DEAD!

Hello Simon! Ha ha don't worry I am not planning to do a Heather Mills. Promise! HE HE. Oh well, if I insist on hanging out friends and family on this thing I guess I have to expect them to find their way here eventually...

Except for this guy I'm about to write this post... er... about. Because he's DEAD. Sister and I saw a DEAD man on the way to get a DVD out on Monday. It went like this:
Linda, barefoot: "walkie walkie with no shoes on, OUCH!"
Sister: "Watch out, there's blood here"
Linda: "No worries, the HIV virus dies when it hits air I've read somewhere I think and I'm not hurt anyway"
Walkie walkie
Sister: "An empty blood bag?"
Walkie walkie along a now 20m trail of blood
Sister: "Er, I think this is where it comes from."

At this point, we see this black guy lying on his back with a LOT of thick, red blood next to him, sort of dripped around his head like raspberry coulis, with bandaged eyes and a LOT of blood seeping through the bandages. The guy isn't moving. There is a policeman smoking a fag next to him, and somebody slowly bandaging his head. There is no ambulance, just some sort of small size van with signage that says 'fire services' and a police van.

He's lying just outside our local shopping centre, the main entrance. People are walking in and out.

There are no cordons, no hurry, no dignity, no NOTHING. Except for this policye guy who's on his mobile and laughing. LAUGHING. 10 minutes later we come out again, almost having to step over the dead guy's feet to get to our car, and there is no movement. And still no ambulance. I guess he went straight to the morgue without passing go. Wouldn't be surprised if the policeman nicked his trainers first, though.

Yesterday morning, the pavement had been washed clean.

One would put up with a great deal to be the mistress of Pemberley

This weekend Sister and I thought we'd get a bit adventurous, so we decided to drive to the winelands east of Cape Town to have a look around and test some vino. We spent Friday night having dinner at a friend's house and Miracle-Gro (yea, she's back in the blog) mentioned that her flatmate's parents own a vineyard up there. He spends a lot of time up there now as uni is on summer break, she said, maybe he could show us around? Sister and I thought YEAH!

Now, I know Simon, he's a great chap. A bit of SMS-ing and hey, presto, we'd made a plan to come visit the following morning.

So the Saturday, after an hour's drive and a time consuming doubling back to get the guide book, we finally found his parents' place. Not that it was very hard. Pulling up at what can only be described as a tourist attraction (all in good taste, mind) we were amazed to find that this chap is not just the heir of any old wine farm. He (and his sister, it's the 21st century after all) are next in line to take over this place


Having got over our initial Lizzy Bennett moment (Simon's single after all), we got the grand tour. Simon took us up the slopes of the mountain (which is called Simonsberg - no relation) in his trusty landrover and around the wine producing 'stuff' which was all very impressive. His great grandfather, a Lithuanian jew who emigrated from increasingly unstable Europe in the early 1900s, swapped the butcher's he'd set up in Cape Town for this piece of land - not knowing the first thing about winemaking. A century later, it seems he had a knack for it. Hot damn!

In the office today I got a grim reminder that I'm in the new Africa, not the Africa of a hundred years ago. A chap had promised to write me an opinion piece, but he hasn't been in touch for a while. So last week I reminded him. And I got this back:

Sorry for the delay in my response. I was attacked a couple of weeks ago and stabbed several times. I am recovering now but had to have an operation on my right wrist to reconnect severed tendons.

His point is, he can't type for another couple of weeks... Could I wait another month for the story, apologies etc... You certainly may...

Don't you know its Christmas time?

Ok, so it's a myth that it's cheaper to walk to work than take you car. At least when there are shops on the way, and cute dresses to be purchased. Oh dear. I think that Marie Antoinette flick got to me. Now where is my pink cup cake...?

Bastard journalists on this continent driving me mad! I've shortlisted eight for the position we're offering, and I seem to be able to get through to four. The rest, including the one I'm very keen on, seem to have gone awol. Some don't include their mobiles on the CVs. Some don't seem to have them. Emails are always hotmail or yahoo, and thoroughly unreliable. Most don't seem to check their emails more than once a week. I mean, how can a journalist not be accessible?

I feel so cruel. First throwing peoples CVs away after not more than a glance after all their hard work... And then putting them through a long, sweaty test. But this place is in need of some serious CV workshops. I mean, 20 pages? Or the spelling errors. Or the placing of secondary school qualifications on the first page, and work experience on the last. And cover letter - somebody sent through a letter published in a newspaper as his 'cover letter'. I mean, jesus!

It's hard to be fair. I must say that I put a girl on the shortlist after she sent a sweet message saying that she was really keen on the post. Well, gives a good impression doesn't it?

I'll try to get down to three or so candidates who I will then interview, perhaps even flying them down to Cape Town for it.

And that's not the end of my problems. The black empowerment legislation down here is such that only South Africans qualify. So even if I get a Zimbabwean, that won't could for our BE compliance. Hard to put an international team together down here!

Almost december and sun is out all the time. It doesn't make sense to see gigs, clubs etc advertising for beach-side parties in mid-December. Who needs christmas anyway when it's 30 degrees and sunny? Not I, that is for sure... The swedes are getting together for a paarty instead, sans christmas ham and julmust.

Speak your mind

Ok, I'm sure this is not very moral of me but I just had to commit to this blog a clipping I got today. I'm hiring a reporter down here, and I get all sorts of very qualified people coming knocking. But this chap - well - one of the clippings is of a letters page in a local magazine and it's about the immorality of homosexuality. It speaks of how the moral fibre of Africans will be eroded, birth rates stagnate and child molestation go up if the civil union bill remains as it stands - legalising same-sex unions.

I guess if his CV is any good, I'll make sure to arrange my sister to come by when he comes in for the interview, and introduce her as my girlfriend. He may consider it part of the test...

Press day tomorrow. William off on paternity leave. Hopes high for a 5 pm finish!

Mr Miyagi

One week left to press day for issue 6 and the weather is sweltering outside. It's hard to sit in the office and write words when the only ones I can think of are beach, sun, sea and pina colada.

The story from Nairobi was publiished yesterday by the Grauniad, feel free to read it here. Nothing seems to have happened to end the strike since, it will be interesting to see how it all turns out.

On an aside, Britney seems to turn out like I always said she would - the new Liz Taylor. Speaking of whom, this photo has been amusing me all day. I mean, are any of them real?

Pix from the trip

Ok, so I've finally reached home and thought I'd upload some pictures from the last weeks' shenanigans. First, a couple of artist's impressions of Alexandria - the first the bay and the Cornishe, the second of the new library.




Cairo, as I said, was great. Here is a picture of sunset over the Nile. And the second is a rare photo of what I actually work with - science. Here, GM potatoes in 3 stages. Usually takes up to a year to get from the green mush to the 'micrutubules' on the left. From the National Research Centre in Cairo.




And then, of course, there was Nairobi. Wonderful place, a complete surprise. Got a guided tour of the city at night, which I had been warned against seeing on foot, and even had a few local beers in a local pub with a local! The Jacarandas were in full bloom. And I did a piece for the Guardian (out next Tuesday) about the striking university lecturers. Below, the Jacaranda and a few of the students that are still being taught at the University of Nairobi.