The Air Canada flight reminded me of all the reasons people are, in general, too special to fly. After being well delayed because an Indian family, all over the age of 100, couldn’t understand what seats were for and what to do with them until a flight attendant basically pushed them into them, we finally took off. Although at Heathrow you never just take off, you drive for an hour, get into line and watch as 20 flights take off before you. And THEN you take off.
It seemed just after takeoff that we may have the most high maintenance flyers on the planet. People were complaining about the screens before they even turned them on, there was a long row of old ladies discussing what movies they were going to watch and I swaer she yelled Jack Reacher across the plane 40 times. One lady thought you made your seat go back by force, smashing force even though there is definitely a button for that. And above all that people’s buzzers were going off like crazy! Over and over!! After way too long a time an announcement came on explaining that the volume buttons were not located on the chair but on the screen. The buttons on the chairs were the buzzers. So stop trying to control the volume with them…
I had seen almost all the new releases on the plane. I ended up watching Django Unchained, fucking Tarentino and gratuitous violence. Then I made the mistake of watching a heart wrenching documentary called Surviving the Plague, about activists roles in the Aids epidemic. Our Kleenex supply was already dwindling fast because of our disgusting colds but after that doc, I cried so much we were totally out.
Needless to say we got home safely. No engine fires, which had happened previously that day at Heathrow, completely shutting the place down.
We made it through customs, even though I absolutely brought stuff home I’m not supposed to. Like meat and stuff. Suckers. I knew they would never catch me.
My Mom picked us up and standing right next to her at our arrival area was someone else we knew from Almonte. Such a small world. It was so evident we were back in Canada because when I raced to the bathroom after we got off the plane and people were chatting, laughing and organizing who should go to the bathroom first because of their shortest flight connection times. I couldn’t picture this happening anywhere else. It was evident, even as far back as Heathrow, when lining up for the plane that we were heading to Canada. I could hear people saying sorry for everything, which I always get made fun of in SA for. Air Canada was also changing people’s seats around and they were all happy too, no problems. There was a Lesbian couple that couldn’t keep their hands off each other in front of us in the queue. It was all so Canadian:)
We got into the car and told Mom how we were so looking forward to eating healthy, like tons of vegetables and we both were anxious to get back to the gym as all our clothes were tight. So we stopped at Burger King on the way home for dinner. Ok healthy eating starting AFTER today!
We are so happy to be home! We are excited about getting back to work, assuming we are both still wanted at our jobs…we have been gone awhile, they may have forgotten about us. Anyhoo, onward and upward in our safe and beautiful country of ours.

