Global Kim

Sequel?

Our server is down and we can't do a thing, so here's as good a
time as any for a catch up...

It's been forever since you've heard news, somehow getting
the UK Visa and returning from South Africa (in May) to properly 'settle' here
changes the equation slightly. Here's algebra for you:

x = (swet) + (sma) x (m)2.......

(Subtract wide-eyed tourist), add (serious mental adjustment), multiply by
(mindshift)...

More a scientific equation. Not Chernobyl in size,
but with fall-out in the form of vague Lifestyle Formation, the Need
to Define Interests, and an attempt at Selective Planning...

And 'x'?

'x' merely marks the spot ;-)

Saffirs
pointed out when I first arrived that the enthusiasm to keep in touch with everyone at the
start of the London Experience (or any experience) wans at some
point. People don't become any less special, life just becomes more...
lived.

After a year in a city of such variety and hardly doing the same things
twice it feels strange, but in retrospect is hardly surprising, to be at a
loss for answers to simple questions: What magazines do you read? What do
you like to cook? Whats your favourite type of food? Where do you go out?
What type of music do you listen to? ...

There's dischord between the layers you've always known and the ones you're getting to know.

...Re: the answers to those questions... the process of elimination continues. Varied
influences means exposure to volumes. Sifting so much, it's impossible to notice what you've captured as a long term influence... I wish I knew.

Anyway. Work remains same. Have 5 year working visa and for the forseeable
future should be happy in our company.

Recent interests include hunting travel deals and weekends - Amsterdam,
Barcelona and Prague are booked. As are flights to Oktoberfest in Munich.
Roll the dice. Hunt the deal. Suffer the budget :-)

There was a wedding in Belgium in June - French affair, exquisite food.
Brussels is beautiful. Was temporarily seduced by a language but since
decided to stick to the country that seduced me first - ignore the French allure, Spanish it will remain.

London in summer is full of life and experiences - from The
Proms and Physical Theatre, to Brazilian dancing and outdoor films. The mass
'park picnic' phenomenon is something never done in South Africa, and a
beautiful way to pass summer evenings in front of live performances.

Latest food fascination: Artichokes. Dull by European standards, supposedly
seductive by Italian. I haven't eaten frogs legs yet. And I hear
snails in Nigeria are the size of your fist.

Is anyone else alarmed that when I travel next year, I'm at peace with the
thought of ordering dog if it's on the menu?

Recent changes include finally moving from Richmond and aquiring 1) a faster
commute to work 2) better access to transport in every direction 3) new
housemates and whatever they come with! 4) new areas to explore 5) more time at home thanks to point 1 and 2... The ripple effect remains to be seen.

The 'settling in' continues and a bigger kitchen means starting on the answer
to at least one of those earlier questions - expect a supper
invite sometime, or better yet invite yourself?

Thats really all from me. I think the length of this makes up for
the lack of contact in the past while. It's really a brief mention of so many things that constitute life here. Can you comprehend how quickly this
year has passed? Harrods opened their Xmas display room yesterday... I still can't gel the start and the end of a month...

I hope you are all well. You get plenty of thought when I'm gazing out of whichever mode of transport it is at the
time.....

Nuttin but love and a hug my size....

Kim
xx

Visiting Home: South Africa and Route 62

'Route 62 is one of the most beautiful travel routes in South Africa as well as one of the least known and least travelled ones'.

After a relaxing long weekend in Cape Town we headed back to Port Elizabeth on the equally relaxing drive home via Route 62.

'Ever changing colours of the majestic mountains, scenic passes, rivers, vineyards and orchards, as well as the multitude of attractions, will offer you an unforgettable adventure'.. er, not QUITE but you get the point

Luckily Lindie and Steve appreciate the beauty of South Africa just as much, and I thank them for choosing the road-less-travelled for the sake of hungry eyes, camera and soul.

'Time and again the road leads over steep passes, which open up to spectacular views of the wide land.'

I love this part of South Africa. All parts, really. But THIS part...It's real - vast, earthy, barren... Hot and dry by day, cold and brittle by night... Solitude stretches from one side of the horizon to the other and rolls across the plain to meet you.

Pretension doesn't exist here, a word dragged to tatters between the branches of a Doring Boom (Thorn Tree) and bleached pale by the sun.

Karroo land displays conflicting emotions of nature more starkly than others. Mountains stab the sky with a twisted physical presence and are soothed into plains further into the drive.

