tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64065612011-08-02T01:06:01.515+02:00Pom du Cap: Ramblings of an expat Brit in Cape Town. Currently experiencing intermittent service. Put your feet up.Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comBlogger1571100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-40847445657893659942011-03-31T22:26:00.001+02:002011-03-31T22:26:25.736+02:00

New phone, swype keyboard, new blogger interface. Finally managed to persuade email to work, and rather enjoying being able to customise everything. Let's hope this interface works first go as I'm running out of tech stamina...

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-31368494514017855862010-03-02T11:16:00.000+02:002010-03-02T11:17:14.199+02:00

So a Tory peer has come out as a non dom. Presumably he's therefore a sub, like the rest of the Tory peers?

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-46381705265293280622009-12-04T19:54:00.000+02:002009-12-04T20:05:39.289+02:00

I have to write about this - I need to get it out of my system.Most of us make friends among the people we work with. As a consultant, a lot of the people I work with, therefore some of my work friends, are clients; now ex-clients. I have been to two weddings and a 50th birthday in the recent past of ex-clients. This post is about a specific client, who I invited to my 40th, but he forgot to come

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-51883803634649597852009-10-26T22:24:00.000+02:002009-10-26T22:30:15.889+02:00

I have been doing a fair bit of running recently, spurred by the milestone birthday that I’ve just passed, and trying to get fit. The problem is that I have also been concurrently celebrating that birthday in the usual fashion. I am now happily fit, fat and forty. Onwards and upwards, the next challenge is a marathon. Here in South Africa, marathons are a bit commonplace, with ultra marathons a

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-44324013441386302452009-10-16T13:02:00.000+02:002009-10-16T13:03:50.036+02:00

Holy crap! The Red Cross just called to tell me that they have accepted me to be one of their runners in the London Marathon in April. I'm chuffed to bits, and terrified all at once. Sponsorship details will be going up here soon - so start saving. I can't believe how fast it's all happened - I only sent them an application a few days ago.Now all I have to do is train...

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-40256056381635476512009-10-15T10:16:00.000+02:002009-10-15T10:22:41.732+02:00

Number one son is too young, even at the advanced age of nine and a half, to have been exposed to all the cynicism of the world, or to have heard all the adages of the ages. I do my bit on the grumpy old cynic front, but some things you have to learn for yourself. He's been trying to teach the dog to fetch. He started by throwing bits of food. The next step was to put the food into an old tennis

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-72560909657334192052009-10-01T09:02:00.000+02:002009-10-01T09:05:13.722+02:00

Good morning to anyone who has come here from Jonny B's place. Sorry it's a bit messy - haven't been around much lately. I hope you enjoy my growing police car collection. If you haven't come from Jonny's, then what are you waiting for?

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-33127987590814147812009-09-16T08:27:00.000+02:002009-09-16T08:28:43.097+02:00

...and he's got no seatbelt on. You'll have to take my word for it, but you can see the absence of any line from the door pillar to his shoulder. Still working on a better one.

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-90480085910292985432009-06-18T10:39:00.001+02:002009-06-18T10:39:28.463+02:00

Loaded yet another new thing on the old iPhone, this time for blogging, so let's see if it works...Posted with LifeCast

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-57459029318773537422009-05-26T08:42:00.000+02:002009-05-26T08:45:56.544+02:00

Well, still more pictures of crash barriers than policemen with no seatbelts. It's remarkably difficult to take a picture of one moving vehicle from another with a phone camera. I did however enlist the help of my son to take this picture in traffic on the way to the IPL cricket. It was a good time to be illegal, since every cop in Cape Town was at Newlands, but still - a police car with no

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-91245381188061820942009-05-24T22:13:00.000+02:002009-05-24T22:13:35.968+02:00

Since South Africa has no other crime issues to speak of, the government has decided to outlaw one or two things that you might argue don't do anyone else much harm. One is smoking in public, about which I blogged a while ago. The second is wearing seatbelts while driving. Both of these rules are often ignored by sections of the population that you would think would know better. On cigarette

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-24911627474190965752009-03-21T11:52:00.003+02:002009-03-21T11:55:54.683+02:00

You couldn't make this up department, entry no 17: Sekunjalo (JSE:SKJ) have just appointed as an executive director the Chairman's (Ego's) PA. The obvious question is: blackmail, or blowjob?

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-29188668741583307122009-02-18T21:00:00.005+02:002009-04-11T17:34:36.550+02:00

Everything you need to know about life, you learned in the playground. Of course you don't figure that out for another 30 or 40 years. Maybe as parents we can learn from kid related dilemmas. Let me give you an example.Son no. 1 goes to the local school. It's a lovely school, but is not really big enough to support extensive facilities, and seems to be teetering perpetually on the margins of

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-13191664646791601082009-02-18T20:27:00.002+02:002009-02-18T20:40:45.726+02:00

Just over a year since my last post. Nice going. I felt like blogging again, since blogs are the new facebook - or something - and decided to read what I last wrote before I started. Valentine's day last year was the last time I wore a tie - at that board meeting in Gaborone - until the same date this year. This time it was a bow tie.We Poms are inclined not to take things too seriously, which is