Dear South African Airways,
When people book tickets together usually the expectation is that they are sitting together. Nope. Instead I was sandwiched, for a 12 hour flight, between a guy who didn’t realize he was spreading himself into my personal space and a guy, who blocked my access to the aisle who was asleep the WHOLE time. I eventually had to catapult myself over him when my bladder couldn’t wait anymore. Thank god my tummy didn’t have a gluten meltdown. We were, although, fortunate enough to be on the plane with a gentleman whose laugh was so loud and cartoonish that it reminded me of the Doctor from the Simpsons meets what I imagine Mr. Monopoly would sound like laughing x10. At one point the flight attendants were looking around trying to figure out where that loud noise was coming from. When they placed it, realized it was someone laughing, they all cracked up so much they had to hide their faces. It made me laugh so hard I was crying.
I was so excited about going to London. Then we landed. It was foggy, rainy and 11 degrees. Ohhh yaaa permanent shitty weather! I conveniently had forgotten about that.
After having a heart attack over the prices of our tube passes I realized to just let go of the fact my credit card was going to be thoroughly abused on this trip and have a good time. We got onto the tube towards the flat we had rented. I’m sure I’m the only person thAt can laugh at all 12 tube stops when they announce that the train was headed for Cockfosters.
We found our cute flat, fell asleep and awoke to Andrie arriving, one of Hennie’s best friends and best man at the wedding. It was time to pub crawl. We walked all the way to the high street and stopped in every single pub we found all the way back to our neighbourhood. By 8:30 it was evident we needed to eat something. We had been enjoying the wonderful heavenly nectars until walking straight seemed like an issue. We head to a wonderful gem of a place across the road from our flat and absolutely stuffed ourself with Thai food. This little restaurant was adorable. We had already been there for breakfast that day, was greeted by the Lebanese owner and then served by what seemed like an Asian drag queen. The breakfast was awesome and we have been there for at least one meal everyday since. We can actually go in and order the usual and he knows what we want- amazing.
The next day we were on expedition to Beaconsfield to see a friend of Andrie’s who was a GM of a pub. I certainly underdressed. I had no idea that Beaconsfield was one of the richest places in London and that the place would be fancy. We were absolutely treated to whatever we wanted!! Beer, wine, Martinis, starters, meals and desserts. Needless to say, with my sad belly, I came home and was violently ill but Im kind of getting used to this shit by now. The night was amazing, Jacques, the manager was so lovely and he even drove us all the way home in his Audi.
The next day, as planned, I was dragging the boys 2 hours across England to go to the old Country pub I had been a bar manager at when I was 19. The Tichborne Arms. We toured around Winchester first seeing the Cathedral, King Arthur’s Round table, the inside of a couple pubs and the wonderful farmers market. Then we got a cab into the countryside. It was so surreal. Being at a pub I have thought about very often since being there 9 years ago and a place where I had dreamed of returning to one day to have a pint with the previous owners and locals. It had actually probably been the steadiest home, besides my parents, that I have lived at in the past 9 years.
It was magic to be there…and then the previous owners, my old bosses, Keith and Janie Day arrived. It was incredible to see them. We were all so excited to see each other. We shared stories, caught up, reminisced and snuck hugs wherever we could. I can’t explain how wonderful it was. The new owner even took me on a tour of the flat upstairs I had lived in for almost a year.
We were having so much fun I almost forgot that I was really hoping at least one of the local gang would come in. And then, the only one I was truly hoping to see, walked in the door. Henry. He smokes a pack of cheap cigarettes everyday, has at least 2 pints everyday and sounds like a gypsy from Snatch and I love him. I was so excited to see him. My London trip was complete now. Janie, Keith & Henry at the Tichborne Arms. I wished the night would never end! They drove us back to Winchester just in time for us to catch the train, we all cried. It was pretty special. Thanks to Hennie & Andrie for indulging me and coming along for the ride. It made my year:)
Today I have split up from the boys to meet up with an old friend of mine from Australia, that I lived with in Cornwall. We lived in trailers on the Cornish coast, it was such a riot! It’s a much needed break, after almost a month spending every walking moment together, I’m glad Hennie & Andrie are having their time today. Although who knows what they will get up to. I half expect to find them drunk and in a strip club later… But oh well;)
London’s pretty awesome. I love the tubes, I love the bustle and it seems friendlier then it used to. Every time we have looked lost or confused people have voluntarily came up to offer their assistance. The London I remember would walk by someone dead on the street and not have a second thought about it.
London has always seemed like a cool place but it feels like its even cooler now, if that’s even possible. Tomorrow we leave. It’s sad, but also it’s time.😢🇬🇧
PS- Maggie: Remember when I met up with you in Paris last year after South Africa and I got hysterically sick with a cold? Yeah. That happened again. As soon as I stepped off the plane. Fuck. Oh well. I have never let it stop me from having a good time before!
P.P.s-you know what’s fun? Navigating the tubes after a couple glasses of wine! I’m not totally sure where I’m going and I don’t totally care. Its like yeah, I feel this tube should probably take me where i want to go. It will work out. Only London can make a perfect public transpo system that is totally asshole proof. Omg there is someone meditating on the tube, while holding baguettes! fucking brilliant! And the old buddy next to me is listening to dance music!
Also after a couple glasses I think I keep seeing celebrities! I swear I just walked next to Kim kardashian and Lawrence Welch… Just sayin’ It is entirely possible it was not them…weeeee

Wow. What a weekend!

We started off on Friday night by celebrating, Debbie, Hennie’s cousin’s birthday. She is our Jagermeister drinking friend. Hours of singing, dancing, me playing the drunken psychologist for someone while sitting in a bathtub, and shots of Jager…needless to say the evening was fun. But the next morning I was suffering greatly. The party had all the signs of a great time, drama, broken ash trays and terrible, terrible hangovers. We knew Debbie would want to celebrate. On Monday she had been involved in an attemtped car jack. She had a gun slip through her window and into her face. She got out of the car only to see the guy was nervous, an amateur. So as any good super religious, Jager drinking person, she kicked him in the balls, kicked the gun out of his hands, there was a struggle and she got away. Scary! But go Debbie!

