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| Contents |
Issue No. 348 -- 7 November 2005 |
Editor's Message
Quote/s of the Week
Ad Hoc Article/s of the Week
Bits and Bobs
The Legal Beagle
Help Desk
Where are they now?
Club and Other News
Humour
Recipes
Sports News
Credits and Contact Info
Subscribing and Unsubscribing
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We had lots of rain over the weekend with some spectacular storms. Today is much clearer and cooler, thanks to the much-needed rain.
Check out in the Bits and Bobs section for the article on Mbotyi River Lodge.
And congrats to Des Cowie for her sterling effort in the New York Marathon at the weekend.
Her time was 5 hours 26 minutes and 40 seconds. She came in 30227 overall, 9086 for her gender class and 903 for her age class. Congratulations Des! Hope you got to raise some money for your underprivileged kids.
http://www.ingnycmarathon.org/results/index.php
From what I can see from the results page there were 150 runners running as South Africans. SAW Advertisement
VisitBritain SA and the UK Post Office are giving away a 7 day rendezvous  for you with your friends and family living in the UK. 4 Flight tickets to the UK, accommodation and a whole bag of goodies included. Click here to get your name in the draw!
SAW Advertisement |
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These from me... running quotes in honour of Des!
I have met my hero, and he is me. - George Sheehan
We can't all be heroes because someone has to sit on the curb and clap as they go by. - Will Rogers
The will to win means nothing without the will to prepare. - Juma Ikangaa, Tanzania
Good things come slow - especially in distance running. - Bill Dellinger, Oregon coach
Run hard, be strong, think big! - Percy Cerutty
This from Des Cowie...
The will of God will never take you to where the Grace of God will not protect you. - Unknown
These from Daniel Jan le Roux...
Reality can destroy the dream; why shouldn't the dream destroy reality? - George Moore. English Philosopher one of the fathers of the analytic philosophy. 1873-1958
We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are. -Anais Nin
Send in any quotes you love... that have some special meaning for you... and I will use at least one every week. Usual address! editor@saw.co.za
| Ad Hoc Article/s of the Week |
TOP |
Jay Hirschberg case
This from Mike Preston
To: saemb@emirates.net.ae
Ambassador Moopeloa
South African Embassy UAE
Dear Sir
I have followed, and to some extent been personally involved with, the Jay Hirschberg story, one which reflects poorly on the ability of the South African Police, a government department, to provide a fundamental service which all citizens and residents are entitled to expect.
Crime is a principal preoccupation of all of us who would love to go back to South Africa, and of the media who constantly use crime and the lack of protection therefrom as ammunition against the country and its leaders.
In Jack Hirschberg, you have a loyal citizen who loves his country, and because he is attempting to seek to know that justice has been done correctly in the case of the death of his son, you have apparently threatened him with legal action.
It seems to me that this would have been an opportunity for you to use your powers to ensure that a full investigation be carried out, or to admit that it was bungled if this were the case, and to try even at this late stage to obtain satisfaction for Jay's parents. Instead of using this as an opportunity for positive propaganda for South Africa, your department seems to have misused this opportunity and achieved the opposite.
I look forward to hearing the evolution of Jack's story, and would like to assure you that he has the support and loyalty of many South Africans and others around the world who, like me, are following this story with keen interest and growing disbelief at the apparent callousness and indifference of the authorities.
Yours faithfully
Michael R Preston
-------------
Original Message
Subject: Where is my government?
Ambassador Moopeloa
South African Embassy UAE
Dear Sir,
After much consideration, countless consultations with others, and many sleepless nights since your consul, Mr. Willem Botes called me last week on your behalf, the contents of which have been duly noted, I would respectfully ask you to clarify the following to me:
In what way have I been “Anti-South African Government”?
How have I “incited” people to be Anti-South African government”?
I thought that the ANC government was a democratic government and as such I believed that I was entitled to air my views. Is this now illegal? If so, I was not aware of this.
Why did Mr. Willem Botes tell me that actions were being considered being taken against me and SKOP, the website I publish? What have I and the website done wrong?
