Having it all...

EXCESS IS EVERYWHERE AND IT’S SPILLING INTO ALL AREAS OF LIFE!

Screaming from all angles to buy more, exercise more, do more and be more – its no wonder that many of us are constantly feeling as if we’re under-achieving if we’re not out there taking advantage of every opportunity, outing or special promotion currently running ..” until December!”

Exceed, excel, excess.. all words telling us to be more, do more and achieve more. From the minute I wake up every morning, my programming is geared to improvement: I take a shower to improve my “night look” into a more friendly “day look”, do my best job to improve results at the end of the work week and then strive to improve on my resolution of doing more exercise at the end of the day.

Since caveman times, humans have been attuned to aspirations for improvement. Without it, we would never have discovered how to rub two sticks together to make a fire or, the modern equivalent: by creating a similarly named, but slightly more technologically advanced “memory stick” which allows us to not only save fiery words but pictures and sounds as well.

Improvement is one reason that drives us to excess.  Our drive to enhancing our self image makes it easy to  justify to ourselves why we spend more on clothing, fragrances, accessories and gadgets, but slightly more difficult when we have to explain our purchases to enquiring bank manager and partner. Why is it that we believe a branded pair of sunnies just makes us look so much better than a cheaper one? Somehow I feel way more glamorous wearing my Issey Miyake perfume than an aromatherapy blend from the Boots counter.

Guilt, competition, self fulfilment or boredom all lead us to look for the next fix. And sometimes we take it so far, that we don’t even see how we’re over doing things.

Taking stock of my own guilty (and sometimes painful) excesses, the past year has seen me trying to burn the midnight oil and aromatherapy scented candle all at the same time. Moving to a different country, starting a new job, embarking on a dream study course and then having some foot surgery thrown in too, has proven quite an excess in the stress department. Add to that the excess of essays, making new friends and discovering that the sun doesn’t exist in excess here -  its been quite a year!

Metaphysics laws teach that failure to deal with spiritual, emotional, mental or physical stress is likely to result in the manifestation of illness (Aristotle, 322 BC). According to him, symptoms would manifest in areas correlating to certain body parts with particular stresses, indicating parts of your life which need attention. My foot injury could be related to the fact that I physically need to slow down, and take stock.

Stopping me in my tracks it certainly has! I haven’t been able to indulge in all the normal excesses of daily living: the rush of commuting, the excess of aimless shopping, as I now have to carry everything in a backpack. I’ve had to be more mindful (and take stock) of what I’m eating, (knowing that I have to carry any excess with my two wobbly arms!) and spending time doing all those outstanding essays, hopefully resulting in some EXCESS(ively) good marks!

Excess is everywhere, and I’m trying to use this time of recuperation to focus on maximising the good and clearing out the unnecessary. First to go: all the 100’s of study note pages hanging around like autumn leaves.. beautiful to look at and an indication of hard work throughout the term, but a definite fire hazard. If I think about it, now would be the perfect opportunity for me to show my technological advancement, and store it all on a memory stick!

Heres to advancement, elimination of excess and progress to the next season! Season’s greetings everyone!

Eating your tea..?

New to the strange and unique city of London? Don’t feel alone as Suzanne Schneider experiences and reports on some strange behavior during her first weeks here.

“Have a butchers at those ones and twos! That woman has huge plates! “

“ Yeah! But imagine the pen and ink when she takes them off?

I was on the underground the other day and I heard two men chatting about some woman who had just sat down. They were clearly from East London – speaking Cockney English, and enjoying the slightly shocked look on my face as I thought they were referring to some parts of the female anatomy in a rather crude way.

After a search on Google, I eventually discovered that they weren’t making chauvinist comments, but rather speaking about her shoes, the size of her feet and the smell when she finally took the shoes off. That’s London for you! You think you’re in an English speaking country, but then you still get stumped by some things that are totally unique and strange in this city!

Cockney English was actually invented in the 19^th century by the criminal underworld in London, who needed a way of communicating, that wouldn’t be understood by outsiders (especially by the police). It was based on a sort of rhyming slang and although a bit confusing (to us non criminals!) it proved very functional when trying to avoid a nosey “piece of filth” (policeman)!

Still on the underground, I sat looking around at some of the people. It’s perfectly ok to look, but don’t get caught! One doesn’t make eye contact on the underground, and definitely don’t strike up a conversation with someone. Underground etiquette dictates that you keep to yourself, allow passengers off the train before rushing in to grab a seat for yourself, and always sticking to the right when standing on the escalators. Going left when you’re not actually moving is about equal to pulling the plug in the middle of a rock concert: stupid, dangerous and definitely stops the party from moving forward!