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-81325023252241717382008-02-14T18:54:00.004+02:002008-02-14T19:02:20.125+02:00

Popping up to Botswana for the day again, and watching the silent movie content that South African Airways force-feeds you in cattle class. Along with the slapstick TV gags, they have a loop that runs on the TV plugging Kwa Zulu Natal. One of the features is an artist, who is apparently from an "imminent" family in KZN. Maybe she's pregnant. It reminds me of one of my old posts on a similar

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-53042516364539483152008-02-05T08:30:00.000+02:002008-02-05T20:38:40.985+02:00

I've just noticed that it's over a year since my last blog here. In the meantime I'd been blogging elsewhere about my work woes - elsewhere because I had got a bit liberal with the address of this blog. I don't mind complete strangers reading about my professional life, but the concern that it might get to the people it was about led me to create another one. Anyway the upshot of the business

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1169812847345014762007-01-26T13:56:00.000+02:002007-01-26T14:00:47.376+02:00

One of the nice things about South Africa is that it’s a metric country. What this means for a relocated Pom is that I live in blissful ignorance of some of the important issues of daily life. For example, I find from the scales in the gym that I weigh about 96kg. Sounds good to me. Then I converted it, and discover that I am over 15 stone, which came as a bit of a shock. I’m not a complete fat

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1169755566710195402007-01-25T22:04:00.000+02:002007-01-25T22:06:06.723+02:00

One of those email pictures that does the rounds every so often has a picture of an alluring young lady, with a caption that reads something like “somebody, somewhere is tired of her crap”. So it is with old cars. To pinch the old adage from the yachting fraternity, the two happiest days of your life are the day that you buy your classic car – and the day that you sell it. When you first clap

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1163746963238705972006-11-17T09:01:00.000+02:002006-11-17T09:02:43.250+02:00

Let me recount an incident that I witnessed a while ago. It took place at a coffee shop near my kids’ school – the one with a carpark that fills up at 8am with 4x4s, erratcially parked by mothers the wrong side of their first cup of coffee. This place is quite smart – it even has some white waitresses, and all the staff are friendly and efficient. I was having a cup of coffee and minding my own

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1157239015344163862006-09-03T01:15:00.000+02:002006-09-03T01:16:55.360+02:00

My wife is pregnant (he remarks as if he his last blog was just yesterday), which is creating a bit of a problem in bed. The additional girth, you see, creates a bit of a physical problem. It’s the duvet. Under normal circumstances, I am bigger than my wife, and therefore I have the edge in the nocturnal battle over the duvet, Cape Town still being a bit chilly in the evenings towards the end of

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1144852563192979012006-04-12T16:29:00.000+02:002006-04-12T16:36:03.230+02:00

This really is the best time of year in Cape Town. The weather is still warm but not too hot, the wind has died down a bit, and most of the tourists have gone. Don't tell anyone. Better still is that the combination of a Christian heritage (Easter), the peaceful revolution (the first elections), and some communists in power (Workers' Day), we get four 4-day weeks in a row!I just found an article

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1141808306162518052006-03-08T10:40:00.000+02:002006-03-08T10:58:26.210+02:00

I have a colleague / employee who just resigned. By email. Let's call him Phil.Anyway he's now sitting in the office, sulkily serving out his notice period because not having him starting on what he wants to do next actually suits us. Trouble is, I'm now in the same situation as when you've just decided to dump a girlfriend (or a wife - haven't you got the Phil Collins link yet?). His continued

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1140683683015844112006-02-23T10:14:00.000+02:002006-02-23T10:34:43.026+02:00

Cape Town is dark. Well part of the time anyway. Thanks to someone leaving a bolt in the reactor (or something very similar) when they repaired it, one of the nuclear reactors is down. The other reactor can't cope. The western cape's power comes from a nuclear power station just north of the city. One of the many angry letters to the local paper claimed that it is built to the same design as

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1139213955241942242006-02-06T09:34:00.000+02:002006-02-06T10:19:15.296+02:00

I had a bit of a dilemma this weekend. My son, soon to turn 6, has been playing what he calls “Lego Star Wars” on the Playstation belonging to his friend’s big brother. I have no idea whether this Lego thing is some kind of joint marketing campaign, or some misunderstanding on my part, but the Playstation bit explains why he thinks everyone comes back from the dead. Anyway, having seen the game,

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1138959111369824282006-02-03T09:00:00.000+02:002006-02-03T11:31:51.770+02:00

I love this country! Local elections on the 1st of March - you know the kind of thing. Only the local politicians are interested and only their immediate family bothers to vote. You typically get a level of turnout that would make a bisexual Muslim punk in Texas look popular.Anyway, there are clearly certain forces at play. One: the ANC is in power. In a big way. Two: unlike a national election,

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1138718985898274122006-01-31T11:09:00.000+02:002006-01-31T16:49:45.956+02:00

I'm an iPodder!! Very exciting - I got one for Christmas. This was a gift from my wonderful wife, spurred partly by her guilt at my birthday present collection. If I recall correctly, the pile of presents yielded a torch, a bright orange bathmat, a duvet cover, and a half eaten bar of chocolate. The last of these my daughter was particularly pleased with, promptly laying claim to the little that