Is being “Anti-crime" in South Africa” a criminal offence now days? I thought South Africa was a democratic country.
Mr. Ambassador, I am following what I have learned from the ANC (African National Congress) the ruling party of the South African government. The ANC made the world wake up to apartheid through making the world aware of the situation of the then “apartheid” South Africa.
I am simply following what the ANC did, but this time for proper law and order to be restored in South Africa. Is that too much to ask of my government seeing as my son died there and no answers are forthcoming from the SAPS.
The petition on my website to our President, Mr. Thabo Mbeki is one of support, not anger. Mr. Botes did admit that he had not read the petition. This has also been noted.
I was never a racist in the “old South Africa”. The Nationalist government of the apartheid era made the rules. I had to follow their rules. Today the ANC Government make the rules. I follow these rules. I was not aware that speaking out against the SAPS was a punishable offence.
Today, like thousands of other South Africans of all colours, I am a victim of the “New South Africa”. The new South Africa has no rules that we can see! Many murders, rapes, robberies, hi-jackings etc go unsolved. People cannot get jobs due to preferences being given to certain groups of people. Is this really what the new South Africa is supposed to be? Is this the vision that Madiba had?
Mr. Ambassador, I am trying to bring about awareness to you and your counterparts in our government that this is unacceptable. Surely, you have to agree with me. My son died in South Africa, and as my Ambassador in the UAE, I feel that I would have liked to have trusted you and relied on you, and even more importantly, I have even pleaded with you to get someone to tell me how and why he died. I ended up having to do everything I could on my own. My own country has done nothing for us in solving his death!
Mr. Ambassador, I do realise that by airing my views to you, I am “risking” myself and my future in a foreign land. All I ask you is to leave my wife and family out of this. Notwithstanding the axe hanging over my neck, I would ask you, most respectfully, “what is our country doing for us to get closure of my son’s death”? That is all I want to know. Is that too much to ask?
Mr. Ambassador, you have opened the door on more than one occasion, but you have never invited me in. I have never been made to feel that solving my son's death in our country as being your priority whenever we have met.
Mr. Ambassador. Frankly, you can send me to the new “Robben Island, wherever and whatever that may now be”. My son died in our country and I will not rest until I get answers.
In Martin Luther's word's, "On this rock I stand....."
In closing, "Where is MY government?"
Respectfully yours
Jack Hirschberg
cc.
The Editor, Mr. Tony Metcalf, 7DAYS, UAE
Amalia Christoforou, Carte Blanche, MNet South Africa
Alex Eliseev, The Star, Johannesburg, South Africa
D&K Management Consultants, South Africa
Can you raed tihs?
This from Captain Ken
Can you raed tihs? Olny srmat poelpe can.
cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you
can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.
Amzanig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt!
Light a candle...
This from DanielJan le Roux daniel@thelerouxs.com
This is an interesting site where you can light a candle for any reason you need to or would like to.
http://www.gratefulness.org/candles/enter.cfm
Spotlight On...
Situated in the wilderness area at the mouth of the Mbotyi River, overlooking the warm Indian Ocean lies Mbotyi River Lodge. If you are looking for a get-away-from-it-all break then family-friendly Mbotyi is your answer. If you are a surf or fly fisherman, an avid hiker, a birder, horse rider, swimmer... Mbotyi is an ideal place to experience all the beauty of the Wild Coast.
What it’s like
 Driving down the last few hundred yards after a straight drive from Johannesburg, we saw this huge sandy dune ahead of us. It didn’t look real but it was! We were greeted at reception by a refreshing glass of iced tea and a big smile from the helpful staff. Willing hands helped us unload our luggage and take it to our room. There’s a choice of comfortable thatch bungalows or wooden cabins – all have great sea and lagoon views. We had a deluxe room with air conditioning, a fridge and TV. The room had its own balcony with a great view of the ocean and the lagoon. After we freshened up we went back to reception for a tour of the lodge. There’s a beautiful pool, children’s activity room, a long bar and a games room, situated adjacent to the dining room, that has awesome views of the Mbotyi beach and river mouth.