The next day, after hours of me feeling terrible sorry for myself, we went to a party for my sister-in-laws Grandma and Aunts. Wow. There was more meat than you could shake a stick at, and all my favourites. Pig on a spit (ewww), chicken with bones in them (ickkk), and coil sausages (looks like poo). But I was so starving from “cleansing” my body all day, I ate some. After an hour the hall where the Birthday took palce looked like the Carleton Place Bingo Hall in the 1990′s on a Saturday night. People with mullets, 80′s fashion and sooooo much smoke! I think it’s a rule here that you must smoke to live here. It was crazy. And the music, omg the music. It was either country, Elvis or their weird traditional music that sounds like polka with a faster beat. And the traditional dancing is just old school slow dancing, one arm wrapped around the other, one arm out but they speed it up! Like slow dancing on fast forward! It looked retarded. So I old Hennie, you know now that Afrikaaners in my books are rednecks. He looked around and agreed.

So here we are, we are leaving today! I can’t beleive it. It’s so different from last time. Last time when we were leaving we were sad because we didn’t know why we were leaving. We had so little going in Canada that it seemed like going back there was dumb. This time is totally different. We have been here for 3 weeks. We have lived it here. We have seen it all. It’s time to go home. I love South Africa and I could live here for short term only but it will never be my home.

Dear Canada,

I used to think you were boring, even annoying. The politics, the cold, the rules. I have found new found respect for you. You are a safe, cozy place, where it’s ok to be a vegetarian, where 2-3 ply toilet paper reigns (here it’s 1ply and I use half a roll everytime I go, wtf SA). Where driving isn’t a blood curdling experience, where the biggest problem at four way stops isn’t if you are going to get killed or not, it’s that no one can decide who should go first, no you go, no really I insist, YOU go, no really you go. Canada you don’t need security systems, bars on the windows, electric fence surrounding the property and paranoia that the maid and the gardener are planning to kill you. Canada, you ain’t so bad. See ya soon.

BUT NOT UNTIL AFTER LONDON!!!!!!!!!!

Just came back from another few days of EXTREME peace and quiet at Hennie’s parents house. During this time I realized I am totally into cricket. Not the games that last weeks or years but the Indian Premiere League. It’s actually kind of fun. I don’t know exactley what goes on the whole time but I can keep score and there are lot’s of good looking guys and that’s really all you need. I am kind of obsessed with it. It’s actually awesome. Dear Baseball, have you seen cricket? Makes you lot look like a bunch of boring pansies. No gloves, bigger bat, circular field and way more fun. I will never watch baseball again (not like I ever did mind you).

I have somehow become addicted to Cream Soda here. It may have all stemmed from the fact that servers in the restaurants don’t understand what I am saying when I say water. My hard “American” R makes it a totally foreign word. Hennie will on occasion save me by saying some weird word that sounds like pirate talk “Matey” or say the word WAHTAH and then they understand. If not I just get Cream Soda…which must have heroine in it or something! It’s is a disgusting chemical green that reminds me of something from ghost busters, it’s full of sugar and probably toxic waste but it’s so good!! I’ve also noticed it helps, stomach aches, headaches and especially hangovers. It is my cure-all and I love it. I don’t think we have anything like it in Canada, if we do, I don’t want to know…I also randomly started putting a tiny bit of sugar in my normally black coffee, my god South Africa you have ruined me!!!

The other night as we were going to bed, after a hard day of stomach issues, I asked Hennie if he remembered what vegetables were like, he laughed. I miss them. Even when I order salads here it’s like 40lbs of chicken on a peice of lettuce and a tomato.

Well my stomach was awesome the first week we were here, the second week it started to realize we weren’t in Kansas anymore and now it’s officially on Defcon 3 (I’m assuming that means something urgent). I actually understand the need for adult diapers. One episode involved Hennie’s Mom in a high speed race against time to get me to a bathroom. She took me to her sisters but she wasn’t there, so she pointed around back where the maids toilet was. Remember in Trainspotting when he goes to the ‘Worst Toilet is Scotland’? Yeah that happened here. It was bad. I was sure I had picked up a disease. Even Hennie’s Dad told me to go home and have a shower… Fuck you gluten, fuck you in the face! Hennie’s Mom had a good laugh about it after, I am sure this is now making the rounds in Hennie’s family’s gossip circles.

The religious book store in the mall is called “Cum Books”…wtf were they thinking?! Many people speak English here!! It might as well be the Sperm Book Nook or Penis Protein Chapters.

