the flip side

Out with old, in with the new

2009-06-01T06:39:00.003+01:00

Even though it is hard to let go of a relationship, there comes a day in a person's life that you have to face the fact that it's all over. After a beautiful 3 and ½ years I have come to the realisation that it is time to move on.

You have stayed up with me during late nights working hard and probably know the content of my thesis just as well as I do. You have been a wonderful companion during our travels through Europe, providing entertainment at lonely airports, and when I decided to move to UK you were ready and willing to face the unknown with me. You have sat through many hours of movies and series and were always ready for a game. Most importantly, you have been my contact to the outside word acting as a telephone, a postman and have helped me look for work.

Even though I was very reluctant to do so, I've finally came to the realisation that it is time to swap you in for a newer and younger model. Surely a laptop loses the right to be called a laptop when the battery doesn't work anymore and you can't move it from your desk and even though lines are very in vogue at the moment, it just didn't suite my screen very well.

A few years ago I used to know something about computers, but around the time the dual core processors entered the marked I've stopped following fashionable processor speed and ram size and have successfully managed to avoid Windows Vista. Not only was I looking for a new computer, but also had to update my computer lingo and jargon to include HDVI slots and dedicated graphics cards.

After many questions, some reading up and many hours on the web I finally managed to locate the laptop that could be good enough to replace my current one and sort of within my budget range. After many hours of copying data and setting up everything I need I've come to the conclusion that I'll be able to manage with Vista. I'm yet to use the finger print scanner and in-built webcam, but I'm happy to conclude that I am looking forward to this new relationship where I can use my laptop, well on my lap.

Packing away my old computer was rather more emotional than I expected, but like all new relationships, the initial few weeks of discovering and getting to know each other has been an experience.

Wales

2009-04-28T21:28:00.004+01:00

Although I love discovering new countries and foreign cities, I have to confess, it’s difficult to beat a road trip with a bunch of mates. Even though Africa is a good place to be if you are a road trip fanatic, Great Britain is remarkable because it provides hidden treasures you didn’t expect.

The ideal road trip requires as little planning as possible, and climbing in a car and deciding where you want to go once you’ve left home is idyllic. Unfortunately this is not possible over the busiest weekend (Easter) of the year and we were forced to plan ahead. So North Wales was selected and the itinerary was well planned.

A quick stop in Stratford on Avon en-route did not inspired us to write any great plays and we moved through country lanes to reach Snowdonia. This part of Wales is a huge national park and no other word than magical can be used to describe the scenery. Parts of it look like it was frozen in time, with old cottages, traditional farms and friendly people. It is heaven for the outdoor type, with loads of hiking and cycling routes and beautiful picnic spots - weather permitting naturally.

Our first quest was to climb Mount Snowdon (the highest mountain in Wales and England). Please note: I am referring to mountain and not hill, this is not an expedition to be taken lightly. The people who climb this hill/peak/mountain take the task very seriously and a lot of money and time goes into buying the right outfits and gear, leaving us looking rather out of place with our regular trainers and jeans and no walking sticks. The climb itself starts of pretty easily and gradual, but soon you begin climbing and the realisation that this could be more challenging than you anticipated sets in. Thousands of people with their dogs climb it, which provides a unique atmosphere. The relief and view when you reach the summit is remarkable and well worth the “suffering”.

The next day included a trip to Conwy Caste (on the recommendation of our hostess), without getting into the details of the history, as castles go, this one is a pretty incredible site.

We continued our exploration on horseback, something that should have been a relief after the climb. Some of us were more comfortable while other individuals looked at the mountain bikers with a little envy. We mostly had an amazing time riding through the forests and hills and even managed to bond with our horses when we weren't fighting with them to stop grazing.

Some people in the party took the Easter spirit extremely seriously and provided way too many sweets and chocolates, hence other members of the party feeling sick from overindulgence. Except for this minor hiccup (they were back at it the next day) and (so far) no speeding fines, I am happy to report that we made it home safely. Admittedly, we were VERY lucky weather-wise, striking 1 of the only 2 weekends of sunshine in Wales, while it was colder in Majorca and London.

I have never seen so many people hurting so much (a deadly combination of mountain and horse) after a relaxing weekend in the countryside, but it was worth every ache and pain and Wales can definitely be added to my list of “must see” in UK.

For some photos, click here

From North Wales

A nice time in Nice

2009-04-18T07:58:00.007+01:00

Taking the tube is dangerous. I am not referring to the daily perils you might encounter, such as the gap that you need to mind or anybody who talks louder than the accepted whisper. No, I am referring to running into friends, because by the end of your journey you might have planned a trip to France.