 All meals are provided (not easy to slip out for takeaway!) and the cuisine is nourishing English- style fare. Breakfasts include fresh fruit, yoghurts, cereals, toasts as well as a range of cooked dishes. Lunches are a tasty interlude of salads, pastas and lighter fare or if you decide to go out hiking or fishing for the day you can take a picnic. Dinners feature generously portioned four-course meals with a choice of main course. And there’s a wide variety of dishes to suit every palate, from seafood to steaks, from casseroles to wonderful chicken selections, soups and starters as well as desserts. Each day’s menu is printed out so you can see what is on offer. I was extremely impressed that the chef catered for my special dietary requirements (vegan) and I even got my own menu each day!
What can you do
 More a case of what can’t you do! Relax on the fine sandy beaches or hike along stunning trails to view seven magnificent waterfalls... fly fish or swim in the warm ocean… if you are feeling relaxed you can have an experienced river guide paddle you up the Mbotyi river and check out bird life and indigenous vegetation. There are 4x4 trails (my first experience going up a very steep cliff... and the view from the top was soooo worth seeing!), bike trails, horse trails, tour the local tea plantation, walking trails and whale and dolphin viewing (another first for me to see huge tails rising up out of the water and smack down onto the sea surface time and time again!)
 We only had a weekend so it was difficult to decide what we wanted to do. We did quite a bit in our short first visit (of course we’ll be back for a longer stay... how could we not?) and we went for a walk along the beach in the late afternoon after our arrival, dipping our toes in the warm water. I was very happy that the humidity levels were low and that the whole area is malaria free. No screens on the windows of the chalets and I don’t think I saw a mosquito the whole time we were there. We decided to relax on our first full day so we only got up at six instead of our usual Johannesburg rising hour of five. After a wonderful breakfast we relaxed with our books, looking out at the peaceful ocean from the balcony outside the dining room.
After a filling lunch we met our river guide and off we went for our guided canoe ride along the river. I felt very lazy having someone else do the rowing... but we were on holiday so I quickly relaxed and stopped feeling like I ought to be doing something instead of just taking in the peace and tranquillity of the lagoon and river.
 Our guide was extremely knowledgeable (she told us she trained for eighteen months before she was qualified) and pointed out various birds and trees as we slowly coasted along. Local children swimming and playing along the river banks smiled and waved as we passed.
Dinner was a seafood buffet which my husband said was delicious – he went back for seconds! – and did I tell you about the wine cellar? A great choice of extremely well-priced wines.
 We were up early the next day as we had planned to go on a 28 km hike to see a waterfall. Our local guide carried our picnic brunch in his backpack and off we went. It turned out to be the hottest day for some time and there wasn’t even a breath of wind to help cool us down. We got about two thirds of the way there and I realised it was too hot for me to continue as the sun was getting hotter and there was no shade. We sat and ate our brunch in the shade of a tree and a rock pool... the last ‘oasis’ on the way to the waterfall... and then began our way back to the lodge. We managed about 14 kms so I didn’t feel too bad.
We spent the rest of the day relaxing sitting on the deck and whale watching while enjoying a cold refreshing beer. Another great dinner followed (good think I had done all that hiking to wear off some of the calories!) and then off to bed with the soothing sound of the ocean in the background. All too soon it was Monday and time for our journey back. We decided to follow the coast on our return journey as we had come down via an inland route. We said our goodbyes and know we will be back soon. On our next visit we are going to fly to Margate and get collected there by the Mbotyi bus.
Although we were only there for a weekend we felt so relaxed when we got back. Must be the Mbotyi magic!
Christmas holidays are one of their busier times... but I heard a whisper that there are still bookings available if you hurry!
How to get there
Mbotyi is situated 26 kms from Lusikisiki and the road is easily accessible by motor car. You can also fly in from East London on the neighbouring tea plantation plane. The lodge is about three hours from Port Edward. Prices range from R385 per person and include all meals. Overall, Mbotyi is a great value-for-money getaway.
http://www.southafrica.co.za/spotlight_on_86.html
Mind Massage
What a week! Tom and I had a fantastic time in Nova Scotia visiting our oldest daughter.