I met the Real House Wives of primary school rugby games yesterday! They were all done up, hair done, pearls on, all wearing name brand sunglasses and one with a see thru shirt!! At a rugby game for 10 year olds! Crazy. I may or may not have taken pictures of them…creepily…

Another South African sweet they have here, besides that yummy vagina cake is something that looks like a twisted, Jewish doughnut. It’s called a koeksister. I can’t pronounce it so when I am talking about it I say Coke Sister. When I was telling Hennie’s friend, the one who had been in rehab multiple times, about all the traditional food we had been eating I stumbled again and said Coke Sisters. His eye lit up and he said that was the kind of shit that would land in him in rehab again…oh dear…will work on my pronounciation in the future…

I have a tan! Like a normal looking, freckle infested tan! Which goes so well with the uncomfortable amount of clothes I bought yesterday. Omg the animal prints! It’s too much! And dresses over pants are really in here, so they are eveywhere and that is SO my style. I went crazy, it was so worth it. I drew the line at leapard print leggings, which Hennie thanked me for. But then I saw a women wearing grey leopard print leggings and I think I need them!! I’m sure I won’t be alotted anymore shopping time after yesterdays episode.

Time here seems to be winding down. Only 4 more days left. Hennie’s heart is slowly breaking. On one hand we never want to leave his fam but on the other hand we are looking forward to vegetables, cooking, going to the gym, my fam and walking outside, like down a street. It’s not safe here to do that so the only walking you get is in the malls. I also get in trouble for cleaning here because everyone has maids. I am so excited to get back to Canada so I can really clean something, like scrub a sink, or vacuum! My OCD has risen to a whole new international level, it’s insane…

It’s amazing how religious this country is. I seriously have no problem with people and their religious choices I am just always shocked when it is so out there and public. We were cut off by a car the other day that had a sticker in the back window that said the car was powered by Jesus. Well I think Jesus would have been pissed of by your driving ability sir, you are not representing his ideals well by being a selfish asshole on the road. But I imagine being powered by Jesus is way cheaper than gas right? That VW was running on pure, unleaded holy love.

We went to see Hennie’s cousin’s son play rugby again yesterday. And guess who was the main sponsor of the rugby tournament? You guessed it…Jesus! They were blasting christian music that sounded exactley like Blink 182 but talked about the Holy Father in Afrikaans. The band was called Jesus Culture…awesome. There were signs that said Jesus lives all over the place and there were even Bible quotes on the rugby balls!! Hennie thought that marketing Jesus on rugby balls was a brilliant way to make money in this country. He wished he had though of it first…I thought maybe we could market cricket bats with giant crosses on it. We may have a successful business here someday after all.

I started throwing the ball back and forth with Hennie’s cousins other son, Junior. It turns out I have a decent arm and have the gift of catching anything thrown at me. I kept having rugby Dads come by and compliment me in Afrikaans! Well I have no idea what they were saying, I am just assuming it was good. Maybe they were saying my form was bad, or girls shouldn’t play rugby, or that Jesus was signing autographs in the tent behind me. I had no idea.

I drank an Americano! So exciting!!

We went to Hennie’s cousins after and decided the best thing to do was to play drinking games! Sweet! We played coins, some Alphabet game I made up on the spot, but the drinking wasn’t having fast enough so we decided to play Chirades and the winners got to drink. Let’s just say I totally rock at that game and I had a slight headache this morning. Everyone was such good sports. We acted out things like belly dancing, Days of Our Lives and Justin Beiber. WHAT A RIOT! I think I am going to have regular chirades parties when I get home, so much fun.

Beiber fever is still rampant here. He is in Jo’Burg tonight. I can’t beleive how big he is here. Every store sells shirts with his face on it, they play his music on the radio all the time and 4 girls at his Cape Town concert were taken to the hospital for fainting. WTF! I totally don’t get it.

Today we are celebrating Mother’s Day by having a Poikie. Which is like a meat stew slow cooked on an open fire in a cast iron pot. We went to the mall to get all the necessary ingredients, where both of Hennie’s nephews could have full on nervous breakdowns in the line ups so that everyone around us hated us. And were probably thinking Fuck Mother’s Day, kids suck.

I bought a grey leopard print dress. Weee!