White mist whisps of a cold front claw their way over the mountain range, a barrier separating desert scrub from the lush coastline of the Garden Route for 500km or more.

This is a lovers curse, this land of heat and shimmer. Poised for the touch of moisture, the clouds steaming over the top never reach to embrace the plains below.

But patience has an expiry date, and frustration boils into a bitter lovers quarrel of thunder and lightning. Hell hath no fury like a sky scorned. 

For the rest of the time the Karroo is a giant sigh. Sitting quietly you can hear it...

Coming from Oudtshoorn, you enjoy a scenic drive through the Outeniqua Mountains and reach the Garden Route at George, unless you choose to stay on the Route 62 and go via De Rust and Uniondale on to Port Elizabeth.

And thats where you wake from reverie. With a feeling that you recognised something on that road. Or maybe it recognised you...

It beckons with a whisper that lingers and speaks of seasons of thirst and quench, and journeying into dust and mountains ...

Visiting home: 7 Maritz Street Summerstrand

Piano... I miss piano music... hearing, playing, feeling it.

Paused over keys in a music shop in Manchester last year, there's a force of attraction - a whole world to explore with some patience and flexible finger work.

Before that moment there was another - an old man in the corner of a coffee shop playing his saxaphone to a baby in the pram next to his table. A private audience for a personalised performance. She was mesmerised.

A great photo and excellent moment: Black man grooving a tune for baby.   

I thought that day that sometime in my life, I would like to busk. For a moment, a carefree afternoon. Love an instrument, learn it, share it. Busk. Somewhere. Anywhere. Europe is full of performances and woven with musical ambience.

Maybe a violin, or a saxaphone. Trumpet was given up years ago and I miss it, but thats not a busking instrument.

Our piano sits downstairs and has seen all three daughters and my mom at various stages of learning or remembering. My sister has proved the most loyal - Lynsey, the delicate petal, is just as delicate with the ivories.

Visiting Home: Enter Johannesburg

Arrive: 09:00. Exit airport: 11:30. Delivered to Cell C building and central Johannesburg: 12:00. 1 x lunchtime to myself + time to wander.

First leisure moment: Neslon Mandela Square - Sandton City Shopping Centre. On the stairs with South African Kentucky Fried Chicken (so subtly different from the British). Shifting with the sun while the shadows stretch... shoes off, sunnies on.

Feel: Pale. Tired. Overwhelmed. Peaceful. Homely. Alien.

South Africa bustling past on a Friday afternoon, oblivious to this assaulted mind and my examination - how many sensations can you absorb at once? Which way to turn to soak up more? 

Scrutiny arrested by memories. They surface everywhere, uncivilised. No queue, no order - take a number, have a seat, the doctor will be with you shortly...

Sandton City is the hub of Johannesburg. Big business, budgets, cars, ego's, facades. Polished professionalism. Proud. 2 Minutes of waiting for Lesley in the lobby of her office and it all comes back to me - lingo: 'Chow doll', 'Bye chommie', 'Sharp Sharp' (Shaaahp Shaaahp).

Extroadi-NARILY multi-cultural. Lifestyles in every corner of the country immersed in their stages of development. Third world, first world, and all the degrees inbetween manifested in living, loving, thinking, doing...

12 official languages. One plucks lingo and phrases from the other and the seeds fall from the tongue to spawn a hybrid tree always in flower.

Johannesburg has beautiful African women. Pristine, polished... not a 'Patience' or a 'Miriam' - these are 'Thembi's' and 'Nolovuyo's' with chin raised and shoulders back, pride and unaccepting of prejudice.

Johannesburg breathes opportunity for those who rise up to meet it.

I've forgotten what spacious offices are like. Foyers generous in size, quads majestic. Or is it just less people to fill space than in London?

Time to sit outside and listen to a smoke break. The heat lingers, fills and sorrounds outdoor architecture and design like liquid in a glass, with the throb like the glow of a halo.

Innocent African heat. 'Who me? Exhausting you? You must be mistaken...'

Maupassant on marriage

"Now listen carefully: Marriage, to me, is not a chain but an association. I must be free, entirely unfettered, in all my actions - my coming and my going; I can tolerate neither control, jealousy, nor criticism as to my conduct. I pledge my word, however, never to compromise the name of the man I marry, nor to render him ridiculous in the eyes of the world. But that man must promise to look upon meas an equal, an ally, and not as an inferior, or as an obedient, submissive wife. My ideas, I know, are not like those of other people, but I shall never change them." (from Bel Ami, 1885)

Poetry - Korea

Back to Heaven  by Chŏn Sang-pyŏng

I'll go back to heaven again.

