Mac has not been very well,
but is still e-mailing strong. Here’s an account of a trip he
made to
South Africa some time ago.
In South Africa I had been cutting my own hair but was invited to some wealthy South African friends of a friend of mine home. (They had their own game reserve, plane etc. ) so I thought I better get a better haircut so as to not disgrace my friend. When I went to the barber he took one look at my hair and said. “I see you have been having a go of it yourself. ‘
At a Catholic church in Johannesburg they hear confessions in Sesotha, Padi, Tsnamia, Zulu/Xnoise, Chiceno, English, Afriken, Dutch, Spanish, Italian and French but the priest did not understand my English (thank heavens!) At Notre Dame Cathedral in Pairs they hear confessions in Esperanto. Learning Esperanto is a good way to meet Esperanto speakers all over the world. I have a friend that speaks Esperanto and he goes all around the world spending a day or two with someone he has met this way. Actually all I think he knows how to say is Hello.
A white South African priest in Cape town told me that when they had apartheid he went out to meet an American priest at the airport. He could not find him and finally found him in the black section. When he asked the priest why he was there, the American said the other waiting room read Europeans Only and he was not European. This was his way of making fun of apartheid.
When I was in South Africa, a Canadian lady went on Sabi Sabi Reserve looking for animals. They got up at 5am each morning as we did also. They had a guide who warned them to not stand up if they saw any animals. They did this for three days and all they saw were birds! We were luckier at the Kruger Game Park. Sometimes you are lucky and sometimes you aren’t. If unlucky I suggest you go to the wonderful zoo in Pretoria. I enjoyed it even after being to all the game parks.
At hotel Killarney in Durban South Africa they had a Monks Inn where they have strip shows with lunch. You often see signs Steak, Eggs and Chips. This sign read Steak, Eggs, and Strips. If you see a strip show in a Monks Inn is that a double sin?
At Bergkelder winery at Stellenbosch (a university town in South Africa) I leaned that sweet taste buds are at the front of your tongue and bitter taste buds are at that back of your tongue. I wonder what I will learn tomorrow? Probably that I have a headache.
I went to see the l000 hills near Durban. There are 1000 Zulus living in 1000 hills. I asked the Zulu guide if I only looked at l5 of them (the hills) could I get a discount? He jokingly ordered me off the tour bus. He told us some of the Zulu history. There was a Zulu King named “Follow Me” in Zulu. He got a young girl pregnant. He denied he was the father saying it was a false pregnancy (her imagination. ) When the baby was born the new mother named the baby boy False Pregnancy, in Zulu, “Shaka. ” Shaka grew up to be a warrior and leader of the Zulus. He trained the Zulus to walk barefoot on thorns to toughen their feet (we did the same thing in basic training. ) It was rather a long but true story and one of the lady tourists interrupted this fascinating story to announce that she was cold.
The oldest bar in Capetown is the Firemans Bar. Firemen from ships used to go there. On the wall they have listed a telephone service with charges for answering services. He’s not here: 20 cents. He’s just left: 25 cents. Haven’t seen him all day: 30 cents. Haven’t seen him all week: 35 cents. Who? 40 cents.
In Durban I wanted to go out to the Hare Krishna Centre (there are a lot of Indians that live in Durban and some are very wealthy. ) I had not been out to the Hare Krishna centre in Virginia but decided to see this one in South Africa. I was told to take the Indian bus out from the Indian market. I asked how I would know the Indian bus and was told, “It has Indians on it. ”
En route to Addo Game Reserve 90 kilometres from Port Elizabeth, the guide was telling us the farmers in the desolate area raised goats. The German along with us did not know what animal the driver was talking about. I pointed to my goatee and then he knew. They used to feed the elephants citrus fruit and apples at 4. 30 PM (there is a travel book entitled Elephants arrive at half past four. ) But they have quit doing this as they want the elephants to take care of themselves so they now issued them food stamps. The elephants are smaller at this reserve.
If you would like to get in touch with Mac, he is happy to correspond by e-mail when he is well. His e-mail address is: macsan400@yahoo. com
City of Culture in 1990: virtual tour of his surviving works. Glasgow is a
from
the same plane look me up and down and give me a wide berth.