Anyhoo, off to Hennie’s parents this evening for a few days of endless eating, Days of Our Lives and Cricket watching until I get so angry at not understanding wtf is going on that I go read a damned book.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom!!!!! Love you and miss you!!!!!! Thanks for everything!!!!

I had gluten free pizza! How exciting. My Gluten defense vitamins have been working very well though, except for last night when all hell broke lose in my belly…but enough about that…

I went to get my nails done here! I know, I know. I went with my sister-in-law. While we were sitting there the radio was playing in the background. Avril came on…I apologized on behalf of Canada. A little while later Justin Beiber played…and again I apologized on behalf of my country. Then Buble and Nickelback played and I felt people resenting me, I apologized again saying I would just go ahead and say sorry for Celine too. I am sorry that Canada exports such shitty music and we keep all the good music to ourselves! How embarassing…Nail art is really big here, so I went with it. It definitely looks like an 80s disco exploded on my nails, but I am fitting in with the locals.

We went to visit an old friend of Hennie’s who now lives in a MANSION on the outskirts of town. Apparently years of rehab and owning a successful hydraulics company has worked out for him. I decided to participate in the Afrikaans tradition, among adults and children alike, I had a cup of coffee before bed. I don’t understand how these people are immune to caffeine, but their coffee is so bad maybe there probably isn’t any in it at all. But it was a bad idea. I played games on my phone all night until I got “Mahjong arm” a rare problem I’m sure only I get.

OMG MONKEYS! We went to the monkey sanctuary! So much fun!! We have amazing pictures of Hennie walking across a scary suspension bridge with a monkey on his head. SO funny! Instead of him having a shit fit over the height of the bridge he was keeping the monkey out of his pockets and camera bag as it was a known kleptomaniac. The guide said he had recently scored a Blackberry and an iPhone 5 charger and was now looking for the iPhone 5. I have never gripped my phone so hard. The monkey wanted to jump on me but I was terrified he would rip my earrings out, eat them and then steal my baby (phone).

I’m dying to go shopping. Their is leopard print everywhere and I have a feeling I will come home with a whole wardrobe fit for a cougar.

We went to visit Hennie’s cousin and his counsin’s wife, with Hennie’s parents. Everyone there was deaf except Hennie and I. It was the quietest conversation I have ever been apart of. I may or may not have videotapped the facial expressions of the Hennie’s dad, because they are a riot. His Mom busted me though…so I stopped.

So what I may have failed to mention last post, was that on our tour around Pilanesburg, there was a 2 year old having a day long nervous breakdown in the car, sandwiched between me and my sister in law. They do not beleive in seat belts or car seats here so I was punched, sat on, snotted on and screamed at most of the time. I was also over tired so everything he did caused me to secretly lose my mind. Needless to say my Uterus hopped out of the car and fed itself to the lions. Remember when I said last year that kids are so much more behaved here? I 100% retract that statement completely. It was perfect timing that after this trip we were scheduled to stay with Hennie’s parent for a couple days-hurrrah peace and quiet! (Super quiet actually…)

Staying there was fun. We watched Days of Our Lives everyday, which was a riot seeing Hennie’s parents really get into the storyline even though they didn’t really know what was going on as they couldn’t here it and they couldn’t read lips as it was in English. Staying with older people is fun because afternoon naps were totally acceptable and in fact encouraged. We watched Cricket as well which just seemed like a clusterfuck of rules and not much happening…but people were so into it! After hours of Hennie trying to explain to me how it is played, I told him it was too retarded for me to learn and that was that. SO COMPLICATED!

Hennie’s parents also took us to the Voortrekker Monument and museum. A museum of the history of Hennie’s people.SO MANY ASIAN TOURISTS!? The great Trek sounded like a bloody, religious battle for the Afrikaaners, which hasn’t really changed at all. People are so matter or fact about the violence here (and are still uber religious)! We hung out with his cousin today and he told us how he had been stabbed last year while someone tried to rob his car! The group just nodded like he was telling us about how much the price of ham was. Everyone has a story of either being attacked, knowing whole families that have been murdered or knowing people that have died in car accidents. It’s creepy. I had always told Hennie I would happily live here but I think he realizes I would be too paranoid too. Everytime I see the cleaner and the gardener meet up in the front yard I am sure they are conspiring. (On a serious note) This is how the hatred starts I imagine. I refuse to be a part of it but the racial hatred in this country is kind of insane. It makes me shocked to see where Hennie has come from and how he has not held onto any of these traits he was so obviously raised with. It’s upsetting everyday. Hennie and I are the only ones that thank any black person that has served us, helped us park, put us through their cash at the supermarket or anything else.  

