Cape Crusader: 01.06

13.1.06

I don't know why this is so funny?

www.stuffonmycat.com

THE CAPE CRUSADER Issue 4: “Our House, is a very, very, very, nice house with…”

I’m sure you’re all thinking by now how irritating it is to hear about my adventures in the sun but I’m afraid you’re going to have to endure another set of crazy tales of misadventure and cultural oddities. Firstly I want to wish you all a merry Christmas and a happy new year from the sunny side of the world. You probably won’t be surprised to hear I’m not missing the cold weather and long nights? However, I am missing the mulled wine and mince pies. Mostly it’s been a quiet month but there have been some notable exceptions.

I moved into my new house at the start of this month, a lovely Victorian villa near the centre of CT. Work’s about a 5min downhill ride and I barely have to push a peddle, quite a change from the vomit inducing ride I was having to do before. The way home is slightly more arduous. Imagine Hampstead Hill but 10x worse. Basically I haven’t managed to cycle all the way home yet. There’s a good reason why bicycle development led to gears, my 19th century bike seems to go like a rocket on the downhill and feels like a skip on the up. Fortunately all my flatmates drive so I’ve managed to get quite a few lifts about the place. Clifton beach is about a 5min drive away and on a Monday night my flatmate Kat goes down there to perform fire Poi. She’s a bit of a hippy at heart but somehow ended up working for the man and hates it with a passion. Her boyfriend Dane spends a lot of time round at the house, he’s a creative director and a really safe guy. I’ll be spending Christmas Eve and Day with his family. I’m also living with a guy called Tamo. He comes from a small town in the Winelands called Franschoek and pretty much personifies the term ‘only gay in the village’. He’s a real drama queen and can be quite tiresome at times. The rest of the time he’s a riot. Basically his father is Achim Von Arnin, who if any of you are into your wine? Donald? Produces one of the best wines in South Africa. My favourite is a fantastic blend of Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, very summery. Unfortunately Tamo’s father is a bit of an old boy and doesn’t really accept that his son is a raving homosexual. When I visited their farm I was approached with caution and almost immediately asked to test my skills on the tennis court. Achim proceeded to smack balls at me as hard as an old codger like him could muster. With a return rate of close to zero he wasn’t too impressed so I starting ranting on about fictional girlfriends and conquests which seem to make him relax a little. We then had a wine tasting session that involved a fair few bottles of wine, a sabre and a strange looking hat from France? No idea about the relevance of the hat, Donald, maybe you could assist with that one. I also live with a polish girl called Paulina. I didn’t really know her before I moved in but I have to say now that she’s got to be one of the most laid back girls I’ve ever met. She’s so laid back she’s virtually horizontal. Basically when she hasn’t got a huge reefer hanging from her mouth she’s loafing around the house in the skimpiest underwear you could imagine. When it’s both at once I can barely control myself. If that wasn’t good enough, all her friends are Eastern European models and frequently visit the house in various states of undress. When I get back to the UK I think we definitely need to arrange a ‘golfing holiday’ to Lithuania. My other housemate is Lane AKA the artist in residence. She’s currently studying fine arts at Cape Town University and in my opinion is very talented. When we moved into the house I spent half a day putting up her canvases. We transformed the house into a gallery and all the walls are covered with her amazing artworks. She also works as a club promoter which get me into most of the hip and happening events for free, man I landed on my feet with these housemates. Also it’s great to live with someone who’s so enthusiastic about art and we find it very easy to while away a few hours talking about artists that we love. She’s even encouraged me to start working on 3d projects again, mainly sculpture and ceramic design, which I hope to get produced through an artist co-operative that exists in Cape Town. All in all I’ve really enjoyed living with these guys so far, they’re a good bunch of people. We’ve had so many laughs together that I’ve virtually erased from my memory the time I spent living with a Christian accountant and a girl with constant pmt.