Hand in hand with the dew

that melts at a touch of the dawning day,

I'll go back to heaven again.

With the dusk, together, just we two,

at a sign from a cloud after playing on the slopes

I'll go back to heaven again.

At the end of my outing to this beautiful world

I'll go back and say: It was beautiful. . . .

Puzzle building

It all comes together... parallel perspective from random reading...

• ' Trinity' is a period novel about Ireland in the 1850's, a birthday gift (thanks Scrivener).

Jan saw our road trip through southern Ireland. Quick family tree research fortified by this book, and I was familiar with the details of the potato famine (1850 onwards). It seems that my irish great-great-great-grandparents arrived in SA at that time, and due to those events.

• 'Cosa Nostra' is the autobiography of the Sicilian Mafia (thanks Gareth).

It plots the the mindset and development of the Sicilian mafia... which started with Lemon Trees in Sicily: in 1860 lemons were in demand, since they were the best way to keep scurvy at bay and the world was taking to water like never before. Lemon trees take 7 years to reach maturity and another 7 years for them to become profitable. Sicily was one of the only places where there was a ready supply for growing demand... quick money, intimidation for land etc.

• Maupassant (french writer) in his short story refers to Parisians having to resort to eating cats and rats at one time when the Prussian war was at its peak

The idea of Parisians having to do this in light of their modern day haughty and elevated attitude caught my attention. This was the 1870's. I have yet to read about it properly, but no doubt will.

So, in considering world trends in the 1900's, it seems all types of things were happening in Europe.

And when thinking of them as singular events, some feel older and more 'historic' than others. And yet they were all pretty much on the same parallel, or there and there abouts...

Pass more pieces of this puzzle. Who needs the picture on the box...?

Lusting for literature

Reading the short stories of Herman Charles Bosman, a South African writer from the 1900's. Dad had the Bosman audio tapes, narrated by SA actor Patrick Mynhardt. I remember listening to the dramatic whispers and whistful monologues when I was young.

Dad also bought the collection of Bosman stories for my mom. A big book, the type that attracted me because it was heavy and felt relevant and bigger than I was. A piece of grown up world that if I couldn't relate to it, at least I could carry it around and page through it in what I hoped was a knowleadgable way.

I read them, and even the pictures hinted that these were not your average boring writings.

Being a child is frustrating when you know there's perspective in your hands that only time will help you to put into context. No amount of examining the words would help, but it's nice to pretend and I remember that I did.

So 15? 16? years later, I've come full circle to meet with Herman Charles again.

And this time I realise I not only have the perspective, but my South African roots which gift me to revel in these African flavoured musings more than I otherwise may have.

Herman Charles is like being enthralled in sly converstion with a wise old friend.

I hadn't thought about Bosman in years. This all started with an introduction to Maupassant 2 weeks ago, a French writer of short stories (born 1850, published 1875 onwards). His works are poigniant, subtle, prying... Its a pleasure to be afforded a view of the life and times of his subjects, and the view is of everyday France during that time.

I'm addicted to the style, the descriptions, the eloquence, the insight.

I wanted to return the favour with a worthy introduction from my side, and Herman Charles came to mind... even more perfect, since it so strongly relates to the country that I come from.

I ordered it, but have been unable to bring myself to part with it yet...

Being immersed in Europe affords the opportunity for chance meetings with all sorts of influences that cast ripples across the pond of the mind... it's lovely to have that surface disturbed, and I'm hungry for more gems.

Korean Poetry

Flower  by Kim Ch¡¯un-su

Before I spoke his name

he was simply

one set of gestures, nothing more.

Then I spoke his name,

he came to me

and became a flower.

Just as I spoke his name,

I hope that someone will speak my name,

one right for my color and perfume.

I long to go to him

and become his flower.

We all of us

long to become something.

You for me, and I for you,

we long to become a never-to-be-forgotten gaze.

Is your glass half empty or half full?

Forrest Gump had it all wrong. 

Life is NOT a box of chocolates.

Life is like a box heaped full of boxes... of boxes of chocolates.