Ok rant done.

So I watched a whole movie in Afrikaans, I basically know the language. It’s a whole lot of throat noises, with some english words thrown in and facial expressions that make me think I know exactley what’s going on. I have started subconsciously throwing some of the slang into my sentences and Hennie is well impressed. Plus I eat meat like it’s going out of style (I ate meat stuffed with meat yesterday!) so I am an honourary Afrikaaner (minus the racist part). The quote that has summed it up for me was Hennie’s cousin saying “I am not racist at all! I have no problem letting black people into my house…to clean. No problem at all!” I cringed and decided to tuck that back into my pocket for later discussion.

Did anyone else know the President of Nigeria’s name was Goodluck Jonathon? What parent pops out a child and thinks, Good Luck! You will need it…That will be the childs name.

We passed a sign for a gyneocologists yesterday and the name on the sign was DR. WILLIE!! A gyno! Bloody brilliant!

We have been told by a few people that we have to try a South African style sticky toffee pudding. It’s called Mulva. Which rhymes with Vulva. So when we were walking through Woolworths (the top of the line, posh grocery store here) I remembered and yelled to Hennie downt he aisle “Don’t forget the VAGINA CAKE!”

P.S-I have heard Hennie twice now say “back home”, which he has always said about SA, but now he is definitely referring to Canada! Ha ha sucker, I got you! You are Canadian now!

Decided to spend a day working on my Mexi-tan while reading David Sedaris. I think I went a little past mexi-tan and more into the skin cancer zone, but at least I’m now the redest person here and not the whitest.

We went to see a movie! This is 40 to be exact, even though I had already seen it I was glad to be apart of here on it’s opening night. Yup SA, you are a little behind. Wow was that a different experience…was drove there by my sister in law who feels 160km in the dark while giving everyone the finger is the norm, a little awesome, a litle hair raising…got our tickets and we have seat numbers on them! I was like what the what? I cannot choose my perfect location? I am told that there would definitely be fights in the theatre if people did not have assigned seat numbers and low and behold, a fight starts before the movie because someone is sitting in someone elses seat number! What the hell SA! Chill out a little! The other massive issue was that there was NO BUTTER for the popcorn, not even the weird butter tasting oil they usually serve in Canada. No, dry popcorn! The closest thing I got was butter flavoured salt which should have been called “weird tasting salt, NOT BUTTER-LIKE AT ALL.” And then when I was told they do not dispense napkins at movie theatres here I started having a minor nervous breakdown, only to avoided by someone saying they had tissues in their purse. Crisis averted. I am incredibly weird with dirty hands, I’m aware. I would have obsessive compulsively wiped my hand on my pants the whole time untill my pants wore through. I was shocked that 7 people walked out of the movie 3/4 of the way through it. Especially a movie I find so super funny, but I guess it may have been too much for some of our more conservative South Africans…

Saturday was crazy. Watched a nephew’s rugby tournament all day and had the braai to end all braais that night. How, you say? Well, Debbie, Hennie’s cousin who we stayed with last time, has just discovered Jagermesiter and was totaly obsessed with it. I decided to split a bottle with them and blow their minds by making them Florida Track Suits (Jager, Sour Puss & Red Bull). The night is a fog of dancing, singing, shots, eating, and more shots. There were intense rules about drinking water, if someone was busted they had to do shots. When someone was busted, a lot of yelling would insue and I would yell gibberish assuming it was coming out as Afrikaans. Sometimes I would just angrily yell “ya, whatever she said, that is what’s fucking happening!!” We amazingly polished off a whole bottle of Jager, forgot to eat the braai meat and still woke up at 4:30am to convoy to the Pilonesberg National Park! We are rockstars!

Last two Jager shots before heading to the park! Good Morning world!

We had amazing sightings, elephants, cheetahs in pursuit, Wildebeast, Springbok, Hippos, Zebras, Giraffes and LIONS GOING IN FOR THE KILL! My favourite part was someone in another car picking a fight with Hennie for hanging out the window to take pictures of the lions. It’s like, dude, if we want to hang our bodies out of the car in front of hungry lions, like bacon flying in the wind, we should totally be fucking allowed to. So fuck off. 11am, time to crack out the beer from the coolers-woot!