It’s really simple; you need to go to France because you need a Shengen visa. I know I often don’t speak highly of the French, but when it comes to giving visas they are by far the most generous European nation and usually provide you with a 6 month visa (or even a 1 year visa if all your paper work is in order) then which enables you to travel the rest of Europe. For this reason you are forced to go to France at least once a year for visa purposes.

So to do something new we settled on southern France and on the recommendation of many who have been before, we decided on Nice. Yes, I know what you are going to ask: was Nice nice? Nice is a mixture of Margate and Strand (in SA). The new part has plenty of huge hotels/casinos with a dual-carriageway, the standard boulevard and a little beach. It’s tacky. Luckily I stuck to my philosophy of always staying in old part of town and yet again, I was right.

Old Nice is typical French - dark, dirty, dilapidated with no space and plenty of places from which food can be obtained (such as ice cream stands, markets, restaurants, bakeries, Bistros). Unlike any other parts of France I’ve ever been to the people actually attempt to communicate and I think I spotted a smile or two.

Monaco on the other hand is a different world. It is beautiful, clean, light and airy, yet steeped in history and tradition. Modern and old seems to complement each other to create a very unique little kingdom. You are immediately aware of the abundance of cash. It is a world very far removed from the African squatter camps on a continent not too far away.

All in all, I can recommend a few days in southern France, but only if you include a day trip to Monaco (I doubt I know many people who could afford a night there). The food is good, the French are friendlier and it’s a unique part of France. I do not recommend buying a cocktail in a casino in Monaco, for the same amount you can buy a good bottle of South African wine.

France vs Italy - Italy still wins!

For some pics - click here

Sailing

2009-04-06T13:28:00.014+01:00

I am sailing, I am sailing,
Home again cross the sea.
- Rod Steward

On my very long list of things to do before I die, sailing has never featured anywhere. So when an old school friend e-mailed me the details of a sailing weekend in Portsmouth I said yes for two reasons, none related to boats.
1) To meet new people, because surely sailors should be good party people and 2) a weekend out of London. Don’t get me wrong; I love London, but the only thing better than living in London is a couple of days out of London.

So I said yes and the two of us, not really knowing what we were getting ourselves into, met up with the rest of the group. We started the train journey, tired and rather down after a very long week of hard work and the usual visa trouble. We returned on Sunday morning even more tired and worn out, but due to totally different reasons – lack of sleep, loads of talking and laughing, some drinking and a new found love for sailing.

Sailing is an incredible experience and I sincerely hope you have the opportunity to enjoy it at least once in your lifetime.

Now that I have been exposed to the world of sailing, the bug has bitten. I love boats, the clever way a small space can be turned into a comfortable living area has always fascinated me. There is something magical about being on the ocean, watching the harbor, coastline and other boats glide by and being in an environment without mobile phones or internet connection.

Sailboats in particular have grabbed my attention, the science behind the setup of the sails and how the power of wind is harnessed to move small and large vessels still remains one of human’s greatest achievements. BUT, the best part of it all - navigation. Being surrounded by compasses, maps and charts and GPS’s must be my interpretation of heaven.

I have learned a valuable lesson; always say yes for something new. Sometimes you might not enjoy the experience, but it’s worth it for that one time where you are exposed to an entire new world, group of people full of fun and magical sunsets.

Ikea ii

2009-03-17T16:10:00.000Z

the joys of Ikea

2009-03-16T20:42:00.012Z

Just a quick note on what the Ikea phenomena entails for anybody who has never had the luck of a trip to this remarkable store. Ikea furniture is by no means any contest for the antique market and no respectable interior decorator will be seen dead in an Ikea store (they might use the online catalogue though), but the concept fascinates me.

Without sounding like an advertisement I’ll try and explain the concept to you:
For students or immigrants who arrived with only 20kg of luggage or anybody who has just spent a fortune on buying their own abode ( but who has not inherited unwanted furniture from the family), Ikea provide the perfect solution. You can kit out your entire house/flat/maisonette/cottage/ROOM excluding electrical appliances with everything you need in one foul sweep. There are hundreds of styles to choose from, while quality and prices range to suite your budget. I love the show room concept where a room is displayed from a specific range, which provides a "stylish" setting for the unimaginative. I am still looking for an excuse to use the wardrobe and kitchen planner facilities.

Luckily for us, we have moved into an already furnished house with most things we could need. Unfortunately, with our shopping habits, we have run out of packing space, we need to replace some worn-out house stuff from time to time, we also have house mates who break glass-top kitchen tables and our 20kg luggage did not include essential bedding and linen.