Did I have
alcohol, cigarettes, perfume, or anything else over the limit or
anything else that I should have declared?
Whilst
waiting for my luggage to arrive, I got talking to a lady in a
wheel chair and helped her with her luggage when I caught the same
Customs woman watching me with a beady look in her eye. I
then realised
I was in for the long run here at Sydney airport and thought back about
why she had descended on me, why she was being so rude and aggressive
and why she had picked me out. Maybe because I looked
slightly
dishevelled after the overnight flight, maybe because my passport has a
lot of stamps in it or maybe she just doesn’t like Beetles – who knows,
I will never find out.
I
was instructed to open my own luggage, but not to touch anything
inside. If I hadn’t been so tired, it would have been quite
funny,
because she was so dramatic, barking orders like I’d just arrived in
prison and had to obey without question. Back pack first,
then luggage.
Item no 1 in my day pack: yummy biscuits from Singapore for the journey
I’d planned to make to the Blue Mountains. The female customs
official
tried to confiscate my chocolate chip shortbread biscuits bought in
Singapore for the long airport wait and I’d forgotten to eat them, by
claiming them to be ‘food’ – I agreed and said yes, shortbread is food,
but they are unopened and totally allowed. I asked her if she
wanted
one and she sourly said that she could not accept food because it might
be poisoned. My day dreaming got slightly the better of me,
I’d taken
the seven hour overnight flight from Singapore, had no sleep and was
far from best form but some childish notion inside me propelled me to
an alternate universe where I was watching the Customs woman writhing
on the ground having eaten a poisoned biscuit.
start!
And what was so ironic about this whole episode – I was after another
30 minutes dismissed – when I got out of the airport and later picked
up a newspaper, I discovered that the whole of Australia was up in arms
about the Queensland woman who got caught smuggling 4 ½ kgs
of cannabis in her boogie board in Bali, and the suspicion that they
had been put there by a Brisbane airport based gang of airport based
dug dealer baggage handlers.
I
have been to Sydney three times before and have never been carried away
by it, and I hope that my airport experience did not colour my view,
but I came to the conclusion that the area from Liverpool st upwards to
circular quay – about half a km – is architecturally interesting, with
a mix of early 20th century buildings and modern high rise, and it too
has character. But there are some pretty hideous modern
buildings when
they could be so amazing – there are so many cities, London included,
where modern architecture, in my opinion anyway is done so
well. I
found the rest of metropolitan Sydney to be pretty dull (sorry
Australian readers!) and samey and decidedly lacking character, though
found a nice suburb, Surrey Hills, just to the right of central Station
which has lots of nice cafes and restaurants and those colonial types
of narrow terraced houses with pretty wrought iron balconies.
I also
kept being ripped off with change, this happened every single day when
I would be short changed in shops. I was also over charged by
the hotel
I stayed in in the Blue Mountains, which again didn’t feel too good; I
guess this thing happens everywhere where you are noticeably from out
of town, but this is the first time in any country this has happened to
me.
The Germans, an all male group were enthralled and clicked away with every description of cameras and also whirring away with a multitude of video cameras. Fortunately they made no objection to my discreet presence as I too clicked away.
The Eritrean railway system had originally been built by the Italians during the ’20’s when they occupied Abyssinia (later renamed Ethiopia) and the meticulous stone bridges and tunnels are a lasting tribute to their artisans. Mines had also to be cleared from many places like bridges, tunnels and roadbeds.
If one was lucky enough to get to the counter that day, then the wad of letters and visa application form were handed in and a suitable fee was to be paid in US $ notes-[about $150 was the usual. ] More queues – one at the cashier’s office and another queue back at the Immigration’s Visa counter, to hand over the receipt. It also was not a good idea to have to visit the toilet whilst in the queue.
Once in possession of the Incoming Crew’s Visa, it was best to scan it, e-mail it to them so as to present it on arrival at Asmara Airport. It was possible for the Immigration department to have the visa on hand on arrival but that took a lengthy wait in yet another queue there.
Yet another method of visa acquisition was possible; by applying at the Eritrean Embassy. In our case this was in Pretoria but it took a week and cost plenty more than when obtained in Eritrea.