*A comment on a recent and disappointing chocolate hunting experience:

There is nothing Swiss-cliche about Geneva. Chose to step into one of only a few curio-trinket shops to recall the elements of this cliche: cow bells, pocket knives, watches, clocks. I've heard cheese and fondue, also. Hunted the town for 4 hours on Tues to try and find Swiss chocolate, to no avail. Only success was slabs at local cafes. What's going on here? Belgium is teeming with gorgeous chocolate delicacies and seduces you with cocoa experiences at every turn. Geneva is clean and composed, the character extends to a dusting of spanish balconies on a few less-severely german style buildings... And the fondue restaurant I found and savoured the thought of turning back to had finished serving lunch by 14h00... ?! I'll fondue another day. And close this particular box of chocolates. My taste must need to mature.

Cuffed

'Hey, you!' says the sunflower to the sun Just like that, In tones of mockery, 'Hey, you! Where's your stem?'

Bagel Switcheroo at Harrods 102

We've just experienced an epiphany: Ray of light from heaven, thy name be Harrods 102... blessings be bestowed upon all items and a golden glow of food and fine things to radiate from every corner....

I forbid you to have your first visit there without me!

Yesterday they handed out 2for1 bagel vouchers to entice people to visit this new exclusive food /convenience store. Positioned opposite The Real Harrods just up the road from us, we made it an office excursion for lunch today.

We said 'let there be scepticism!' - and there was.

We said 'let there be free tasters!' - and there were.

We said 'we won't be impressed and will come to our own conclusion!'.

And we did.

The experience warrants the writing of an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical. Something along the lines of Joseph's Technicoloured Dreamcoat: Mohammeds Den of Gourmet Eniquity.

There's a lot to be said for Gluttony and his 6 other sinful friends. We’re moving in with them. Embracing Glutt like a long lost brother. Office shared lunches are the way of the future, the pies and sandwiches are big enough for 2 and much the same price as you would pay at most other places.

Descriptions bring tears to your eyes and the taste of bakery goodies makes you want to grab the chef in an 'italian mama' hug and pat his cheek lovingly...

Little coloured sushi bowls on a roundabout, pastry pieces straight from an angel's oven, tea's, chocolates, wines... Pret must be quaking. BJ’s is out of the equation. EAT is annihilated.

I don’t know what the problem was, but Harrods 102 is the answer!

Confetti aspirations...

Its soft and flaky and melts pretty quickly.

Its like dizzy little pieces of finely shaved super-white parmesan crossed with the feeling of fluffy meringue, whisked and delicately stencilled to produce a peaceful and aerodynamic speck, complete with invisible parachute....

(Sure: romantic now, sludgy later)

So it floats and it settles and then it disappears, and, highlighted by twilight, we can see them dance past our office window. But you really have to look closely to follow the flight of one vs another... your eye expects them to move faster... WANTS them to move faster... and not be so... floaty...

They're built to race. But they're oblivious to the need for speed...

And that, my friends, is a quick assesment and description of my first London snowfall.

There's no white blizzard to brag of, and I suspect the more that falls and melts... well, the more fallen melted bits there will be... (oh she's a sharp one alright...)

And today's the day I chose to wear lady heels and not boots... splendid.

It doesn't look very threatening - a limp-wristed throw of snow (half a handful of confetti). But it's the first time I've ever experienced it in a city I live in...

If snow is the swan, confetti is the ugly duckling.

Lots of love and a snowball my size

GlobalKim

To blue flame or not to blue flame?

You have to respect the entrepeneurial mind...

And the peurile fascination of men who at certain moments and with certain topics revert back to being boys no matter what kickass job interviews they are currently creaming...

Richard would give anything to see me 'blue flame'... it's been mentioned before. The price has been discussed and we emphatically agree there is a market for the filmed version, especially in our home town. The price rises for ownership of marketing rights.

The list of who we would call already numbers more than a few - previous bosses, newspapers and celebrity mates jostle for first place.

Chris Legg maintains that a girls blue fame attempt is hugely dissappointing, we just aren't capable of the velocity required.

So it seems the best Plan Of Action is to have Rich prepare one of his curries.

Besides movie rights, merchandise opportunities and quiet fame south of the equator, if all optimistic results are achieved Chris maintains he'll sell my services as an industrial welder....

To blue fame or not to blue fame....?

A mother's pride

1-0 to the Turner. Great comeback. Unfortunately I don't have time to respond right now so I will temporarily give you this round. I need to rush as I have to go shortly. I have a very heavy afternoon on my couch to look forward to watching repeats of Knight Rider and thinking of ways that we(The Hoff, The Gird and The K.I.T.T) can clean little chuckys pipes.