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1136450355782213972006-01-05T10:27:00.000+02:002006-01-05T10:39:15.796+02:00

Happy new year. Yes thanks, you? Always nice to come back to work though isn’t it? Bollocks.South Africa is having a relatively good festive season on the roads – only 1162 people killed in December, which is lower than usual. We have a pretty poor road safety record at the best of times – bribe-able police, poorly maintained vehicles with no regular checks on roadworthiness, gym bunnies in huge

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1134131133859056912005-12-09T14:22:00.000+02:002005-12-09T14:25:33.870+02:00

It appears that my "normal service has been resumed" header may have been a teeny bit optimistic. Still, if you're interested in South Africa's politics and race relations - and maybe your interest has been piqued by the double scandal of corruption and rape charges that our esteemed ex deputy president finds himself facing - then the Economist’s opinion is pretty much spot on, apart from the bit

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1133344588242479552005-11-30T11:37:00.000+02:002005-11-30T11:56:28.253+02:00

The things you notice when you emigrate are the social norms that no longer apply. As a Pom, my senses of obligation and politeness are fairly well developed. That’s not to say that I always follow my conscience, but at least I am aware of when I am ignoring it. Example: if someone invites me round for dinner, then I will probably invite them back. I can’t help it – unless it was a complete

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1132234809917034102005-11-17T15:36:00.000+02:002005-11-17T15:40:09.933+02:00

My son goes to a lovely school in the small suburb of Cape Town that we live in. My daughter will go there next year. It is a fee paying school, so all the parents are relatively well-off, and trying to buy the best all round education for their kids. The parents feel that on balance, the school is the best place for their kids. It’s local, they know it, and it is an easy and reassuring option at

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1132037268141963222005-11-15T08:41:00.000+02:002005-11-15T08:47:48.150+02:00

Moments of modern manhood – watching Survivor with your 5 year old son. After their victory in one of the challenges, the token gay guy is doing his ‘what this means to me’ piece to camera.“Why is he crying Dad?” He’s American and on TV – it makes them emotional. Not really:“He’s sad that he didn’t try at some things in his life, and now he’s in a team that’s winning, he wishes he’d tried harder

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1131627943044731122005-11-10T11:57:00.000+02:002005-11-10T15:05:43.096+02:00

So what did I miss? Well, we finished that tricky project. It was rounded off nicely with a dinner at which the entire executive team sat at their own table, away from the plebs, then without exception left early. So no problems there then. I sometimes think that the main role that consultants play is to talk to the staff, find out what needs to be done, and tell the management. The two would

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1122236826846642592005-07-24T22:20:00.000+02:002005-07-25T12:09:27.270+02:00

In London last month, while waiting for the barrel to be changed in a pub, a friend and I got chatting to a girl next to us who was waiting on a couple of Chardonnays. We talked for maybe 3 or 4 minutes, and in that time, we decided we knew her. She was attractive, well dressed, well spoken, and self confident. That much you could tell from looking and chatting. I can also tell you that she went

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1121760114072566232005-07-19T09:59:00.000+02:002005-07-25T12:05:47.996+02:00

I had an expat moment yesterday. A colleague’s handbag was lying on the desk, surrounded by the things that had fallen out of it. The handbag itself was about an inch across, 8 inches long and 4 deep. Out of it had come a PDA, a large purse, some keys, a lipstick and a cellphone. “It’s like the Tardis!”“What?”“You know, the Tardis – Dr Who.”“Dr Who?”“Dr Who. Ah. It’s a TV show – his time machine

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1121549224557033662005-07-16T23:16:00.000+02:002005-07-19T09:59:02.190+02:00

A little late, but I can’t move on without commenting on the events of the 7th July. I was quite surprised at how it made me feel: shocked, emotional, fucking furious. And homesick. It made me want to move back to London. I feel like I need to be close. I guess it’s a form of patriotism: I want to be there for my city – anyone who has lived there for any length of time becomes a Londoner to some

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1118179300209886702005-06-08T10:09:00.000+02:002005-07-19T09:57:15.390+02:00

Going back to London in particular always feels a bit strange. It is one of the world’s great cities, there are places that I love to visit, and I feel a tug to return for good whenever I am there. It always feels that it holds so much promise, and I miss it. This feeling of missing London is one that I have had before, and having considered it at length, I am pretty sure that what I actually

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1118179228985475242005-06-07T23:18:00.000+02:002005-07-19T09:44:48.776+02:00

I’ve just got back from 3 weeks in the UK visiting friends & family and going to a wedding. It gave me a chance to catch up on the all the British things I miss (as well as friends). I met lots of kids that I had not seen for a while, or, - in many cases – ever. I also noticed a lot of things that have changed. There seem to be more trucks on the roads, which all seem to have lower speed limits,

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1115583244897728642005-05-09T10:12:00.000+02:002005-07-25T12:01:04.240+02:00

Having just moved into this house last week – OK, April – we are now in the process of moving again. The main reason is financial. We need a year or so of not living here so we can afford to come back and live in it. You’d think someone as smart and savvy as me would have figured out that we couldn’t afford the house before building it, wouldn’t you? The main concern about moving is not the kids,

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1115582646030930242005-05-08T22:01:00.000+02:002005-07-24T22:30:32.603+02:00

We decided to take our clients out to dinner. So we don’t have to talk to them too much, we went to a very smart local hotel that has a small 16 seat cinema. The invitation, rather swakily put together by yours truly, offered a choice of three movies: Butch & Sundance, Groundhog Day, and Rear Window. Picking the movies was a very long and not very democratic process, within the constraints of no

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1114068134288782822005-04-21T09:21:00.000+02:002005-07-19T09:39:25.363+02:00

For a city that is noted by South Africans for its wind and rain, Cape Town always seems to react with shock and incompetence to a good storm. We had one the other day – very impressive from under the duvet. The following morning it was still raining. Rain seems to totally bewilder Cape Town’s drivers. Traffic jams all over the place, not helped by floods and dodgy robots, sorry traffic lights.