We flew back on Halloween night, arriving back in Mazatlan at dawn on the Day of the Dead. It's been a perfect way to segue into the Mexican perspective on life--and death.
Here's a look at joyful "mourning"...
Warmly, Maya
Mindfulness and Memorials: Celebrating the Day of the Dead
This is the first year I've been in Mexico during the traditional Day of the Dead festivities, but I knew it would be a fascinating celebration of the lives of lost loved ones.
A few years ago, my youngest brother took his own life at the age of 39. He had battled depression his whole life, and I couldn't bear the thought of his "memory" being ensconced in a dark, lonely place likely to receive few visitors.
So, I took some of his ashes and brought them down to Mazatlan, setting them afloat in the sea during a beautiful sunset. I wasn't living here then, but I figured that if there is an afterlife, and if spirits of the dearly departed do venture back to partake of festivities in their honor, then Mexico is a pretty perfect resting place.
You see, each year during the Day of the Dead holiday, families create altars in memory of their loved ones. The idea is to present many of the favorite items of the deceased so that their spirit will want to come back for the party.
Altars become the centerpiece in living rooms, courtyards, store windows, plazas, and in many corners of every neighborhood. Photos, flowers, favorite foods, beloved items, and of course, the living relatives are gathered together in a joyous celebration of life. There are parades. There is dancing. You can hear fireworks and singing everywhere.
How could a spirit resist?
Unlike the dreaded yearly visits I remember making to the family gravestones on Memorial Day as a child, children here grow up looking forward to the Day of the Dead as a happy time. There's no solemn silence or quiet mourning--that happens early on. After the initial grieving period, the focus shifts toward the celebration of life and making an effort to include the departed in the joyous annual event.
You can buy special bread with sugar skeleton heads, and it's considered auspicious instead of creepy when friends give you a gift of a tiny coffin with your name on it.
The Day of the Dead is an opportunity to be mindful of the things we loved about those we've lost, and it gives us a chance to recognize this big ol' circle of life.
Some might like to be honored in a quiet, dignified way. Not me.
When I die, I hope my friends and family will make an altar with my favorite silly photos, lots of dark chocolate, a bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream, fragrant fresh flowers in every color, glass beads in gorgeous hues, tons of flickering scented candles, and vivid little paintings and hilarious haiku created by my wonderful husband, children and (I hope) grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Everyone would wear a crazy hat.
There should be plenty of fresh fruit and all kinds of spicy foods from around the world for my loved ones to enjoy. They'll play music from a dozen countries, and stay up all night dancing and laughing. At dawn, they will plant a tree in my memory and offer a toast with fresh-squeezed orange juice, after which they will play kazoos while listening to "Louie Louie" before going off to bed...
Louie Louie, oh no
Me gotta go
Aye-yi-yi-yi, I said
Louie Louie, oh baby
Me gotta go
Fine little girl waits for me
Catch a ship across the sea
Sail that ship about, all alone
Never know if I make it home
Louie Louie, oh no
Me gotta go
Aye-yi-yi-yi, I said
Louie Louie, oh baby
Me gotta go
Three nights and days I sail the sea
Think of girl, constantly
On that ship, I dream she's there
I smell the rose in her hair.....
Now that's a party I wouldn't miss for anything.
Your Secret Assignment: Me Gotta Go
It's not macabre to think about how you would like to be remembered. In fact, it's an excellent mindfulness exercise.
Here's your special assignment for this week: be aware of the things you love about living on this planet, and compile a list of items you would like to be included if your loved ones were to create an altar honoring you and your life.
Pay attention to what delights you. How would YOU like to be celebrated?
I'd love to hear your list! Send it to me at:
Maya@MassageYourMind.com
Mindfulness 101 Responses
Hoo-boy! I received nearly 100 responses from subscribers after last week's article, "Mindfulness 101: Should Meditation Be Taught In College?"
The vast majority of you agreed with me that mindfulness techniques--though not necessarily meditation--should be taught at a very early age.
Many felt that college is a perfect place to offer mindfulness training courses, but NOT for academic credit.