-----Original Message-----
From: Richard Turner [mailto:richardturner01@gmail.com]
Sent: 24 February 2006 10:42
To: Stuart Gird
Cc: Brett Worth; Kim Danoher; Darren Le Roux; Ryan Whitelaw
Subject: Re: FW: it was bound to happen...

I see.......Stuart let me begin by voicing my humble opinion in this ongoing dispute. I can quiet understand your fascination with your percieved childhood hero.

I think what you have described to me in your response is a text book example of how hollywood has brain washed the youth of that time into a false sense of what is real and what is not. Sure technology is amazing and kit ....WAS.....a fascinating machine.

But Chuck Norris needs no help from man made machines OR fancy leather pants. Size is also of little consequence in this titanic battle of words. Chuck...through years of martial arts training afforded him by the shoalin monks of tibet and the discipline of the mind that comes from such a persute has single handedly managed to fight crime year in and year out. With little or no personal rewared or gain.

David Hasselhoff how ever has spent all his time behind the lense showing off and making the world belive that he can act when its quiet obviouse that he cant and thats all it is stuart its just acting. Thats right the Hoff is just a puppet on a string and the strings are being pulled  by a bunch of hollywood film makers cleverly making you think that the hoff is a tough guy when he isnt. That day in the supermaket parking lot was nothing more that a stupid marketing ploy designed to drum up public support for a loser in tight leather pants. I bet the rockets under kits hood didnt even get fired off.........Did they? ......Did they stuart?

On 2/24/06, Stuart Gird <stuart.gird@btlocalbusiness.co.uk> wrote:

Richard,

I think your ever increasing enthrallment, magnetism, unhealthy obsession, captivation, engrossment, preoccupation with Chuck is extremely unhealthy. Is it the Greying beard? Is it because he is a dwarf? What is it exactlly that allures you to him?

We all know that Chuck doesn't actually have any of the "skills" that you claim. They were all stunts in Films, NOTHING MORE!

Whereas in 1987 Kit was doing a tour of South Africa, I went to Checkers at Greenacres and sat in Kit!

All the buttons and gadgets were there. I saw them with my own eyes. With irrefutable evidence like this........... I and many other that were lucky enough to meet Kit that day know..................................That with Kit THE HOFF would kick little Chuckys ass.

p.s. don't even get me started on the day I met Mr T or Clubber Lang(as I prefer to remember him from Rocky III) as this would open another whole can of worms!

I will leave you with this parting shot from REVELATIONS 13:3 And I saw one of his heads as it were wounded to death; and his deadly wound was healed: and all the world wondered after the beast.

Of course, this is a reference to his third head: Knight of the Phoenix, the first episode of Knight Rider. In this episode, "Michael Long, a policeman, is shot and left for dead. The shot is deflected by a plate in his head, but ruins his face. He is saved and his face reconstructed. He is reluctant, but agrees to use K.I.T.T. to help the Foundation for Law and Government fight criminals who are 'beyond the reach of the law'. " Knight Rider has been shown in 82 countries.

-----Original Message-----
From: Richard Turner [mailto: richardturner01@gmail.com]
Sent: 24 February 2006 10:01
To: Stuart Gird
Cc: Brett Worth; Kim Danoher; Darren Le Roux; Ryan Whitelaw
Subject: Re: FW: it was bound to happen...

Stuart I think your ever increasing fascination with the Hoff really needs to end. I don't know if its the black leather pants he wore in knight rider or the gay Afro he sported that makes you think he is even remotely capable of taking on Chuck Norris in a fight. The Hoff would never be capable of beating Chuck Norris, its proven.

The only person who came even close was Mr T and as everyone knows they had to go to the very edge of the universe to actually have the fight so that they would not destroy the earth. Chuck Norris has his patented round house kicks but the strength of MR T's Mohawk was not enough to combat the deadly force of Chuck Norris's round house kicks so he had to embrace the cool bite of gold chains as extra protection.   

Now imagine ' The HOFF' pitted against one of these deadly assailants.

I DONT THINK SO.........

On 2/24/06, Stuart Gird <stuart.gird@btlocalbusiness.co.uk > wrote:

There is no way that this could be true. The Hoff would kick Chucks ass. Kit would have helped too and driven The Chuck over!

Therefore this is a grossly exagerated version of actual events! I'm sure The Hoffs representitives will be contacting the perpetrators soon!

WAKE UP MR WEST!!

Hammersmith Apollo - 'circle' doesn't mean golden. But Em's eyes are.

