22.3.07

Watch that Kloof!

All right, all right I've been awol a while - so sue me. Sometimes living your life takes precedence over writing about it.

Last post - oh yes, that was just after my parents left. Well, that I've been very busy since then you'll have no problem imagining I'm sure. What with is what eludes me at the moment, however. On Monday I flew to Durban for a day. I was there to interview this woman who led a clinical trial on anti-HIV gels for women that was stopped a few months ago because women appeared to contract HIV more easily using the gel than not. Her name has been dragged through the mud in the press down here, and I was there to hear her side of the story which was quite different of course. The result will be published in the Guardian some time at the end of April.

Today, it's exactly a week since my sister left. It was a pretty sad affair, at least on my part, what with my flat now standing all too empty. Calling all friends to come down and visit! But make that before end of May as I might be moving out. Trying to see whether I can afford and be arsed to buy the place, but there are a lot of considerations involved.

Last Sunday I went flathunting. If I'm thinking about buying my flat, it's only good sense to see what else is out there. The answer - not much, if you're looking for cheap places. Fair enough, house prices are less here than in England. But interest rates are extremely high on mortgages - sometimes going up to 12.5 per cent! So even a small mortgage will cost a lot of money. If only I could work out a way to borrow money at home for a flat here... But then, what if the rand plummets? Risky business.

But going back to sister's exit, she was nearly arrested at Cape Town international. The reason - her visa had expired. Turned out that the 'expires 20/3/07' on her visa meant that the last day she could travel IN to South Africa was 20 March and that, once in, she could only stay 5 months. She'd stayed 5 and a half, you see... But 1000 rand saw her bypass prison and get back home to her Ricky. And mum and dad of course.

Can't remember doing much else last weekend, except NOT picking up Deborah who was coming down from Harare Sunda evening. She had an accident en route to the airport (the Research Africa curse strikes again) and only arrived on Monday, when I was already on my storm-lashed flight to Durban. It was a terribly bad week for her to come down, not only as I was going to be away the first day, but since yesterday was a public holiday and that would only leave 3 days with her in the office. But it's worked out ok, and now hopefully she will come down permanently at the end of April. But you never know, things are hairy in Zimbabwe at the moment.

My plans to visit London in May have also gone tits up due to the arrival of my editor in chief HERE the week I wanted to go. I'm going to Italy for a conference anyway and it's nice to kill a few birds with the one cramped 12-hour flight. I'll still make Trieste, though, 9-12 May so if anybody has collected enough airmiles for the flight I'd sure appreciate the company! So maybe I won't make London until June, or even July, depending on whether or not I secure tickets to Glastonbury.

Amid all the forgetfulness, I remember distinctly going canyoning (or kloofing as it's known down here) yesterday during the public holiday. Or at least my body remembers, I ache from head to toe. For those who don't know what canyoning is, it goes like this: You find a mountain river/brook that throws itself down cascading waterfalls and rapids and, in short, throw yourself after it. I've done it before in the south of France - once in the Alps and once in the Pyrenees - but this was something extra as there were no guides. Or, well, there were those on the kloof who had done it before and at least we didn't do the aptly named 'suicide gorge' in the same area where you DO need an experienced guide to avoid falling on razor sharp rocks from a great height. Still, when I've done it in the past there have been wetsuits. There were none this time, and the water was, say, 17 Celsius? At most? And we spent a good few hours in it? Hey, worse for the boys than for me!

We had our clothes and lunch wrapped in plastic in our bags, which floated along on the kloof, and it was truly exciting to unwrap them at the end and see whether your salt and vinegar crisps had in fact turned into salt and vinegar mush. Luckily they hadn't, although there were some deliciously melted winegums after the hot trek back.

The river god suffered us to pass without harm, but in return it claimed the sole camera and accompanying water housing of one of the participants. It was chucked into the water before the owner with the words 'it floated when we went diving' and let's just say that it didn't. At all. Therefore, there are no photos of the kloof. But to give you a taste of it, I've stolen some photos of a kloof in the same canyon a while ago. It was sunnier yesterday...