A number of you suggested that any truly mindful university administration would make sure that a simple course in meditation (like Jon Kabat-Zinn's Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction program) is offered on an ongoing basis FREE to all students throughout the school year.
Oh, and one university professor teaching meditation unsubscribed, saying that meditation remained a viable course well worth the $4000 price tag.
Okay.
If you missed the article, you can read it at:
http://www.Real-WorldMindfulness.com/mindfulness101.htm
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Maya Talisman Frost has taught thousands of people how to pay attention. Through her company, Real-World Mindfulness Training, she offers playful and powerful eyes-wide-open ways to get calm, clear and creative. To receive her free special report, 'The Dirty Little Secret About Meditation,' visit her website at MassageYourMind.com
(C) Copyright 2005, Maya Talisman Frost
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Beliefnet – An angel in the night
With the long, dark winter finally behind us, a brisk March wind ushered in spring--and on its heels, an angel in the night came to live with us.
By Diana Johnson
A sudden gust of wind caught the bottom of his coat as my husband, Forrest, carefully tucked Lauren, the youngest of our five children, into the baby's car seat. The wind was unusually bad, making our short drive to the airport difficult. From the passenger's seat, I watched as Forrest's knuckles gripped the top of the steering wheel. He fought to keep our minivan from drifting into the next lane. It seemed a fitting metaphor to describe the past year--a real white-knuckle ride!
Our youngest twins, Lauren and Branden, were born eight weeks premature. Within minutes of her birth, Lauren, the smaller of the two, had stopped breathing. In the hospital, I watched in horror as her tiny pink lips turned blue. She was quickly resuscitated, whisked off to the neonatal intensive care unit, and placed on a ventilator. Branden didn't fare much better. A month later, Lauren and Branden, both on apnea monitors, came home to meet their brother and sisters. The older twins, Brianna and little Forrest, were three, and Taylor was two. We quickly established a routine. Within weeks, we were ready to welcome yet another new member of the family, Zeke. We didn't think that our family would be complete without a dog! So we were on our way on this windy night to bring him home.
At the airport, I leaned over to Forrest and whispered, "What if it doesn't work out? Zeke's two years old and probably set in his ways. What if he can't adjust?"
"The breeder was sure he would, Diana," Forrest reminded me.
I had searched long and hard for a responsible collie breeder before I found Susan. After I explained that we have five children--two with serious health problems--she wisely steered us away from a puppy.
"Diana," Susan said when I called her, "I have a two-year-old champion collie. Zeke will be perfect for your family. He's a beautiful tricolor and a true collie in every sense. He loves life, and he especially loves children."
Even though I had my heart set on having a puppy, with Susan's recommendation, I agreed to give Zeke a try.
Now my thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched squeal. "Zeke's here!" announced Brianna. An attendant ushered us to a large crate, where I saw a long nose pushed up against the wire with a mass of ebony and white fur behind it. After speaking a few reassuring words to Zeke, I nodded to the attendant and said, "We're ready."
Zeke inched his way out, looking cautious yet curious. Within seconds, my animal lover Brianna threw her tiny arms around Zeke's neck, buried her face in his long fur, and murmured, "I love you, Zeke." Little Forrest added, "We're your new family. Welcome home!"
Zeke quickly settled in to his new life with us. We arranged his bed in the master bedroom. But right from the start, Zeke made it clear that he preferred sleeping in the nursery between the babies' cribs. There was barely room to move with five oxygen canisters, a suction machine, and all of the other medical equipment in the room. But the nurse who helped us care for the twins didn't mind, so I decided to let Zeke stay with her and the infants.
One night, about three weeks after his arrival, Zeke jumped up on my side of the bed and thwacked me with his paw. I glanced at the clock; it was 3:30 a.m. "Go back to sleep, Zeke," I murmured. Zeke refused to take no for an answer. Instead, he ran barking back and forth between my side of the bed and the door.
"Shhhhh...you'll wake the children," I chided as I got up, thinking he probably had to go out. I headed to the back door, but Zeke wouldn't follow. Barking, he turned and ran in the opposite direction.