A Bon Jovi partner. A long queue. A broken earring. Double Jacks and coke. A vienna sausage with personality. Getting to know friends Jack and Daniel even better. Was there an opening act? 'X' seats become 'A'. But balcony is still not good enough. Pay and the pain will go away... you'll also get into the standing section.

Lights. Camera. Crowds. Awful lot of action. Go Kanye. Go Viola. Go minger DJ with the hat. Hussle for the shirt. A performance post mortem with Jack. Don't forget Daniel. And a salty beer skull.

Cab. Kebab. Home. Couch.

Wake up. Morning. Head. Ouch!

All countries great and small

Sun! We've had sun! London warms slowly but is getting lighter by approx an hour per week… we smell braai season (barbecue) comin'!!!

Its the start of a new week after a hard-earned weekend. Last week was all about playing firefighter and sorting out minor crisis’s. There’s an imaginary team of arsonists out there who’ve been the bane of my existence, but life and work is still good - having to solve sudden problems is all growing pains and signs of a company that is doing well!

We continue to wear our hearts on our sleeves when it comes to country allegiance, and without the cost of leaving the UK for a change.

3 weeks back was ‘National Australia Day’ which was well worth the effort. With the number of antipodeans over here, sometimes I wonder if the population truth of Australia has been left at nothing but 20 people and 4 million sheep... If not, then at least the loudest and proudest are over here, and Oz day was a riot of 'no worries'.

It was a good eve and my first introduction to snakebite (tasting it, I've seen the damage it can do!). ‘Snakebite’ is a traditional, well-known and well-feared Australian drink: beer with cranberry juice for colour.

Let the record show, ‘Snakebite’ + clothing = laundry nightmare. My beige jacket cant be rescued by dry cleaners, and I’ll be wearing the light pink stains of a good evening for months to come!

3 Days later was The Year of The Dog. Chinatown was abuzz and how could you not finish up with a meal of sweet and sour? In fact, thats been the start of a new tradition - Paper tablecloths are perfect for scribbling notes.

Its now become a tradition, but started as a harmless debate about how to spell the word ‘sure’. Different accents in the office make it more interesting than you would think: shoo-wah, shoe-eerr, shaw, shu-wa... I'd ask if I'm the only one entertained by this, but our French IT specialist has now moved permanently to our London office, and this raises our inter-accent-annihilation games to a whole new level... bon-jooor, bonzjhu-wa, bone-zjoe-wer?!?!

So if some of you get a cut of white cloth with food stains and crazy scribbles on it in the post sometime in the future, you know its been about a good meal and a crazy debate... 

Back to country-loving, we joined Janna (our new New Zealand workmate) for ‘Waitanga’ Day last Saturday. Waitanga day outdid Ozzie day, in my opinion, but only because Ozzie day was a week night. Last Saturday, Kiwi’s ran rampant all over London dressed as sheep, wearing flags and black painted all over faces, arms, you name it.

I got a real kick out of meeting Janna’s friends, proper Samoan (pronounced ‘sah-moohn’) and Mori people. We desperately tried to make it to Westminster Abbey in time to see the group Haka but they closed Victoria station just as everyone swarmed onto the underground… nothing to do with mass drinking, crowding and chanting, I'm sure?! (‘Hands up hands up!!’ – you’re not allowed to steady yourself with your hands on the train. The crush of everyone is supposed to do the trick to keep you standing!).

In fact, so good is it to adopt other nationalities and their celebrations, a like-minded lot of us sourced a list of every National Country day in the world, plus a list of religious holidays in Feb... (I know what you’re thinking and it doesn’t take much to see the sneaky motivation!!) BUT, far from this being a mindless activity, the test is to have a suitable venue, phrase (in the language of the country!) and drink for each occasion.

It's been a bit difficult to keep up though... After a successful Candlemas (Thurs), reunion with Saffirs (Fri), and Waitanga Day (Sat), Sri Lanka day last Sunday was about nothing more than tame burgers and milkshakes, and promises to find alternative activities that would be classified as celebrations minus a drink. Or two… As for Valentines day... what? SO last season!

Over and above country celebrations, one of Londons realities has worked out great for us: You spend a lot of time with your work colleagues.

Luckily we have the greatest lot full of quirks and personality. Conversations have reached the next level - you'll hear weird mention of ‘the stuffed badger on wheels that serves drinks’ (Katies room mate at the place where they stayed at for a weekend in Switzerland – a real stuffed badger on wheels with a tray in its paws…what else but to serve drinks?).