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1108584916652633872005-02-16T22:12:00.000+02:002005-07-19T09:34:11.256+02:00

A lot of Brits think that South Africans are arrogant. There is a grain of truth in this, and I’ve just worked out why. The South Africans that the Brits meet are inevitably the white ones. This almost certainly means that they are fairly well educated, and are in the upper echelons of their society as far as wealth and education. It occurred to me last night that the feeling that you are

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1106567041591897932005-01-24T13:42:00.000+02:002005-07-19T09:49:53.273+02:00

Bollocks. It had to happen. Some bird has covered “The Whole of the Moon”. Badly. I’m sure this didn’t happen in my youth. We had covers, but they were better, surely. There must be legions of smug bastard record industry types sitting around going through single digit “Now That’s What I Call Music” CDs trying to find suitable material for their latest protégé. The only benefit so far of this

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1105002301060725962005-01-06T10:57:00.000+02:002005-07-19T09:42:32.966+02:00

I note that Michael Schumacher, the world's second richest sportsman, has donated $10 million to tsunami disaster relief. Good on yer Michael. Now, who is the world's richest sportsman, I hear you ask? Tiger Woods of course. Where is his mother from? Thailand.My faith in human nature suggests that either Mr Woods prefers anonymity, or I missed the news item. Either way, I think the Bill Gates /

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1104177903328818252004-12-27T22:03:00.000+02:002005-07-19T09:31:15.366+02:00

Sometimes I hate being abroad. Most of the best friends I have I made at college about 10 or 15 years ago. Bloody hell, now I feel old. Anyway, out of 8 or 9 weddings, I have been at 3 - including mine; and precisely one stag do, not including mine, which I do vaguely remember being at. The final wedding of this generation is coming up in May, and it would take a lot to stop me being there, but

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1103875974063599782004-12-24T10:07:00.000+02:002004-12-27T22:14:04.706+02:00

In the traditions of dodgy Christmas recycling of back catalogue in the hope of getting a few more hits, have a look at the selection to the right under 'Creme du Pom'. If you've seen all that already, then my apologies for the lack of new material - work has been hectic and I haven't yet finished my Christmas shopping. Here's wishing us allp eace, prosperity and gentle hangovers.

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1103055428116968112004-12-14T22:13:00.000+02:002004-12-15T12:42:30.550+02:00

Under a bit of pressure work wise at the moment, so just a quickie. Today's snippet of genius: two separate complaints that I had disabled the automatic reminder in Outlook for meetings that I had set up. Apparently it's hard to remember to turn up to a meeting if the computer doesn't remind you 15 minutes before. Also, Haloscan and Firefox seem to have fallen out, so I am unable to leave

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1102413389139377212004-12-07T11:56:00.000+02:002005-02-16T22:17:41.380+02:00

You may have noticed a certain slowing up of the material here. The good reason for that is that work has suddenly become much busier. As expected, the procrastination on the part of the client now become a time crisis for the consultant. ’Twas ever thus. One day I’m going to point out the inconsistencies and hypocrisies in the way that clients treat their consultants. The day I quit probably.

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1102355762127797802004-12-06T19:55:00.000+02:002004-12-07T10:24:13.306+02:00

Last week was my son’s first ever school concert. His role? Child one. His only line was the first line, and after that we sat through a jazzed up version of the Christmas story as portrayed by 4 to 7 year olds. As always, the parents provided me with the greatest entertainment. This being Cape Town, there was a fair sprinkling of ageing hippy chicks in the kind of outfits that are going to

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1102069333338841002004-12-03T13:20:00.000+02:002004-12-03T12:22:13.336+02:00

You may recall a certain back problem suffered by yours truly. I’ve tried everything short of the local sangoma to put it right, culminating in sporadic attendance at a hitherto all female Pilates class. Finally I have discovered something that seems to help: an ear infection. The inside of my left ear has decided to swell up to the point where I am partially deaf, and touching the side of my

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1101502919517496692004-11-26T23:01:00.000+02:002004-12-07T11:39:58.580+02:00

Never blog when you’re drunk says Scary. Bollocks says Pom. We’ve just come back from a party at the house of a father of a friend of our son, if that makes sense. It’s a great way to meet people, having kids. You are guaranteed to have something in common, even if it is only bags under the eyes and stains on your carpets. This promised to be a similar occasion to the usual: lots of Mum totty,

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1101205170658343222004-11-23T11:52:00.000+02:002004-12-27T22:10:08.683+02:00

I wrote briefly a while ago about the Labour government and their various bright ideas, one of which is the fox hunting ban that they have just forced onto the statute books. I was going to have a bit of a rant about it, but a grumpy old man of my acquaintance has done a much better job than I would have. When a government starts making laws like this, then it's well past its sell by date.