I’ve been quite skint this month so the nights out have been few and far between. Thankfully Tamo provides the house with enough free wine to sink a fleet. We’ve already sunk a few cruisers and destroyers and in the new years we’re on the hunt for an aircraft carrier. Dane works at a local bar called Saints where I can pull into pretty much any time of the day and be force-fed dangerous concoctions in the name of science. Last weekend I went to the Mother City Queer Project in a rather fetching pair of pink rubber hot pants. I should of packed my own because this pair was a little itchy? Anyway, I got absolutely wasted on rum and tequila and was chased round the club by a bisexual who was certain he’d met me in London 5 years ago. Those days are a little hazy, Mark, Reggie, perhaps you could refresh my memory? When I first arrived I met an Afrikaans girl called Vida from the northern suburbs. She’s a hoot and loves ripping the shit out of me for being English. She invited me to a house party held for a friend’s birthday. Basically it was mayhem, I swiftly dispensed of a bottle of rum and ended up dancing on tables with two of the biggest women I’ve ever seen. Thank god the table was made of hardwood, nothing else would have survived the mauling. At points I was a little lost in conversation; they mostly speak Afrikaans in the northern suburbs which sounds like a very coarse version of Dutch. When they did speak in English it was to insult me. The Afrikaans have an amazing sense of humour and love ripping into each other which Reminded me of Stortford a little bit. I had a very messy but fun evening and eventually took an extremely dangerous taxi ride home at breakneck speeds. I was feeling the force of about 3g’s at one point and almost repeated the infamous Athens incident. Not sure if that would have gone down too well considering this taxi driver was a man mountain and probably could have cracked my head open between his little finger and his thumb. We’ve entertained at home at least once a week with Braii’s (bbqs), stir fries and my legendry Thai curry. Some of the dinner parties have gotten a little rowdy, particularly when the Eastern Europeans start re-enacting the bikini shoots they’ve just completed. Every man in the building seems to loose all sense of decency, it just cannot be helped. I think the Streets came up with the perfect phrase for this kind of blatantly brazen behaviour: “your fit but my god don’t you know it”.

On a more serious note, Chris told me about Himesh’s sad news. To all of you who know him, look after the boy and make sure he’s OK; he’s one in a million.

Until the next issue, peace and love everyone

Alex

August Party Invite

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More Sites of Interest

www.mocoloco.com - Design and Architecture
www.boxesandarrows.com - Arts and Culture
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www.k10k.net - The designers lunchbox
www.superfuture.com - Up-to-date architecture
www.adrants.com - Engaging Look at Advertising
www.london.flavorpill.net - Arts, Culture and Music in London

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Things of Interest

www.3eyes.co.uk - Worth a look
www.verticalfarm.com - Is this for real?
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www.tmfhk.com - Honest, weird and wonderful Music Forum
www.breakfastmedia.com//epic/ - Absolute genious
www.textually.org - know any friends who are addicted to texting?
www.photoblogs.org - I think this ones self explanatory
www.vidblogs.com - More of the above but videos
www.airmassive.com - Popular culture

More Balaklava Moments

Balaklava Moments

THE CAPE CRUSADER Issue 3: ‘A Cold Weather Tonic’

Well boys and girls it’s been an eventful last few weeks in Cape Town and I’m not too sure where to begin. I think the last time I wrote to you all I was looking forward to putting my brain back into gear and begin working for Woolies.

I arrived for my first day of work wearing a rather smart suite that was a completely wasted effort because almost everyone in the office was wearing flip-flops and t-shirts. I overcame my initial embarrassment and set about reading what I think has to be the longest corporate introduction in the world. I’m not the world’s quickest reader and I’m positive I finished all three Lord of the Rings novels in a less time. When you work for the man they really do stipulate everything from which side of the corridor you should walk on to precisely how many pancakes you can have for breakfast. It wasn’t all doom and gloom, some of the chapters were very enlightening, particularly the chapters on corporate ethics and responsible business. Listen to me! I sound like I’ve sold out to the man already, someone needs to hang me upside down and give me a f**king good shake. Tim? Better still, put a pillow over my head, announce; “this is not an exercise” then torture me with hair straighteners and peanut butter for three days. Whatever it takes we will get the truth about how interesting that book really was. Turns out the book’s more useful for reference than anything else, someone could have told me, it’s the kind of embarrassing mistake Jeremy would make. Truthfully the bungee cord is attached to the bridge, just jump and it’ll be fine – right, ok, Geronimo….