"Zeke, come," I called. Annoyed, I shuffled down the hall after him into the nursery. Why isn't he listening? I wondered. "Zeke, come," I called again. It's useless, I thought and resigned myself to the fact that I would just need to lead him out by his collar. I watched as Zeke jumped up with his paws on Lauren's crib rail. I placed two fingers under his collar and casually glanced down at Lauren. Oh my God! She's not breathing!
I yanked Lauren's lifeless body from the crib as I screamed, "Forrest, call 911!" The baby hung in my arms like a rag doll. I frantically blew the first rescue breath past her blue lips. Her saliva tasted salty as it mingled with the tears streaming down my face. Suddenly, I heard a choking sound. I quickly turned Lauren over to clear her airway. When I turned her back toward me, she started to cry. "She's breathing!" I exclaimed, relief flooding my body.
"Why didn't the monitor go off?" Forrest asked the nurse. After examining the monitor more closely, Forrest had his answer. He turned to the nurse and said, "The wires are crossed." Furious, I punched the nursing agency number into the phone while we waited for the ambulance to arrive. Within minutes, we were given a new nurse. When the paramedics arrived, they checked Lauren over. "She looks like she's doing fine now," one of them said. "You got to her just in time." At the hospital the next morning, Lauren was given a battery of tests. There was no permanent damage. Thank God! It was a miracle. Exhausted and relieved, we took Lauren home. Zeke greeted us at the front door.
"Zeke, what would we have done without you?" I asked.
I carried Lauren, who had fallen asleep in the car, into the nursery. Zeke followed closely behind and watched as I laid Lauren in her crib. Satisfied that she was fine, Zeke contentedly plopped onto the rug in his usual spot next to Lauren's crib.
Forrest turned to me and asked, "Do you think the baby will be all right?"
I glanced at Zeke and replied, "She'll be fine."
Ramblings Of A Francophobe
France is supposed to be a first world country, and in many ways it has the infrastructure of one. Despite this it is totally hampered and brought down to third world levels by appalling bureaucracy, lack of competitive spirit, and a Napoleonic way of doing things. Referring to it as 'socialist' or ‘communist’ is simplistic but there are many parallels with life in the old Commie block states of Eastern Europe. The terrible protectionism which hampers competition makes life here horribly frustrating. Why, for example, to cite my current battle, should it be so difficult to change Internet providers, when they lock you into termination clauses and penalties making it almost impossible to switch providers. After a particularly bad spell with my current ISP, and three consecutive days of being unable to contact their ‘support’ line, unanswered emails, and frustration, I wrote to give notice on the contract., Within days, I had a grovelling phone call promising me the earth if I reconsidered. I didn’t, but can only hope that the next provider will be better. The reality is that they might not be.
Last weekend I went to the UK. There were three flights to UK leaving within 20 minutes of each other, plus at least one other international departure, so perhaps close to 500 people. A queue stretching halfway across the terminal and back again. 25 minutes standing in queue. One passport official on duty. This is a fairly normal situation and one I am told the airport authorities have taken up with the Police (who provide the passport officials), and who refuse to do anything.
I could probably live with that if it were real security, if they were checking passports, and if the process made us safer. Our passports are all in leather covers, and as I handed them towards him he waved me through without even looking inside - the covers could in fact have been empty. Is this security?
The seats in the departure zone are filthy, grime encrusted, and tatty. Not surprising when you see how people use them. I saw one man in a suit sitting there picking his feet in full view of everyone. You might expect this in third world countries, but it fits uncomfortably with the image that the French would like to project of themselves as suave, sophisticated and cultured. How do I know this man was French? I don’t, but although this would not stand up in a court of law, I’d say he was on the basis that he was reading a French newspaper and swore at me in French when I made a remark in English to my companion about such foul behaviour.
Non smoking zones are treated as a joke, and our local airport, supposedly the gateway to one of the world's prime tourist areas, is pathetic in terms of service delivery, but then, this is France.