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1100242377048887492004-11-12T08:52:00.000+02:002004-12-27T22:08:17.036+02:00

Another expat, in this case an Irishman, pointed out the other day just how long the pecking order that had evolved in the Irish civil war lasted for. His reckoning was for 40 or 50 years. He cited Eamon de Valera, who was first imprisoned during the Easter uprising of 1916, sentenced to death, then released in 1917, imprisoned a couple more times, and finally became Taoiseach, and then president

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1099907442724341732004-11-08T11:48:00.000+02:002004-12-27T22:09:42.126+02:00

I’m typing this into my Pom du Cap brain dump at about 11.15 on Sunday night. I’ve just finished watching Fahrenheit 9/11, and I can’t sleep. The thing that struck me, amongst all the talk of Saudis, WMDs, and Halliburton, is the bit about the utter lack of any link between Iraq and 9/11. I realised when Moore made the point that this almost surprised me. Although I am a cynical thinker, I had

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1099477510747123552004-11-03T13:24:00.000+02:002004-12-05T22:55:36.636+02:00

Oh crap. I have spent a lot of time in America, and it is a fabulous and beautiful country. Some of my good friends are intelligent, witty, humorous Americans. The country’s cities are awe-inspiring, but pale next to the vast plains, the mountains, parks and deserts. It has the potential to be the greatest nation on earth. The inclusivity of the great melting pot, and the value placed on the

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1098977315793611172004-10-28T17:28:00.000+02:002004-11-12T09:58:55.000+02:00

At last! Our client has finally made up their mind, so work is getting busy again. This means that the additions to this blog are going to get less regular, and probably shorter. Looks like career number four will have to wait until a more terminal crisis. Now I’m left with a nagging discomfort with the whole corporate, business thing. I feel as though I am less than convincing in what I am doing

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1098443828006629692004-10-22T13:16:00.000+02:002004-11-23T11:29:11.650+02:00

Ahh, South Africa… you’ve got to love it, and I do, despite what I sometimes type here. Our president, Thabo Mbeki, was on TV last night. On SABC (the state broadcaster), he was reiterating the government’s commitment to healthcare and the fight against AIDS. On eTV, he was dodging some difficult questions from the opposition about his beliefs about the causes of AIDS, and refusing to be

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1098346518843760162004-10-21T10:14:00.000+02:002004-10-21T13:50:59.236+02:00

The South African dinner party expression for petty theft is affirmative shopping. This sums it up beautifully – just helping myself to something I would have had anyway, but for the colour of my skin and the whole apartheid thing. Think of it as redistribution. A pathetic liberal like me almost agrees with it. At least I did until the buggers nicked my stuff. Even then, I sympathise. Here’s me:

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1098270999506010942004-10-20T13:08:00.000+02:002004-10-21T13:51:47.100+02:00

While I’m in the mood for a rant, I think I’ll compose a letter to Momentum. Dear Momentum, As you may remember, I recently cancelled my pension contributions. You then sent me a letter detailing a charge of $50 for this service, despite the fact that all of your costs are in Rands, and all of your employees in South Africa. The investment is offshore, denominated 50/50 in Euros and dollars, so

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1098085641677751322004-10-17T18:45:00.001+02:002004-10-21T13:53:07.986+02:00

The fucking builders have been at it again. This time one of them, and again I think I know who, has stolen my drill – a wedding present from my brother. They are the most poorly-equipped builders in the world, forever borrowing my tools, both with and without permission, but this time the loan seems to have been permanent. Discovering the theft has totally buggered up my day. I find myself

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1097837335127378142004-10-15T13:46:00.000+02:002004-10-21T13:52:33.533+02:00

Anglo-African contrast number 47: in an attempt to reduce my monthly outgoings, I have been getting insurance quotes on cars. When doing the same in the UK, I seem to remember that the key factor was the insurance group that the car was in. This was determined by its size, cost and power, i.e. how likely are you to get into an expensive accident? In South Africa, there were no questions about

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1097745130537086662004-10-14T11:08:00.000+02:002004-10-29T15:29:07.846+02:00

Maybe it’s just the blogs I read, but there seem to be a lot of guys out there who have down shifted, changed their perspective, or otherwise slowed down their lives. Maybe they have more time on their hands, or have given themselves a job that they can do in a few hours a day, leaving the rest free for writing. Maybe that was the idea in the first place. Maybe they need a voice now that nobody's

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1097659703196078012004-10-13T11:27:00.000+02:002004-10-18T12:01:25.693+02:00

When you drive from home to somewhere new, it always seems to take ages. The anticipation of “it may be just around the next corner” stretches time so that the outward journey always seems much longer than the homeward one. I was thinking about this because I find myself at the moment being screwed around by a client on a proposal. Waiting on someone else to take a decision that will dictate the

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1097487859034132562004-10-11T11:43:00.000+02:002004-10-18T12:00:32.750+02:00