The Underground is a definite institution in London. It was the first underground system in the world, and was first opened in 1863. It has 270 stations, and covers about 400km of track – making it the longest metro system in the world, by route length. It is also the third busiest metro system in Europe after Moscow and Paris. (and probably also ranks quite high in the hot and smelly ratings, but no official records are currently available).

Moving out of the underground and into the fresh air (sunshine not always guaranteed) there are some great places to see. Try going to one of the large parks and walk around until you find your spot. Next, whip out a copy of Time Out magazine and flick through to find some places of interest. There are loads of things to do for people on a student budget and a bit of imagination.

Museums in the country are usually free, and some of the ones I’ve been to have seriously impressed! The British museum’s “Medals of dishonor” is an exhibition with a difference – showcasing medals that condone the recipients’ actions rather than honour them. This includes “Dishonorable medals” for the war in Iraq, environmentalist issues and consumerism. The Science museum, The Tate Modern and the Imperial War museum are also great, and show some of the amazing, imaginative and unthinkable things humans are capable of doing.

The one unimaginable, unthinkable thing Londoners can’t do, is going without their cup of tea! The British are the second largest per capita consumers of tea in the world, with an average of 2.1kg of tea being drunk, per person, per year! Strong tea, also called “Builders tea” is usually served with milk, in a mug. No longer the delicate bone china and crustless cucumber sandwiches from the Victorian era – “taking your tea” refers not only the actual drink, but also to a light meal in the late afternoon. Taking tea doesn’t always mean having tea though, and could include a pint or two.

So yes, the British way of life seems straight forward and easy to understand – but thinking you know what they’re talking about is a dangerous assumption! Being stopped by the filth for taking too much tea   might seem a bit of a drastic step, but then you’ve got to know that your drink can now refer to a meal, and your tea can actually be something not from a leaf but rather from a grain of cereal. Don’t argue and don’t pretend to understand. Remember: you’re bound to be stumped by some things that are totally unique and strange in this city!

 

Lighthouse Family...

Like the vigirn bride, my first time was also filled with mixed feelings of excitement, expectation and to a small degree, fear. I approached Slangkoppunt Lighthouse not knowing what to expect and walked away wanting to tell the whole world about my experience.

I’d never visited a lighthouse before, and the mystery and intrigue of what or rather who I would find there, was reason enough for me to approach.

The fascination of lighthouses is often explained by the mystery and romantic ideas that were probably created from Childhood stories (such as Paul Gallico’s The Snow Goose”) or poster prints of the solitary lighthouse keeper surround by crashing waves and stormy, inclement weather – where his only safety is inside the narrow tower  which is completely surrounded by the gulf of waves he is trying to escape.

Lighthouse keepers have always been depicted as reclusive, solitary types – who prefer the company of noisy seagulls and mother nature. They stay in remote and sometimes unihabited places, and rarely mingle with the locals.

But this was definitely not the case when I met Peter Dennett of Slangkppunt lighthouse – near Kommetjie, in the Western Cape. He was friendly and accommodating and his enthusiasm so catching that I found myself asking more and more questions, and becoming quite excited about what lighthouses have to offer.

Lighthouse tourism is new to our country – and is proving to be a very lucrative way of keeping these national monuments funded. South Africa has 11 lighthouses along her coastline, five of which offer self catering accommodation.  This form of  tourism, (controlled by  SALATO - the South African Lighthouse Adventure Tour Operators) was started in 2001, when a profitable, alternative use for lighthouses was identified. Many of these “gentle giants”were being under utilized and left to deteriorate, as more and more keepers were leaving the service without being replaced. This meant that  more and more light keepers lodgings were left fallow.

Using these structures for tourism purposes would not only provide much needed funds, but also assist in enhancing the educational value of lighthouses - hich are often stationed near nature reserves. Jobs would also be created and local businesses would benefit – basically a light at the end of everyone’s tunnel.

AND THEN THERE WAS LIGHT…

The first lighthouse was built in the times of Egypt’s  Pharoes of Alexandria – where the white marble construction was rated as one of the wonders of the ancient world. The first lighthouse on the South African coast only happened in 1485, at Cape Cross, when Diego Cam, a Portuguese explorer, sent a landing party ashore to construct the first padraos, or lighthouse. This was done at a time where the only materials available were stone, brick, wood and glass, and to build something that would withstand the fury of the sea, took a lot of patience, determination and coaxing – as horses had to be used to cart the heavy materials to the shore, from where they were transported to the site by sailboat – which ran the same risks as any ship which might benefit from its final construction. 