Once in UK, we headed for Liverpool, home of the famously friendly and witty ‘Scousers’ and their somewhat incomprehensible accent. It’s a vibrant city with a great deal of culture and history, and a restored docklands area with much of interest to the visitor. For me, the outstanding feature is the Beatles’ Story, an animated reconstruction of the history of this iconic group from its beginnings, through the loss of two of its members, to the present day. Visitors are provided with a headset through which they can listen, on demand, to explanations and in many cases, recordings of the characters themselves, appropriate to each of the 50 or so sections of the exhibition. The average time from start to finish is an hour and a half but you could easily spend longer there, especially if you chose to browse in the shop at the end of the visit. I think it says much for this Museum that my 10 year old son found it even more fun than Liverpool Football Club, of which more later.
The Albert Dock, the largest group of Grade 1 listed buildings in the UK, also hosts an excellent Maritime Museum, the Liverpool Tate Gallery, shops, restaurants, and coffee bars, all in a picturesque and safe setting, close to the Mersey Pierhead, point of departure for the famous Mersey Ferries. It is a few minutes walk from the Royal Liver Buildings (pronounced with a long ‘I’, as in high, rather than a short ’I’ as in ‘big’) and the imposingly massive Liverpool Cathedral.
From the Docks, we headed to Liverpool Football Club, the famous Anfield, where I’d pre-booked a Stadium Tour as a treat for my football-mad son. This is a passion he certainly did not inherit from me, as I loathe all forms of sport, football in particular, and intended to sleep in the car while he did the tour with his mother. At the last minute, caught up in the enthusiasm of the other people there, I decided to do the tour. Our guide took us first into the seating area known as ‘The Kop’ and I wondered how it came to have that name. He explained that the area was previously known as Oakfield Road Embankment, but was renamed Spion Kop in 1906 after the battle of the same name. Spion Kop was the hill in South Africa where the Boers, in January 1900, inflicted a heavy defeat on the British army in 1900. Many of the men killed were from the North West so the memorial was appropriate. Other British football clubs also renamed terraces after Spion Kop, such as St Andrews in Birmingham and Hillsborough in Sheffield.
After learning about this South African connection, I enjoyed the rest of the tour even more, through the changing rooms, the TV interview area, and going through the tunnel, touching the famous ‘This is Anfield’ sign, before emerging into the stadium to the recorded cheers of 45,000 fans. We even saw one or two important club officials, as this was the day before Liverpool beat Belgium’s Anderlecht in a UEFA cup match.
The next morning after a hurried session of retail therapy, we flew out of Liverpool, a neat and efficient airport where the friendly and helpful attitude of the staff made a pleasant change from the norm. The airport was uncrowded and the areas we used were clean and tidy. I would certainly use this airport again for trips to the North West or even Midlands, in preference to Manchester.
We had a very comfortable night before departure at the Marriott Hotel (Liverpool South) which is the old terminal building and control tower. The original art-deco style has been tastefully and beautifully restored to the highest standards, and the service and facilities are top class. At about £100/night for a double with breakfast, it's good value. The hotel is 5 minutes by car or free transfer from the airport, and also has a shopping area two minutes walk away, with PC World, M&S, WHS, Next, Boots, Currys, etc.
The whole experience reminded me how much friendlier the English are in the north of their little island than their southern counterparts. Nevertheless, if you really want to find unfriendly people, then head further south still, to the French coast, and keep going until you get to the South Eastern corner of that country where they have perfected the art of the artificial smile which disappears, to replaced by the knife in the back, as soon as they have your money in their hand. Someone, and I’m sad to say it wasn’t me, wrote that the only time they are pleasant to you is when they are trying to get their hands into your wallet or your pants. Sadly, it’s largely true and it’s a shame that such a beautiful area is populated by so many people who, although they make their living from the foreigners, are so unpleasant towards them and simply regard them as walking wallets. One day they might waken to the fact that were it not for foreign investment, they’d still be looking at donkeys' backsides as they ploughed their fields. Many would argue the benefits of that, and I’m not sure that I would disagree!
Tot siens
MIKE
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Cat joke23.jpg)
This from our virtual office cat, Webster
The bachelor and his cat
A bachelor who lived at home with his mother and pet cat went on a trip to Europe. Before he left he told his best friend to inform him of any emergencies.