I think if I talk about work much more I’ll bore myself into a psychotic episode buy a gun on e-bay and take to the streets on a relentless killing spree. Seriously though I’m very happy with what I’m doing and have few regrets about taking up a position abroad. I know it’s still early days but I’m confident that I’ll be happy working at Woolies. Unfortunately there have been a few cock-ups with my work permit that has resulted in me being unable to work full time. I’ve had to suspend my contract and work on a freelance basis until it arrives. It’s not too serious, just a slight technical hitch that should be smoothed over in January, incidentally by which point I’ll be an illegal alien? Oh it’s fun and games trying to get things sorted out here. It gets better, whoever talked about the cogs of big businesses running smoothly was lying out of their teeth and if you think our government sucks then you should check out the poor excuse there is for governance in SA. I think the office of home affairs is a fictitious institution and that I’m really talking to a woman that works in a meatpacking factory during the night and earns extra money during the day answering phone calls from strange English people who’ve baked up this insane idea they want to work in South Africa. In one conversation I had with them I was asked if I existed! I think the lady was genuinely satisfied when I told her I was an actually an apparition.

So anyway, as you may have gathered, life isn’t without its complications at the moment. Because I’m only working on a freelance basis for Woolies I’ve fostered a few new contacts and begun doing a little work for Team-talk in the UK. If you aren’t aware, they run all sorts of sports information sites on the Internet. You may be wondering why on earth I’m working more than I have to? Especially when I could be sitting on the beach taking in the rays during my spare time. The answer is free tickets to sports events in Cape Town and a serious case of fraud that f**ked my bank balance. Asides from that I’ve also started work on a re-branding exercise for one of their sites called www.sports.co.uk, so if you’ve got time you can check out the progress.

In the time I have had to myself I’ve continued to indulge in the best of what Cape Town has to offer. Obviously I’ve been out for all sorts of work related events and Errol my manager hasn’t listen to any sh*t excuses for not drinking JaegerBombs (Jaegermeister and Redbull), a truly revolting drink that kicks ten bells out of you when you hit double figures. I was so hammered one night that I bounced off every wall and lamppost on the walk home and woke up in the morning to find myself asleep on the patio outside my house with a yard brush for a pillow and a parasol on top of me. As you can imagine my South African flatmates didn’t let me forget that episode for a while. If anyone from the Rum party Crew wants to chastise me for not spreading the good word of the gospel they’re more than welcome because I’m willing to repent for my shameful lapse in faith and take an abstinence from JaegerBombs for life. In my defence I have been spreading the word elsewhere and now have my flatmate Charlie drinking Rum and when I’m not being force fed rank concoctions by so called friends it remains the drink of choice. Viva La Rum Fiesta!

3 weeks ago I went to a place called Robertson about 3hr out of Cape Town. It’s in the mountains and sort of resembles The Lake District. Lane, Kat, Rob and I camped out for the weekend by the side of this huge lake. On both nights we had Braai’s and sat around talking until the embers of the fire finally went out. During the daytime we basked in the heat and went swimming in the lake to cool down. It has to count as one of the most relaxing breaks I’ve ever been on and makes me want to leave the confines of the city more regularly. I’ve also found the best beach ever about 20min drive away in Hout Bay. A friend Danny goes there regularly so I catch a lift with him. There’s great surf and a generous helping of capetownian beauties to distract me as I while away the time building castles with my bucket and spade. Out of interest what’s the weather like at home?:-) On December 1st I’m moving out of my House to a place closer to the city centre. I’ll only be a 10min walk from work. In the last month I’ve been cycling 40mins to town and to be honest what with the heat, it’s knackered the sh*t out of me. There’s a load more to say but I think I’ve probably bored you all to tears by now so I’ll send something again before Christmas.

I hope everyone’s well and enjoying life. Let me know what you’re all up to, I do send personal e-mails???? Don’t let the cold weather get you down!!!

Loads of love and all the best people

Al

THE CAPE CRUSADER issue 2 “Onion Layers”

People, it’s been a while, hope you’re all fairing well? If your name’s Rob and you’re currently residing in a Jacuzzi with models pouring off your arms that give head on tap and basically, you’re living Chris Lo’s ultimate fantasy? I hope you catch syphilis, go mad and die!! Apparently Hitler and Robert Mugabe have more in common than a dodgy moustache?