This means an outing to Ikea - something akin to a day at a theme park for me. You can walk around for hours, stop for lunch and make vital decorating decisions over a cup of cappuccino.

And unless you are buying boring things such as towels, shower curtains or coffee mugs the really fun part starts after you have selected your items. At this stage I have to inform you that Ikea’s furniture works on the flat-pack concept. Flat-pack means that you have to assemble you newly acquired show piece furniture yourself, thus adding a toolkit to your shopping cart is highly recommended (just for safety, I also bought a sewing kit).

There is something rather empowering about putting your new assets together yourself. Now admittedly I haven't attempted anything very complicated - such as building my own bathroom, but I am extremely proud of my (and here I have to give credit to my housemates) handiwork. We seem to be very adept at following complicated picture instructions, all our chest of drawers still seem to function (even if it was hammered together with a hairbrush), the kitchen table does not wobble and the lamp stands seem to look like the ones in the showroom. All credit to the furniture designers who seem to know that the average person who assembles their furniture does not have a relevant qualification. This excludes my male (colleague) with an engineering degree (chemical though) that did take three days to put together his cupboard and my former housemates (may I add, also male) who made a complete hash of assembling a simple TV stand. Do I spot a pattern?

Hopefully one day I will be able to upgrade from Ikea furniture, but at least now I understand the pleasure of enjoying your own handiwork on a daily basis - or until it collapses anyway.

Northern Ireland

2009-03-13T12:42:00.001Z

Up until a few years ago Northern Ireland and its problems seemed irrelevant and far removed from my life down in sunny South Africa. If asked by anybody what I knew about NI I would reply as follows – the Protestants and the Catholics don’t get along, NI is part of the United Kingdom, but don’t want to be and in general it’s a fairly unstable region. As a matter of fact, before 9/11 I associated the word terrorist with Irish.

But things change. When you spend a good part of a year working on a project for the Northern Irish government you become acquainted with a region and its people. I must admit, after expecting army tanks and blown up buildings I was pleasantly surprised to find Belfast to be a peaceful city with some beautiful old buildings and healthy economic development. The closest I got to any hint of violence was the Indian man on the Spur sign outside the restaurant in Belfast’s newest swanky shopping centre.

The killing of two soldiers, just before they were deployed to Afghanistan, and the shooting of a police officer who responded to an emergency call suddenly hit home. NI is no more a distant country with unrelated issues and the unnecessary violence frightens me. Violence in Africa or Middle East I (sort of) understand, admittedly – I have become complacent and I guess, used to it. Then something like this happens where the killing of innocent people serves no purpose and I’m jolted back into reality. What gives one human being the right to make another person feel vulnerable?

Admin

2009-03-05T20:39:00.004Z

It’s a Thursday night and after a couple of hard days at the office I looked forward to my evening of enjoying the company of my housemates, some wine and maybe a CSI episode. This was not the case instead I had to relinquish my idyllic evening for ADMIN. Yes, opening my post resulted in a hasty supper and a trip to my desk where I had to wade my way through the banal task of organizing my own life.

Replying to incompetent letting agencies, canceling insurance subscription renewals, paying off credit card bills, claiming travel insurance, filling out forms for Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs department and other tasks I would not want to bore you with has become a part of my daily routine. And NOBODY warned me. They should have a course at the end of your university career – how to manage your own life.

I might come across as spoiled (admittingly so), but until I organized my own flight and moved to the UK my dad did all of this – insurance, medical aid, mobile phone account - anything that involved a contract my dad dealt with. I paid for everything else while taxes were arranged by my employers and life was uncomplicated and simple.

Then I grew up. Now I know all about running my own limited company, managing a household, fighting with incompetent service providers and paying off credit cards and other bills and I’m exhausted. Suddenly the allure of being independent and in charge has faded. Writing nasty letters to said inept service providers lost its therapeutic properties a long time ago. Now I fully comprehend why ladies, until recently, stayed at home with their parents only to leave the life of comfort to move in with their husband and thus avoided all the hassle of being independent.

After all this I deserve a treat – a long weekend in Nice (France) has been booked. The only snag – appointment at embassy, letter of employment, payslips, bank statements, travel insurance, photos and lots of forms will first have to be organized. All in a days work and all worth it in the end, so let me get started.

a dirty hotel

2009-03-01T16:20:00.024Z

TripAdvisor (a general travel info website) brought out a list of “T he Dirtiest Hotels” and I’ve had the honour to have been a guest at the establishment privileged with the number three spot on the USA list.