We concluded whilst at the pub (where else?) that Chris and Travis must be brothers (for reasons that escape us post-pub) only, Aussie Travis was brought up by Kangaroo’s, and Brit Chris by badgers. Which means.... surely we could stuff him, put him on wheels and have him serve drinks…? (it doesn’t get any better than this, I’m afraid!)

Colleagues have also been treated to 5FM (SA home radio station) in the office thanks to i-streaming. We'll work our way through each of our favourite stations from home, but from my side they've gotten to hear at least 4 of the 11 official languages, and especially the weirdly pronounced English: Mechanism = Meh-kah-neee-zhem. Travis didn’t quite appreciate my enthusiastic crash course in Kwaito… (type of music specific to SA).

*Yes, we do work. Didn't you read my second paragraph mentioning I'm an honorary firefighter and one step away from ordering the suit?!

Returning to 5FM... it appears that Gorrilaz and Hard-Fi have FINALLY made it over to the SA charts! Allow me a small gloat and to take your mind back to an October e-mail last year about the 'Who Shot the Sheriff / Vote against the Fascist BNP’ film premier / concert thing... yup, my friends, that was Hard-Fi. Saw them before they had a no.1... touched the sweaty dude and all… who’s the talent scout?!! (Dear God, please bring me the next Chris Martin, Amen!)

Nothing much else to report, this was just a quick one / long one to share the amusements of the past while. Obviously 2006 has picked up pace. Tickets are booked to come to SA, but just to let a few confused people know - it's a 2/3 week holiday before returning back to London, hopefully with work visa in hand and European summer at my feet!

Hope that everything else is well with you guys and 2006 is bringing you the best so far. I know this e-mail sounds like its all action over here, but it HAS been a 'yin/yang' of quiet vs antics.

In closing, I would like to extend an invitation to all yee adventurous UK fools: Katie, Marnie and myself have decided that May / June / July will include a 'hunt the puffin' weekend (cute birds, not the book publishers )... all enquiries welcome, happy to provide details and we promise not to mention stuffed badgers or being raised by kangaroos : )

Keep well and stay safe...

'Nuttin but love and a hug my size, and fond thoughts of seeing lots of you soon!

Kimster x

Antipodeans and a whole herd of Gird

The peaceful suburb of Richmond was disrupted on Friday night earlier this month by the strange appearance of what locals have identified as 'lampost leaches'.

An unusual phenomenon that continues to baffle scientists and the minds of the public alike, antipodean pranks in the Richmond area of Surrey, London, have grown to include habits such as random trolley abuse, road-sign kidnapping, dustbin hunting, house-number fleecing and horizontal pole vaulting.

Not to be confused with pole dancing or the more common discipline of 'pole vaulting' (frequently performed in sporting circles), horizontal pole vaulting involves the strategic accosting of a pole and subsequent 'vaulting of the body', resulting in a person horizontally positioned above the pavement. Difficulties faced in the performance of this discipline include pole size, frost, upper arm strength and stamina.

Prime instigator Stuart Gird, a veteran performer, has achieved status as rogue horizontal pole vaulting champion in the Richmond and Twickenham neighbourhoods. Soon to be witnessed at a street and bus pole near you.

It is advised no outdoor objects are safe during this mystifying time.

Festive Fracas 2006

Grab a coffee, I just saw how long this is... (wait! Cut back caffeine for 2006, be more healthy - make it a 8 glasses of water and you'll have covered the RDA!).

Its been a while... or maybe not? It feels like ages ago there was mass e-mail of festive wishes, but checking the calendar its only the fourth week of the new year... Does time fly or just give the illusion of flying?

According to some people 'in-the-know' (or with nothing better to do), from New Years until 17 January London had 3 hours of sunshine... I'm certain it hasn't been that bad, but have been too busy prowling sales and pondering the game plan for 2006 to notice. Days are grey and overcast, but daylight hours are increasing by 3 minutes a time. And the sales... aaah, the sales... (budget and bedroom space constraints, so not prancing around like a cast member of 'Legally Blonde' yet..)

Very strange to start new year in a different country. The housemates were away on their respective holidays (Brazil for Darren, Austria for Richard), so from 30 Dec I had the house to myself for 2 weeks - blissful.

Apart from a road trip through southern Ireland (1st weekend in Jan), all evenings were spent perfecting what Cousin taught me over new years weekend - the fine art of 'becoming one' with the couch! The last weekend of 2005 was made up of lazy days and rowdy nights. Beware, MTV can hypnotise you for days - the most dramatic and energetic activity for 1 Jan was Brett (Cuz) shifting head to the tail end of the couch and feet to the top... Lovely! Personally, I didn't have the energy to adjust my sofa indentation.