I’m not too sure where to begin really, feels like ages since I wrote the first issue. I guess I should start somewhere near where I left off...

I moved out of the bridal sweet and into a house about 4 weeks ago. I now live in a suburb called Claremont that’s about 7km from the city centre and bought an old Raleigh bicycle with reverse braking that gets me into town in about 30mins. The public transport system in CT is hopeless, if you catch a train there’s fairly high odds you’ll be thrown out of a window, stabbed, shot or raped before you get to your destination. If you want to catch a bus it’s advised that you take a breakfast, lunch and dinner in Tupperware and plenty of water so you don’t get hungry or thirsty while you wait at the stop. With the choices diminished you’re basically left with catching minicabs AKA minibuses. Before the bicycle I was regularly taking the minicabs into town. From my house they can take anything from 40mins to 1½hrs to get to the city depending on how many people they stop to pick up. You never know who you’re going to meet in a minicab, only last week I was sat next this girl, she asked me what music I was listening too, then asked if I was married, had any children, if I had a girlfriend or wanted a girlfriend? She then stroked my chest hair through my open shirt and jumped out, strange or what? Maybe there’s some sort of mating ritual I’m unaware of or something? There are not many people who cycle in SA and as a consequence I get stared at a lot, especially because I’m riding a dilapidated bicycle that came straight out of the 30’s and I’m a white guy. It’s definitely a subject of amusement for my flatmates who both own cars. The other day I was with a friend Veda, we had just walked to my local bar about 5mins away when she turned round to me and proclaimed that that was the furthest she’d walking since she started driving? Charlie and Brons are the same – they drive across the road to our local shop! No wonder SA has one of the highest carbon dioxide emission levels in the world. They’re lazy in other ways as well. Since I started living with Brons and Charlie neither had done any washing, ironing or dirty dishes and both appear completely incapable of looking after themselves. Instead they employ a maid called Muni to come once a week and do it all for them. Even she’s thinks I’m strange because I do everything myself – I also think she’s worried I’m after her job? There’s no doubt men are winning the battle of the sexes by a country mile in SA, metrosexuality is almost non-existent and mothers still nurse their sons until they’re married. Everyday Veda’s brother has his dinner cooked and delivered to his flat by their mum; he’s 29! It’s all a little beyond me. I mock, but really it’s all a bit of a laugh to be honest and truthfully I’m very thankful for finding a great place to live. I’ve got a garden and everything!

I’ve also had my first visitor from the UK. Sri came out about three weeks ago and stayed for ten days. I managed to borrow a car and we headed off to cape point. The Cape Peninsula AKA Cape of Good Hope is synonymous within shipping circles. In the days of sailing ships, clearing the Cape and its rocks was a dangerous business. Many ships have met a watery grave on the rocks of the cape. You can see seals, penguins and sharks in the shallows and on the rocky outcrops there are baboons and impala. We also found a fantastic beach that was virtually deserted. The novelty of constant hot weather was already beginning to ware thin for me but Sri was taking every opportunity she could to bronze herself so we stayed there for most of the afternoon. I think you can all find that understandable. After the weekend we hired a car and headed due east along the Garden Route that links CT with Port Elizabeth about 800km away. The scenery was fantastic. Our first stop was Hamanos. It is the Whaling Season between September and November. Every year they come to breed in the warmer waters of the Indian Ocean and at Hamanos you can see them about 50m out to sea. Due to the wind that day you couldn’t distinguish between a whale and wave for toffee. My we saw a lot of whales that day, thousands of them! It was all just too much excitement to handle so we went to the beach. We continued up the coastline to a place called Mossel Bay where we stayed for a few nights in a fantastic stone built lodge on a cliff face that had fantastic views down to the sea. The weather was very good so more time was spent at the beach. On our last day of the trip we went to a place called The Wilderness. This was the highlight of our travels, a huge 4km long stretch of deserted beach that has massive 15ft waves continually pounding the shoreline. More sunbathing and a 7hr drive back to CT and I was spent. I can’t get over how there’s so much fantastic coastline. Before Sri left there was an exceptionally clear day so we headed up Table Mountain to check out the views. For a while I almost had Sri convinced we could walk back down. Then I stopped a Frenchman and asked how steep the route was, he quite bluntly proclaimed, “if you wear those shoes I am almost certain you will break you ankles, fall off the mountain and die!” Encouraging stuff, cable car it is then? Sri: you were wonderful company and I enjoyed every moment of your stay, thanks for coming x – To all the rest of you so called friends – If my ex, who’d I’d like to bury a hatchet into can make the effort, what’s holding all the people I actually like up - sort it out!

