slapped down a hefty deposit. 
The inbreeders in this corner of the country won't know what's hit 'em! Which brings me on to where I am. Ahh, yes................I'm currently in a small town not far from the Botswana border. It's the kinda town where - until recently - people used to stop to fill up with fuel & perhaps a bite to eat & then carry on with their journey. It is not the kind of town you'd arrive in & declare "Wow - let's live here!". Anyone whoever uttered those words must've seriously been a right plonker. As it is, the town is in the grips of an identity crisis; some call it Ellisras & some call it Lephalale. It is a town where time stood still - possibly around 1975 - and it has now been dragged screaming into the current century. Upon the recent discovery of massive coal seams in the area, Ellisras/Lephalale has gone from sleepy hollow to wannabe throbbing metropolis almost overnight, only it's as if a couple of decades appear to have been lost along the way. A new power station is in the early stages of being built, which has meant many new businesses have sprung up to supply everything that is needed for the contractors. There is a large builders merchant and/or plant hire business on every street corner. Bottle stores are thriving, naturally. The town has grown to such an extent that the local municipality doesn't know where half of the new housing developments are. The favourite mode of dress is khaki, whether it be shorts, long pants, skirts or shirts - any shade of khaki will fit in nicely. Winter fashion is khaki coloured & the shops are now boasting their summer fashions in yep, you guessed it - khaki! It's easy to blend in with the surroundings, especially in the winter months, as everything is 'bush' coloured. I am so very sorely tempted to walk through town one day in my abaya & niqab! After witnessing & silently gasping in shock/horror at the sight of local females sporting back-combed hair, I was tempted to ask a friend 300km away to make an appointment with her hairdresser for me. I have since done a thorough recce of the town & adjoining town of Onverwaght (<-- it helps to have a glob of lung butter at the back of your throat when trying to pronounce this word) & have taken the extremely brave step of booking an appointment to have my locks cut & hi-lited on Saturday at a local & very modern looking salon. Stay tuned, I might have to wear my niqab yet! English is not spoken willingly here. The first language of the area is Afrikaans, as is the 2nd, 3rd & 4th choice of language. If you praat die taal (speak the language) you're well away. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised to discover that Eugene Terreblanche has a strong following here. I have a sneaking suspicion that there are an awful lot of residents in this town that share the same surname. *coff* This is the type of town where you find various stuffed & mounted heads of wildlife on the walls of restaurants & guesthouses. It's big game hunting territory, which is fine - whatever floats your boat I s'pose - but I find it slightly disconcerting to have to eat my meal in a restaurant with the stuffed & mounted head of a massive kudu gazing forlornly at me. *shudder* Talking of wildlife - the first week of my stay here was in a local 'upmarket' 'game lodge'. Considering the establishment is smack bang in town & only has 4 skitterish impala buck darting about, it hardly constitutes a 'game lodge'! The following 'visitor' was less than 5m from our front door. I fuckin' loathe snakes & even though my sludge told me this one was dead, I stayed well back!  I think it was only a mole snake, which is harmless, but it didn't do much for nerves! I have no idea who clobbered it into the next life. After an agonisingly long week in the not-exactly-a-game lodge, we were given the keys to a newly built house. I whizzed around town & bought essential furniture which was to be delivered the following morning, a Saturday. We went to the house, only to discover that whenever a light or plug was turned on, the electricity would 'trip'. An electrician came out & 4hrs later, we had a reasonably safe supply of electricity. A toilet in the main-en-suite developed a leak & within an hour, water had flooded through into about 50% of the main bedroom. A plumber was called out. He fixed the problem. Less than 2hrs later, another problem with the same fucking toilet became evident & as there was no stop-tap on the loo, Hubs had to shut off the mains water supply. He checked the loo out, saw what the problem was & fixed it. Unfortunately, the bedroom got yet another soaking & within 48hrs, it started to smell................correction - it bloody hummed. It was a vile smell & I hate to think what was in that carpet to make it stink so badly - yuk! I'm not a snob (really!) cos I don't spell fuck with a ph, but the arrival of a couple of the 1-2-3- Brigade (1ltr Brandy, 2ltr Coke & 3ltr car) in the complex made me even more uncomfortable. One lot had their vast assortment of garden gnomes on proud display within hours of moving in. Not just a few mind you - there were dozens of the ceramic retards in strategic positions in the garden. One problem after another surfaced with that poxy house. I swear it wasn't built - it was thrown up. The wiring/electrical contractor was obviously blind & couldn't do the work, so his guide dog must've wired the place. The plumbing contractor cut so many corners, I'm surprised he actually left taps fitted & not just pipes sticking out of the wall. It later transpired that the local electrical contractor had subbed the work out to some cowboy from a town several hundred kilometres away. Not my problem - it's his & his responsibilty, which is now costing him dearly, as he's having to fix many, many cock-ups. One crappy thing after another went wrong - mainly with the electricity - so we were asked to suss out another new house, in a different part of town.
We came to the complex, checked out a couple of houses & made the decision to move, as fast as possible! We're now in a lovely house, which was built by competent builders! I have a very new & bare but much-longed for garden. I'm not sure if this is my 38th or 39th house move - but one thing I do know is that moving house twice in 2 weeks is a record for us! Hubs & I were the first people to move into the complex & I reckon we'll be quite content here...............it's only for a couple of years, which isn't very long if you say it quickly. So, here I am.................. P.S. Sincere thanks to fab friends D&D for all their help & especially for always having an opening for us in their wonderful hotel :-) Fellow (read fabulous) blogger Jimmy - he of Jimmy The Bastard fame - suffered a stroke last Friday. Like many others who take great pleasure in reading Jimmys blog, I'm wishing him a full & speedy recovery. Get well soon darlin' & I'm sure your lovely wife Siobhan will record Celtic's matches for you! Much strength to you both xoxoxox Labels: Afrikaans in NOT the only official language, Clearwater Harley, dawg tattoo, Eishkom, Ellisras in a time warp, I fuckin hate snakes, Medupi Power Station
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