A few days after his departure, his cat climbed up on the roof, fell off and was killed. His friend immediately wired him with the message: "Your cat died!"
In a few hours he was back home, having cut short his trip in grief and anger at his friend, whom he told "Why didn't you break the news to me gradually? You know how close I was to my cat! You could have sent a message 'Your cat climbed up on the roof today', and the next day you could've written, 'Your cat fell off the roof' and let me down slowly that he died."
After a quick memorial service, the bachelor left again to continue his trip. A few days later he returned to his hotel and there was a message waiting for him from his friend. It read, "Your mother climbed up on the roof today."
Old Age Humour
This from DanielJan Le Roux
At 85 years of age, Morris, a very rich man, married Lou Anne, a lovely and beautiful 26 year old.
Since her new husband is so old, Lou Anne decides that after their wedding she and Morris should have separate bedrooms, because she is concerned that her new but aged husband may overexert himself if they spend the entire night together.
After the wedding festivities Lou Anne prepares herself for bed and the expected "knock" on the door. Sure enough the knock comes, the door opens and there is Morris, her 85 year old groom ready for action.
They unite as one...All goes well, Morris leaves his bride, and she prepares to go to sleep.
After a few minutes, Lou Anne hears another knock on her bedroom door, and it's Morris. Again he is ready for more "action."
Somewhat surprised, Lou Anne consents for more coupling. When the newlyweds are done, Morris kisses his bride, bids her a fond goodnight and leaves.
She is set to go to sleep again, but, aha you guessed it - Morris is back again, rapping on the door, and is as fresh as a 25-year-old, ready for more "action." And, once again they enjoy each other.
But as Morris gets set to leave again, his young bride says to him, "I am thoroughly impressed that at your age you can perform so well and so often. I have been with guys less than a third of your age who were only good once. You are truly a great lover, Morris."
Morris, somewhat embarrassed, turns to Lou Anne and says: "You mean I was here already?"
The moral of the story: Don't be afraid of getting old... memory loss has its advantages!
Not sure if I have given you this recipe before... but I made them again over the weekend and they are really tasty (as well as being healthy!). They also freeze well and will thaw out in a lunch box by breakfast or lunch time.
Banana Oat Muffins
1 ½ cups all-purpose flour (or half whole-wheat)
1 cup rolled oats
½ cup white sugar (can use brown)
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt (I left this out)
1 egg (or 1 heaped Tbl ground flaxseeds mixed with ¼ cup water and allowed to stand for five minutes)
¾ cup milk (or soy milk)
1/3 cup vegetable oil (can use applesauce for lower fat version)
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup mashed bananas (about three bananas)
Directions
Combine flour, oats, sugar, baking powder, soda, and salt.
In a large bowl, beat the egg lightly. Stir in the milk, oil, and vanilla. Add the mashed banana, and combine thoroughly. Stir the flour mixture into the banana mixture until just combined. Spray a 12-cup muffin tin with Spray and Cook or equivalent and divide the batter among them. The muffin tins will be quite full.
Bake at 400 degrees F (205 degrees C) for 18 to 20 minutes. I found at Johannesburg altitude I needed the full 20 minutes but check your oven after about 15 minutes.
SA has joined global calendar
With pressure building up in London to see who hosts the 2011 Rugby World Cup, Danny Jordaan and other sport leaders are addressing a major sport conference in London this week.
Kaplan sets Test record
Top South African referee Jonathan Kaplan will break his country's referee's record when he blows the whistle in the Ireland versus New Zealand Test in Dublin on November 12.
South Africa to try out spin trio
South Africa have called up three spin bowlers for the one-day series in India later this month. Robin Peterson and Justin Ontong have been recalled to the squad, along with uncapped Johan Botha.
Smith leads Proteas' ODI revival
A year ago, South Africa couldn't beat a credible opponent in one-day cricket. Now they head to India for a five-match series as the world's second-ranked team behind Australia after an unbeaten run of 19 matches, which includes 12 straight wins.
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