The Afrikaans, Dutch and Scandinavian word for lighthouse, is “vurtoring”  (or fire tower) which brings to mind the huge fires made from wood or coal, before the days of gas lamps or oil burners.  According to the accepted sense of the word , the first official “lighthouse” in South Africa was erected on Robbin Island in 1657 during the time of Jan van Riebeek. The lighthouse served not only as a warning, to ships out at sea, but also as an alarm to notify the Commander  of foreign vessels in the neighborhood.

The lighthouses found along the South African coast are constructed from three types of material – either cast iron, aluminium latticework, or concrete masonry. Each lighthouse has it’s own unique character or light code – the series of flashes and pauses between each signal. This would make any lighthouse easily identifiable – and provide the lost mariner with his location address.

Like the virgin bride who approached the subject with trepidation and awe, my trips to some of South Africa's lighthouses ended with a satisfied smile and an appreciation of terra firma.

To visit and stay on some of the lighthouses along South Africa's coast, visit:
the Travel and Tourism site.

DUNG BALLS AND GOLD BARS

Smelling Dung and finding gold... an excursion into the forest along South Africa´s famous Garden Route

I could smell the dung as I rolled down my window, and gave the guard at the boom my entrance money. The guard must have known what I was referring to, as I inhaled once more just to make sure that I actually smelled what I thought I smelled. ”Yes, it is elephant dung madam, and they went past here last night”.

This is almost too authentic for me, and I roll up my window to pass through the boom, take my look around, write the story, and get the heck out of here.

This is big foot territory, and I kind of feel I’ve only been allowed a temporary pass.

Millwood Creek Mine is set in the heart of the forest at Rheenendal – about 5km’s West of Knysna.  I only got to hear about it when I was listening to my breakfast and watching the passing traffic. (Actually more accurately I was looking very intently out the window, with my ear cocked to a bowl of muesli while listening to the table next door, and what they were planning to do on their off Saturday while in the area).

To be honest, I’d never heard of gold in this area, and honestly can’t comprehend how miners from that time managed to haul their machinery through the dense forest, with the prospect of snakes, crawlies and no tabard lotion.

According to my information brochure, gold was discovered in 1870 in the Karatara River, and, like a temporary tattoo (you experience what all the hype is about, with no long term commitment) the miners didn’t stick around long enough the see the beginning of the next century. A more reliable source of gold was discovered on the Witwatersrand and they moved on leaving behind a ghost village.

The discovery of potential wealth in the area meant an influx of prospectors keen to cash in.  The optimists moved in, hacked back the vegetation and constructed ugly little make shift shacks.  They also made sluice boxes and weirs to wash the gravel as they worked their fingers to find the shiny currency.

I can quite picture how hard it must have been to live here – no convenience store for a quick refill of milk, bread or the Sunday paper, the closest supply store was a bundu bashing trek through the forest, along the Seven Passes Route, from Millwood to Knysna.

Driving up the high mountain pass today in our all terrain vehicle, I’m suddenly much more appreciative of pneumatic tyres, air cushioned seats and aircon – which can really give a whole new appreciation to the outdoor experience.  How these people managed to haul their equipment up the pass, while trying to coax a span of oxen and negotiate their release from plants that grab hold and tear your skin, gives me (the backseat driver) quite a squirmish feeling).

After walking around the various mine trails, and seeing the encamped equipment area, it’s time for a cup of tea. We move along to the coffee shop called The Moterolli Tea Garden – looking around skeptically at what we might be served here.  There are old ploughing implements strewn all over the garden, in amongst the tables, and the lawn is growing around the wheels of something that I’m later told is a harvester. 

The owner, who lives and works on the premises, must be starved for conversation, as he moves from table to table, taking orders for his chocolate cake (Self made, and really divine), and tells anyone who is interested a bit about the history of the area and shows the small museum room found adjacent to the café.

History still seems to be alive here, and the if the enthusiasm of the local parks board isn’t proof enough, the fresh elephant dung sure should convince you.

Suzanne’s short profile:

Time travel still seems possible when you return to visit family in small town living. Growing up in the dust and draught of the Klein Karoo, and returning there after 10 years away, I suddenly appreciate the winter rains of Cape Town, and the water stored in massive dams on the outskirts of the city.

When I’m not out enjoying nature and the fresh air, I love doing armchair travels, and spending time with people who have been to places I haven’t.