The family went for a walk on Saturday: dogs, kids, and all. We went up to the dunes above Hout Bay. I had never been up there before, and it is beautiful. You climb a sandy slope from the car park, through some bushes, and then come out onto the top to find a lunar landscape unfolded before you. The dazzling sand sweeps away in great curves to the hillside, which was covered in purple flowers –

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1097232680151776502004-10-08T13:46:00.000+02:002004-10-14T11:13:15.400+02:00

I was in the gym last night, sitting on a cycling thingy, listening to Paul Weller on the headphones while watching some cricket, when I noticed a Sky News headline on the next TV. The headline was something like: "Blair says Saddam was about to build WMDs". Is it just me, or is this a bit "Minority Report"? Uncle Tone seems to be suggesting that Saddam was guilty of intent. I agree with sorting

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1097051292215637612004-10-06T10:09:00.000+02:002004-10-14T11:12:45.266+02:00

My wife, as I may have mentioned before, is an amazing woman. She has an incredible energy, which I sometimes find a bit scary, but is usually a force for good. She is also determined and dogged. This may be something to do with her Scottish ancestry. Her latest idea is a good example of what I am sometimes up against. The boss has seen some pictures in a magazine of some Christmas lights. Now

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1096971836170601132004-10-05T13:23:00.000+02:002004-10-13T16:43:16.373+02:00

One of South Africa’s problems is that there is no viable opposition to the ruling party. The opposition parties are reactionary, with few coherent policies other than attacking whatever the ANC does, or picking on whatever the latest hot issue is. The other minor parties are grouped around specific demographic groups or narrow issues. This leaves the ANC in a position where it feels unassailable

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1096893115560060472004-10-04T14:29:00.000+02:002004-10-11T11:49:48.943+02:00

Yesterday I was taking the dogs for a walk when one of them was hit by a car. We live in an estate with private roads where dogs and kids supposedly have the right of way. The trouble is that a lot of the roads are steep, and it is very easy to pick up speed coming down a hill. They are also twisty, and there are a lot of corners where the view ahead is obscured by the (indigenous) shrubbery. The

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1096544851969693042004-09-30T13:22:00.000+02:002004-09-30T14:01:13.080+02:00

Surfing does not do it for me. Growing up in the Midlands (British, not Natal), I didn’t get much opportunity, but the whole surfer dude thing just gets on my nerves. Love the Beach Boys, just can’t stand to hear grown men wibbling on about great waves. Part of the problem is that I used to work with a couple of guys who spent every spare hour in the surf, and wound me up in so many other ways

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1096467362383431502004-09-29T16:13:00.000+02:002004-09-30T12:56:38.456+02:00

So, I had a great holiday thanks. In the interests of enabling lie-ins by sending her the kids early in the morning, and to provide ourselves with a baby sitter for the evenings, the mother in law came with us. Her room number at the hotel? 101. I'm saying nothing.

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1096288202401627212004-09-27T14:27:00.000+02:002004-10-11T11:48:57.796+02:00

We all dream, from an early age. It is an innate human urge. We dream of being an engine driver, captaining England, the perfect woman. Inevitably, these dreams die. Realism takes hold. We age and our dreams change: chairman of the board, the next big thing, the perfect woman. We get even older - are these things still what we want? Do we keep moving the goalposts out of reach, or do we chase

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1095417810968956572004-09-17T13:43:00.000+02:002004-10-11T11:48:13.946+02:00

I’m not going to be updating this for 10 days or so, so have a look around the archives while I’m gone.

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1095412021346292312004-09-17T11:06:00.000+02:002004-10-04T14:34:23.596+02:00

The contrasting styles of the two Ryder Cup teams this week have got me thinking about patriotism and nationalism. The old world of Europe seems comfortable with itself, mature and confident next to the brash “love it or leave it” American jingoism. The reason that there is no pat like an ex-pat is that patriotism is one of those things – like Monty in the Ryder Cup – that thrives under adversity

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1095332636344200982004-09-16T13:00:00.000+02:002004-09-27T14:34:01.526+02:00

I sometimes think that I got out of the UK just in time. The Labour government was elected in 1997, and we left about a year later. At one point, my father had sworn he’d emigrate if Labour got in, but by ’97 he, and most of the rest of us, had got so fed up with the Tories that Tony Blair looked like a good idea. The Conservatives had by that stage been in power since I was 9 years old, so I had

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1095240658076119322004-09-15T11:25:00.000+02:002004-09-27T14:31:48.730+02:00

The trouble with trying to write anything is that there is a vast archive of material out there that says it all better than I ever could, and is still relevant. It takes a peculiar arrogance or naivety to try and better something like this: You that never done nothin' But build to destroy You play with my world Like it's your little toy You put a gun in my hand And you hide from my eyes And you

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1095063019107842902004-09-13T09:31:00.000+02:002004-09-17T11:09:11.866+02:00

More on sleep, which seems to be a topic of great interest to parents of young children, as well as those working nightshifts. I read that adults have sleep cycles which are much longer than childrens. A child’s sleep cycle is about an hour, which is why young kids will become wakeful every hour or so, with monotonous regularity. During the hourly cycle, they go through the various types of sleep

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1094738720788211482004-09-09T16:01:00.000+02:002004-09-14T11:25:03.383+02:00

Here's a handy tip for parents of young children: when you get up in the middle of the night to answer the call of the child, put the duvet back. It keeps the bed warm in your absence. Here's another tip: don't let anyone give your daughter a doll that makes electronic screaming noises when its dummy is pulled out, or if you do, don't let her sleep with it. I'm going back to bed now.