I went to bar a few weeks back and met this really interesting guy called Mikallo. He’s a gospel house DJ and Evangelical preacher, an interesting combination that stimulated some very thought-provoking conversation. When we parted company he said a pray for me which involved a lot of shouting and violent swinging of the arms, considering it was in the middle of a packed bar I felt a little embarrassed. He’s obviously a very religious man so it was probably not the smartest idea to start talk about bestiality (Needless to say I was a bit pissed). I learnt two very fascinating pieces of South African trivia during that brief encounter. Firstly that South Africans identify each other within three distinctive racial groups. Obviously white and black but then also coloured. Coloureds are defined as anyone who’s not black and not white so that Chinese, Indian, Pakistani, Turkish etc... There is more racism between blacks and coloureds than any other combination because during apartheid they were both considered citizens of a lower class but the coloureds argued they were not black and should be able to share some of the privileges that were bestowed upon white people. In the post apartheid era the two groups are constantly battling over the reorganisation of land rites and the quota system because the reconfiguring of these systems only account for black South Africans, not coloureds. In post-apartheid South Africa coloureds get just as shit a deal as before apartheid. The second thing I learned from our conversation is why so many Black and Coloured South Africans don’t have any front teeth. In my ignorance I assumed they’d eaten too much sugar, not so, although anecdotally, if you order a cup of tea or coffee in SA it comes with two sugars as standard, you have ask if you want it without. Anyway, back to the real reason. Both men and women have their teeth knocked out so they can perform better oral sex. A husband will ask his virgin bride to knock her teeth out to not only signify that she is a married woman but also so she can give good head? When a man reaches puberty he will have his teeth removed for the same reason. They are called passion gaps. I tried not to laugh but found the fact I was talking about this with a preacher all very bizarre.

Since I arrived I’ve been out most nights and met a lot of cool people. They love a drink just as much as we do and are open to being educated about Rum. 7yr Havana Club: 70R a bottle, some may now understand what an effect I’m having out here. Consequently I’ve met a lot of people whose names I can’t remember. You’re definitely desirable to be what Afrikaans call a thoroughbred (An Englishman) and you have to be careful because they all want your babies. Again, anyone with a fetish for blonde would do very well for himself out here. There’s plenty of meat markets to shop in and an endless supply of prime cuts. Sorry for the crudeness ladies, it just has to be said.

I think that’s about all folks. I’m starting work on Tuesday so wish me luck. I miss you all.

THE CAPE CRUSADER issue 1: “The Beginning’

So here’s the low down, and before you read my trip hasn’t even been half as exciting as Rob’s Singaporean stories so far. Stop reading now if you want tales of sordid adventures with petit Asian women and FHM models. It ain’t no Casino Royale out here yet! When I arrived I had no idea what to expect, my guide was next to useless and only really covered the basics. Thanks for the guide Al but it was only useful as a map, I have no idea how the AA can produce a guide on the whole of SA with only 62 pages? In hindsight it wasn’t the best example of forward planning. My first night was spent in a Hostel recovering from my sleepless flights and nursing some rather sore arms and legs. On Monday I’d been to my doctor to get the necessary injections only to find he wanted to give me one in each arm, each leg and my bum. Great! I thought to myself. Economy class isn’t the most comfortable way to travel and certainly not when you have to sit on a tetanus jab for close to 24hrs. I now have a very good idea how painful piles must be. I stopped over in Doha, Qatar for about 2hrs waiting for my connecting flight. Although I only saw the terminal it did start to make me think that a visit to the Middle East should be on the cards at some point. Ok, can anyone explain why now when you want to smoke in an airport you’re forced into an animal pen with a herd of smokers within which you all clamber for a breathe of fresh air. My eyes have never watered so much. I’m sure it breaches human rights or something (Rob, let me know about that one).