So what can I report.... Dec is the height of pub culture - I challenge anyone not to revel in it! Guilty as charged of yelling in native languages and accents (DUI-delik!!), falling on trains, and mouthing off to Taxi drivers and on busses with Chav talk: 'What-EVA, yor MU-tha, works at, Mac-DON-alds... East side, west side YO!!... (don't ask, this is SO old and MUST be replaced with something new and hopefully classier...especially when you consider there are hand signs that go with this - see picture!! ).

Many thanks to Cuz, again, for alternating between being the appropriate comrade / 'keep the peace' person on most of these occassions...

And those who recieved bizarre sms's at all times of night can attest this is not the wisest thing to do during the festive season if you want to come off sounding intelligent and coherent! On the plus side, any idea to serve a brief stint as a bar lady for the sake of trying something different was scrapped. Would have lasted for 12 hours max - chain smoking picks up pace in these places.

Ugh. Cosy pub, drinks, food - and cigarette smog.

Not like Ireland. That was superb. Absolutely beautiful landscape (4 countries in one - part South Africa, part Canada, can't decide on the rest). We travelled south and along the coast to the west.

And it's so FRIENDLY.

So so CLEAN.

So so GREEN.

And so so MEAN - to smokers..

Every doorway has a huddle upwards of 2 people, and they daren't smoke in the pub. Drive past and you see embers in the dark. Or shivering people if there's light, and its a real bonding experience for them - one gent was highly offended we didn't linger in the doorway for a chat on our way out, theyre always looking for company. Apparently in Dublin there's a pub thats turned an old bus into the 'smoking section' outside, and its more fun than the pub (not much of a surprise).

Ireland has a population of 5 million, a worldwide population of 70 million, and had 5.2 million tourists visit last year. The numbers don't lie... but the Irish do!

According to the star of our most authentic Irish experience (a pub owner in Cork on a Sunday night), you can only trust Irish who are 70 or over - 'The closer they get to their maker, the less they tend to lie'. Since he was only 55 (and a reformed alcoholic), it raised questions about the tall stories he shared with us for 3 hrs after closing:

'To be sure, I decided to check the layout of the graveyard nearby. Since men digging the graves are generally suffering hangovers at the time, I figured there must have been mistakes made - found 18 graves incorrectly marked... poor families come from far to visit graves of their ancestors and its not the right person!'.

There's too much to say about Ireland, and describe of the landscape and people... maybe in a seperate e-mail, it's worth sharing. What can you say about a place where a barman greets a local with: 'Are the cows still lovin' ya?', to the response of, 'Aye, but thats about the only thing thats lovin' me'.. buy the man a Guiness!

As for 'real life' in London, the visa process is ticking along. A little stressful, since it's such a finely worded / organised process. Step wrong, and they could refuse you..

Also facing the prospect of coming home in April. Made a mistake in conversation last night by confessing that going back (SA) feels a bit daunting, but feeling a lot better having booked my ticket to come home at the end of it... Home? London? Home? Hmmmm?

Tickets almost finalised, I can't wait to be a tourist in my own country and see all of you again!

So rock on 2006. No New Year's resolution to mention in particular. Unfortunately 'carefree traveller' will have to take a back seat to 'corporate focus' for this year, but London and some weekends away will have more than enough to entertain...

I hope that you are all well and settling in to a fantastic year full of experiences. I wish for you all that you wish for yourselves!

Nuttin' but love and a hug my size (Slobo!)

Kim

P.s - Mustard is the new black, was pink... don't ask!

Home sweet home

GREAT! The housemates are home...

Now that skiing is amongst their repertoire of experiences, from here forward the TV is guaranteed to be set either on Fishing channel, Bushcraft with Ray Mears - (Ray Meers doesn't sleep... he waits... he likes his fillet of child sandwich... Ray Meers's tears can cure cancer...pity he's never cried... Ray Mears survived on just berries and bark... but he didn't even eat any... he was in the bush for 3 YEARS!!... AND he didn't sleep a SINGLE NIGHT...!!) - or Extreme Skiing... Nature documentaries are still the ultimate in comedy entertainment.

It's back to curries, booze surprise, braai's and beard... a world of exploration!

Welcome back boys! (Now off my couch?! : )