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1094635976791395482004-09-08T11:31:00.000+02:002004-09-09T15:41:03.593+02:00

I’m basically a capitalist. This makes me fully in favour of competition, especially when it benefits the consumer. The sooner an efficient bank enters the South African market and does away with bank charges, the better. I hadn’t paid bank charges in my life until I came here. Anyway, back to the intended topic: a few years ago a new terrestrial TV channel started in South Africa. This was a

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1094461887926904942004-09-06T11:10:00.000+02:002004-09-06T13:47:21.423+02:00

There’s a guy I give a lift to whenever I see him on the way to or from work. His name is Lawrence, although that is the one for English speakers, and his Xhosa name is Siphile, which I have probably spelled wrongly. He works as a gardener at a large house in Bishopscourt, which is probably the most expensive suburb in Cape Town. Lots of mansions, embassies, and about 2 miles from the Thatcher’s

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1094041590926759682004-09-01T14:25:00.000+02:002004-09-01T14:26:30.926+02:00

Here’s a thing. If you’ve read back a bit, you’ll know that we’ve been building a house. We moved in at the end of April, but the builders are still around, fixing the stuff they buggered up the first time round. Part of this work involves some serious banging and digging in the garage to fix a water problem. Since we have moved in, the garage is full of the usual clutter that inhabits garages:

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1093611591008408542004-08-27T14:55:00.000+02:002004-08-27T14:59:51.006+02:00

Everyone else is doing it so here goes… You get a very twisted perspective on the Olympics depending on where you view it from. As far as South Africa is concerned, the Olympics so far is all about swimming, since our boys won gold in the 4 x 100m freestyle, breaking the world record and – bonus – beating the Yanks and the Aussies in the same race. In a day or two, our attention will move to the

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1093332131565485112004-08-24T09:21:00.000+02:002004-08-30T15:42:26.513+02:00

One thing about living abroad is that it gives you a different perspective, and new appreciation for, your own country. One of the great things about the Brits is that we don’t take anything too seriously, including ourselves. I’m sure that this urge to undermine everything with deprecation or witticism must get on the nerves of everybody we deal with, especially most of the European Union, but

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1092992276517696512004-08-20T10:57:00.000+02:002004-08-20T10:57:56.516+02:00

When we had the turf laid for our new lawn, we diligently selected the cheapest operator who returned our calls, then got them to come and do the job. They didn’t ask how far the lawn is from the road, so we didn’t offer the information. When they arrived, they were dismayed to discover that the road is a steep climb away from the lawn, and the lawn itself is an awkward shape across 2 levels.

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1092145762069397082004-08-10T15:47:00.000+02:002004-08-10T15:49:22.070+02:00

This past weekend marked the end of Cape Town’s dry winter. At one point, famously soggy Newlands had 100mm of rain in 4 hours. The damp caused no end of inconveniences chez nous. The pool overflowed. My car leaks. Our new house leaks in a couple of places. The dogs leave muddy paw prints all over the house. The garden is like a paddy field. In other news, 15,000 people on the Cape Flats are

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1091522499515756102004-08-03T10:38:00.000+02:002004-08-03T10:41:39.516+02:00

You can see how it would happen. It's the silly season, a slow news week, and the Sunday Times needs a scoop. Our intrepid reporter searches through the week's press releases, desperately seeking something newsworthy, and comes across a note from Home Affairs. The note says that a review of South Africa’s public holidays is being carried out, and nothing is off the agenda. A quick phone call

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1090957072259431592004-07-27T21:35:00.000+02:002004-08-31T09:57:38.213+02:00

I have a confession to make. I’m a stickler for matters of grammar and style. I can get a bit anal about it to be honest. I blame the parents. My mother actually – she used to be an English teacher, and some of it obviously rubbed off on me. Perhaps my ideal career is as a sub-editor. There is a particular type of mistake that I have noticed a lot of in South African publications, perhaps because

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1090488658269894092004-07-22T11:29:00.000+02:002004-07-22T11:30:58.270+02:00

When you are at school, there are some guys who are good at everything – on all the sports teams, top of the class; teachers love them. The thing is that they are dominant because everyone is forced to go to school, and everyone is forced to compete, to a greater or lesser degree, in that arena. This is one of the things that makes school days about the worst days of your life for many people.

