What! No camping out, Julius?

You know what they say about politicians and the promises they make? They say something similar about rules too!

With that in mind, I wasn’t expecting too much to come of Juluis Malema’s boast that “some of us” would be camping out in the Western Cape to win back the Metro for the ANC, which it lost quite convincingly to the Democratic Alliance in the last elections. However it did accur to me that this dumbass was crazy enough to actually pull such a stunt.

So while one would have expected Malema to have spent the week shopping at Outdoor Warehouse or some similar place for a tent and other camping essentials, we were informed that he was indeed in Cape Town over the weekend, notably without a backpack and hiking boots. In fact, camping was far from his mind as he joined another degenerate to celebrate the pre-opening of his posh nighclub.

And then they waded into a storm. Apparently the nightclub owner, Kenny Kunene has a penchant for eating sushi off the bodies of half-naked women. And Malema has a penchant for talking absolute rubbish. That combination created a little stir which the ANC tried to wash over, rather unconvincingly, it must be said.

While pondering what to write about this whole saga, editor of the Mail & Gaurdian Chris Roper helped me out with aplomb:

Yes, yes, I know. “We didn’t struggle to be poor.” Absolutely. No question. If there’s one thing democracy guarantees, it’s that to the victors go the spoils. Except, of course, most people in this country apparently did struggle to be poor — although at least they’re free and poor. And in a country where the average monthly income per struggle hero is around R3 375, we need as much free as we can get.


As Penny Punani, the famous entrepreneur and feminist, plaintively says when people complain about Kenny Kunene sucking fish off a babe’s body while pouring bubbly into her bek, “Why is it that white people didn’t complain when apartheid ministers were chowing wors out of a hot boeremeisie’s cleavage, but now, suddenly, because black people are doing it, it’s wrong? Why?”

Very good point, very good point. Alas, the answer is simple. In apartheid South Africa we were ruled by morons, now we’re not (mostly). In apartheid South Africa, we didn’t have one of the finest constitutions in the world, now we do. In apartheid South Africa, the only women in government were the ones cleaning the spittle and baccy off the floor, now we have actual women ministers. To sum up — and this is going to come as a shock to Kenny Kunene and Julius Malema, the Mutt and Jeff of Japanese cuisine — I think Winnie Mandela, Albertina Sisulu, Helen Suzman, Lindiwe Sisulu and others did in fact struggle to be politically correct.

Catch the whole hilarious article here.

My Latest Road Trip: Part Deux

It’s been a week since the end of my road trip, but I’ve been somewhat lethargic to write about it. It’s not that it was not good; it’s just that I don’t really know what to say about it. So I’ll just give it a shot; maybe some photos will help.

After leaving beautiful Saint Lucia behind, I spent a few days in Durban, and you’ll remember that I was off to the Eastern Cape and the Tsitsikamma Forests. My stop-over in Beacon Bay, East London brings back horrible memories of the err, uncomfortable drive down to the Tsitsikamma area, probably due to some dodgy Sushi I ate there that night, but I won’t forget the wonderful conversation I had with my hostess at the Parrot Peek Inn.

I’ve been almost everywhere in South Africa, and had the privilege to gaze in awe at some of the most stunning scenic beauty that nature provides, but the Tsitsikamma is beyond spectacular. In fact, I’m going to stick my neck out and proclaim that this region in the most beautiful in South Africa; topping even the magnificent Cape Peninsula. It has everything; rich forests with ancient trees, jagged mountain ranges, flowing gorges and a pristine coastline. The early morning mist hanging thick in the air gives the area a surreal and other-worldly look and feel. It’s quite simply, astounding.

Tsitsikamma Mountains

Tstitsikamma Scenic Routes

For my Tsitsikamma adventure, I was based at the Otters Nest in a little village called Storms River. Tsitsikamma is a Khoi-san word meaning place of water (or place of many waters depending on which translation you trust), so I was a little surprised, when my host Jaco informed me that I was to use water sparingly as restrictions were in place. However, this did not prove to be any problem at all.

Natures Valley

Storms River Mouth

Tstitsikamma National Park

Various activity operators offer the adventurous traveller an abundance of adventure-sport such as hiking, zip-lining (The forest Canopy Tour is a firm favorite), abseiling (also known as repelling), boat tours and bungy jumping (the Bloukrans Bridge claims to be the highest commercially operated pure free-fall jump in the world at 216m, but I have since found that the Verzasca Dam in Switzerland is higher, but only just, at 220m). For the less adventurous, gazing at the majestic beauty around you while getting a massage at one of the Spa’s, is a good alternative.

Canopy Tour

I did manage to drive down the East Coast one day, to Knysna which is also quite breathtaking, although there has been far too much development in the Knysna Lagoon area since I was last there many years ago. However, a boat cruise out to the Heads is always a great way to take in the natural beauty of the place. There is also a wonderful upper-floor tapas restaurant at the Knysna Waterfront, the name of which escapes me at the moment.

Knysna Heads

On my way back, to Storms River, I stopped at Plettenburg Bay, and all I can say about this place is that its absolute rubbish. I suppose it was once as stunning as the other locations on the East Coast, but once the developers got their grimy hands on this place at the behest of South Africa’s rich and not-so-famous, it became a shitty little town, just like Margate on Kwa-Zulu Natal’s south coast. Plettenburg bay has been turned into a home-away-from-home for those with too much money; the big inner-city transported to the coast with all its ugly buildings and conveniences.

Ugly Plett

I won’t forget the wonderful evenings dining out at quaint little restaurants, and especially the evening with my host Jaco and his forester-friend Charles, at the backpackers around the corner from the Otters Nest. What a wonderful evening we had, chatting, drinking and shooting pool with the locals and a bunch of German backpackers, with a warm log fire burning in the bar. And afterwards, a drag of Tsitsikamma’s finest – not exactly Durban Poison, but enjoyable all the same, since it’s been such a long time since I indulged.

I found it hard to say goodbye to Storms River, but Port St. Johns and the Wild Coast beckoned. I will definitely come back to Storms River one day; real soon. There was more to see on my way back North, but that’s a story for another day…