When I arrived I caught a cab from the airport with a young Dutch girl. No I didn’t jump her and no I didn’t regale stories of going green in Amsterdam. Petra was about my age and needed to go to the Tourist Office, sounded like a good idea considering I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. Surprisingly African roads are a lot less hectic than you would expect, every car has about ten black passengers or one white man and there are some really decrepit motors that look like they belong in the Flintstones. Dupai the driver even let us off 15R because we didn’t have the right change. That really does highlight how laid-back things are out here. On my first night I stayed in a Hostel called the Castle Backpackers that was run by a Kiwi called Jeff. Ok word of warning, some people who have lived here for a long time are a little paranoid, Jeff was one of those. “Don’t go out alone, don’t carry anything valuable on you in fact a loin cloth will do, ah f**k it, don’t leave the hostel: drink my free coffee all day, much safer.” Whatever? He was a little over the top, sure you need to be savvy and security conscious but not to the extent that it inhibits what you want to do. Basically I’m not your ideal candidate for a mugging, I don’t smell of expensive aftershave, wear a Rolex, drive a Mercedes or look like I’m absolutely pimping it. Every night you can here the expensive screech of another BMW being ragged around the city streets after some South African stopped at a set of lights and refused to have his window screen washed, more fool him, even if I was on a push bike I’d have my sunnies washed for fear of loosing my life over 20p? Needless to say I changed hostels and opted for something a little more laid back. I found a place called the Cat and Moose and for the price of a Mars Bar booked into the bridal sweet. Yesterday I went for a run that turned into a Herculean feat of endurance. 2 inches on the map does not represent two miles? More like 7, I was truly buggered by the end. It was about 35C and I could feel my shoes melting on the pavement. I ran to a place called Camps Bay that is the surf spot in Cape Town. Very uber cool and a little pretentious, I fitted right in but found the place a little too much like a European beach resort? Asides from the fact I’d felt my heart burst and my lungs explode on the way I still found time to marvel at the amazing breaks. Think I’ll definitely have to give surfing a go at some point.

I’ve met some really cool people at the C&M, a doped up couple from Georgia US called Dave and Maria and a guy from Nashville Tennessee who has the most incredible American drool I’ve ever encountered. There’s also a lovely married couple from Malaysia who cooked Fish for all of us on the Barbie last night. The husband Michael must have read every National Geographic in print because he has a near encyclopaedic knowledge of African ornithology and Safari animals, not bad for a chef. At points he’d lick his lips in glee when describing an animal, thankfully most are protected so there’s no chance of him putting any on the Barbie. Amazing tales where shared over dinner that really inspired me to head out to the Kruger National Park and see it all for myself. They all thing I’m some sort of trustifarian which makes me laugh. Paul the guy from Nashville things I’m loaded because I’m English? Work that one out? Today I went flat hunting; it’s a difficult process because so many areas are out of bounds for white people. Incredibly cheap, about £75 a month for a massive room, shared garden and pool. I wasn’t too impressed with what I saw because of the locations so the search continues. For the moment anyway I’m comfortable in the Hostel amongst my heart shaped pillows and pink sheets.

Last night I went to the bar where Dave and Maria work with Paul from Tennessee, so heavy, absolutely pissed out of my mind. I was drinking double rums for £1, met some cool people and had a bit of a boogy. I think I slightly over did the drink because I’ve got a serious case of the shakes this morning. I met this guy called Siad and his sister Sian from Durban, we ended up doing loads of tequila and dancing until 5 in the morning. It’s about 9 now and I’m still wankered. Ok, Cape Town has a disproportionate number of blondes, I did a head count last night and in my near vicinity there were 14 blondes. All the girls have blonde hair, either bleached by the sun or out of the bottle, ridiculous? If anyone has a fetish for blonde girls here’s your place. I hear the weather’s sh*t in the UK? Well, I think you all know that the summer truly ended when I left, if you didn’t think so before you definitely know it now! Seriously though, I’m missing you all so much. If you come and visit you’re guaranteed a good time. More news from SA in the next issue of ‘THE CAPE CRUSADER’

Peace and Love Everyone

Cape Crusader