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1090333892380526452004-07-20T16:26:00.000+02:002004-07-20T16:34:22.926+02:00

There are a couple of articles in The Times today that prompt further analysis. By a couple I mean two, as opposed to the South African usage, which is anything up to a dozen. I’d link to the articles, but the Times seems to have a policy of denying access to its site if you are outside the UK, and therefore unable to buy the paper. You could argue that the other way round might make more sense,

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1089901182812596562004-07-15T16:16:00.000+02:002004-07-15T16:19:42.813+02:00

Being an occasionally homesick expat, I subscribe to the Telegraph’s daily email news bulletin. This contains links to the obituaries, which frequently catalogue the quiet deaths of some of World War 2’s heroes. These are men who led peaceful lives until they were thrown into the horrors of a war. After acts of, in many cases, incredible bravery, they went back to those peaceful lives. My

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1089292133265643312004-07-08T14:54:00.000+02:002004-07-08T15:08:53.266+02:00

There are parallels between the way that the South African mindset developed, and the way in which the British and American ones did. America is a country built by entrepreneurs, so it is the work ethic that is (Paul?) revered. The British system is built on class, guilt and Empire, so in the UK, who you are defines what you are, whereas in the States it is the other way round. The US has a

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1089192158102347302004-07-07T10:54:00.000+02:002004-07-07T14:10:00.793+02:00

Our new house (how long until it becomes just “our house” – 6 months? A year? 3 months and counting…) is in an estate that encourages indigenous plants in the residents’ gardens. Given the (realtively) newly inclusive, all-embracing nature of South Africa, the attitude to alien vegetation is conspicuously xenophobic. Cape Town is probably unique in that its climate supports both oak and palm

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1088696848115900582004-07-01T17:44:00.000+02:002004-07-05T15:38:23.700+02:00

The dictionary definition of adolescence refers to puberty – the transition from youth to adulthood. I’m not sure what the right term is, but it seems to me that there are at least four such transitions. Maybe there are six – one between each of the seven ages of man. The first that I have noticed is the one my daughter is working through at the moment: the terrible twos. The usual explanation

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1088523024489313912004-06-29T17:20:00.000+02:002004-06-29T17:30:24.490+02:00

Carol? Well, it's like this. I was at college with a guy called Graham Harboard - Ginz. He was one of those guys who always seemed to have everything figured out earlier than the rest of us. He always very comfortable in his own skin, and had an ability to get on with everyone: nerds to troublemakers, and all points in between. He's the kind of guy that anyone would like to chat to over a beer or

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1088171455553961572004-06-25T15:50:00.000+02:002004-06-25T15:50:55.553+02:00

Sometimes when your mind wanders, it gets lost. I have noticed that when I am bored, usually in less than electric meetings, my mind will throw up random memories from the past. These are never related in any way to what is going on, but seem to be the product of some rogue neuron with a loose connection. During a meeting yesterday, for example, I suddenly remembered, in great clarity, a meal out

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1088000766840285262004-06-23T16:20:00.000+02:002004-06-23T16:26:06.840+02:00

Before we came out to South Africa, my wife and I did an Alpha course. Since we were living in West London, we went for the pukka option, and did the one at Holy Trinity Brompton, run by Nicky Gumble. When we got to Cape Town, we did it again, having missed the end of it due to our emigration; this time with Nicky on video. I had originally agreed to do it, being something of a sceptic, because

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1087479474175116582004-06-17T15:33:00.001+02:002004-06-18T14:51:09.276+02:00

Yesterday was youth day in South Africa. June 16th is the anniversary of the 1976 Soweto uprisings- the point at which the camel's back finally broke for black students. The straw was the proposal from the apartheid government to force Afrikaans as the required language in schools. This would mean that even those for whom Afrikaans was not even a second language (i.e. the vast majority of the

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1087325507112854282004-06-15T20:35:00.000+02:002004-06-15T20:51:47.113+02:00

The Two Things about management consulting: 1. Without good implementation, the best ideas are useless. 2. At some point you have to let the client do it.

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1086710241481647632004-06-08T17:56:00.000+02:002004-06-22T16:15:17.883+02:00

Which is something to do with Venus, and nothing to do with this post, but I couldn’t pass that up as a title. I need a new car. The old Triumph is doing well, but is deteriorating, and to fix it properly means giving it a rest for a while, which means driving something else. Given the state of my finances, the something else has to be something cheap, which probably means a Citi Golf. This is a

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1086120067870723032004-06-01T21:59:00.000+02:002004-06-09T14:19:34.106+02:00

The presentation that we have been preparing for our client was moved, from Monday to Wednesday, thereby giving us a bit of extra time to polish it. Parkinson’s Law applying as usual, we took all that time, but it does help. The way things work is that we spend several weeks doing a pile of analysis and research, then we try to distil that into a presentation that gets across our findings in a

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1086009455090993452004-05-31T15:15:00.000+02:002004-06-22T16:20:28.243+02:00

Working all weekend - is it weird to quite enjoy it? We've got a busy week coming up in consulting land, and so a couple of things to prepare, hence late nights in the office, living on junk snacks and deliveries from local restaurants. The good news is that Telkom finally figured out how to connect us to ADSL, so we've got a big fat pipe for all that important research work on the web. And

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6406561.post-1085434131252908372004-05-24T23:21:00.000+02:002004-05-26T20:39:45.586+02:00

Ageing is an interesting and disconcerting thing. I have always maintained that it’s the mileage that counts, but even that fudge doesn’t account for the differences in the wear and tear some people show. My rugby-battered knees make pretty good barometers, and make some interesting noises when I’m climbing stairs, but as far as my head is concerned, I’m still 21. That’s as far as the hair on my

Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04213208245268542771noreply@blogger.com