I only sang the Lion King song a lot, called every warthog ‘Pumba’ and thought “this park is where they must have filmed The Lion King!…Holy fuck it was a cartoon, I’m a moron. But if it had been real, it would have been filmed here!”

Well we have officially given up a breakfast and have replaced it with meat. I call them meatsicles. They are either random meats thrown onto a skewer or just droewoers, which in Canada is a pepperette but with dodgier meat. Starbucks coffee and meatsicles. I thought I saw a sign for Starbucks today and may or may not have cried a bit. I was wrong. But I found instant espresso in the grocery store today and hope that will be better then the weird brown coloured water known as coffee here…

Yesterday we had a big family gathering and braai and the debate about rugby started getting really heated. I decided, since I had already drank about 6 beers, that it was time I put my two cents in. I started quietly by asking questions, how many teams are there, where are they from, who cheers for which teams…I decided to make an announcement, I would 100% put my loyalty behind the Blue Bulls, for the main reason that when they say it in Afrikkans it either sounds like Blue Balls or Blow Balls. I said the team might as well have been named penis problems but they were my team. And the people that were cheering for the team from Cape Town were asshole. It would be like people in Ottawa cheering for Toronto…assholes. There was a silence. I feared I may have gone too far. I thought I was about to start a family riot, when someone yelled out “Angie for president!” and everyone laughed. We are hoping to go see the Blue Balls play next weekend, and I look forward to yelling Go Blue Balls at the top of my lungs for a few hours.

Bladerunner update-He is innocent! Everyone here thinks so. It’s totally normal to shoot into a closed door here if it’s thought to be an intruder. I had this same thought last night as I krept to the bathroom after everyone went to sleep. I hoped me peeing on the can would not be how it all ended.

South African road rules-Drive as fast as you fucking can at all times, fuck the crater like potholes, people walking on the side of the road and the fact that the lane is about to end. Just drive like a maniac.

We hung out with Hennie’s parents today, whom are both deaf. They are the sweetest people ever which is why I am concerned when Hennie leaves the room and his Mom says something to me and expects a response. She waves her hands, says something in Afrikaans and I think, come on Ange, figure it out. Don’t just smile and nod because what if she is saying something bad! She once told me a story and I did a thumbs up and smiled only to figure out right after she was telling me how she had slid on the kitchen mat and fell. Like I was some satanic duaghter in law that liked the fact she fell and hurt herself. So now I keep a concerned look on my face until I see her smile or thumbs up and then I know this story has a happy ending.

Well I have fallen so far off the vegetarian wagon, I don’t even remember what vegetables taste like… We went to a restuarant on Monday and I ordered lemon and herb chicken. When the plate came to me it felt like all my alarm bells should be going off, as presented to me on the plate was a whole flattened fucking chicken! I could see how it once resembled a live bird, legs, wings, everything but the bloody feathers. But my vegetarean self has been so turned off that I stuck my head over the railing of the patio, looked at the chickens wandering around and told them I was eating there Mother and it tasted quite good…

Monday night I had a feeling I may not be able to sleep as Hennie and I had drank half a bottle of rum. When we walked into our bedroom and saw 2 cockroaches the size of my thumbs I knew I was not going to sleep a wink. And when you haven’t quite recovered from jet lag every minute of sleep is vital. So the next morning I was a mess. I should have never had two of the Starbucks coffee I had brought (shut up, I am a snob, what of it…they have been a big hit here though and I am sad they are almost gone!). Then I grabbed a local paper to read. WHAT A MISTAKE! I read about the amount of people that get killed on the road we are staying on, which makes total sense. We had already had close calls. The road is narrow, winds around mountains and the average speed is 160 km/h. There are also pot holes the size of Clayton you must avoid. I became a little terrified about ever going on that road again. Then I turned the page and read about all the people that were getting murdered in this area, in their homes. Angry and disgruntled black workers come back to kill their previous white employers. I almost felt exempt from this until I went onto the patio to see the man who works in the gardens laughing hysterically at himself. I waved at him and he looked past me and said something I didn’t understand. I walked into the house to see “the maid” ironing and I thought, omg I hope these two aren’t conspiring against whacking the stupid American visiting them. I had a paranoid morning. I sat inside, drank beer with with my sister in law and watched tv for the rest of the day. By the end of the day I had evened out. I feel I am totaly ok to leave the house today. What adventure will today bring, hopefully a semi safe one?