Now, during my travels I’ve picked up a few do’s and don’ts. Do stay in lodgings close to town centre (not applicable for South Africa). This is especially true for cities where there are places to go, things to do and people to meet while giving meaning to the “shop till you drop” expression, all within a few days. In addition to location, my second prerequisite is a bathroom - an en-suite bathroom. This generally rules out youth hostels – I know, rather snobbish of me, but I’m a girl who knows what she wants.

So after declining offers to stay with people who lived just outside Manhattan I decided to stick to my own advice. Now if anybody has ever had the pleasure of visiting New York they should know that finding a suitable hotel with all of the above virtues within a rather tight budget is a challenge. One I thought I had conquered when I managed to make a booking at the New York Inn (rather impressive sounding if you ask me) – conveniently located between Times Square and the Rockefeller Centre and within walking distance of almost everything in Manhattan. Yes, I did walk to almost everything in Manhattan – only used the ferry to get to Statue of Liberty. New York’s public transport scared me a little bit.

Back to the infamous hotel. The room was dominated by a massive flat screen TV, whose wires I later discovered, were all kept in place by cello tape. The hot water lived up to its name only on the first night and since it was early spring, I never had opportunity to test the aircon. Nevertheless, although the décor was old and the steps many to climb (after all that food, maybe a blessing) I didn’t feel the need to book out since a person generally doesn’t spend much time in hotel room.

According to some of the photos on TripAdvisor I did take my life into my own hands and should consider myself lucky to be around to tell you the story. It is definitely not an establishment I would suggest anybody else use, but I never feared for my safety and fell in love with an amazing city.

Booking hotel rooms is generally the most risky part of planning a trip if you don’t have good references, or in my case a friend who draws a location on the map and proceeds to give you the name of a hotel situated in another part of the city.

For me, arriving at your accommodation and discovering what it has to offer is often an exciting part of the journey, especially if the breakfasts are good.

Initiation

2009-02-24T21:34:00.004Z

I am no psychologist and don’t claim to know the detrimental effect initiation has on the development of any human being. I also do not know enough to form an opinion on the initiation rituals of various cultures, such as the colourful Xhosa boys in their huts on the farm. This blog is about my initiation experience of which I have fun (and not so much fun) memories.

At school initiation was never violent, but served as a mechanism to introduce us to life away from home. The objective of initiation was to install a sense of respect; the basics, stand back for somebody older, greet anybody who enters a room and revere your peers. Something I hope I still and will always remember. Rather than using humiliation, a little embarrassment served its purpose.

This was not the case at the school my brother attended. Having to run around in full school uniform (apart from the socks) in the summer heat during your break was just some of the hell the boys had to go through. Yet I never heard a single boy/man complain; no mother was allowed to interfere and the incredible sense of pride on the faces of those boys when they walked under the school bell at the end of their school careers is something that gives me goosebumps.

University of Stellenbosch has received its fair amount of bad press when it comes to initiation. I wouldn’t swap those first two weeks of hell for anything. The look on the face of a friend who after six months only realised what being called an “onkruid” (weed) actually meant or my surprise when a guy came up to me during a Friday afternoon tut to tell me that I make really good coffee were priceless (I met so many guys, any one could loose track). Being sleep deprived, not having time to eat and running around like a headless chicken was well worth the first drink after many hours of performing at 1^st year’s concert. The (lifetime) friends I was forced to make, the camaraderie with total strangers and the sense of belonging given to me is something I hope every other person has the opportunity to experience.

So to all future parents (especially moms) please do not insist on sleeping on a mattress in your first year son’s room; it’s not the kind of notoriety a man wants when he enters adulthood. To all the people who were injured (I know a few) - your loyalty does amaze me. Initiation should never be a power game and if implemented in the right way, should do more good than harm.

The dreaded interview

2009-02-22T15:54:00.001Z

Except for a few lucky people, we have all been in that situation, we’ve all worked through the questions and we’ve all waited for the phone call afterwards. The job interview. No matter how much research you do, how well your recruitment agent (or contact) preps you or the amount of rescue remedy you take - you can never be adequately prepared. My interviews have ranged from being quizzed on software programs and packages I have never heard about and will probably never come across again to being told the life story of a complete stranger – according to him motorbikes are evil.

My favourite so far was – a blank piece of paper, a pen and ten minutes to come up with the following answer – what makes me ME. Well I don’t know and even if I did, do you really think I want to share it with you, the complete stranger, whom I might have to share an open plan office with. Even more depressing - looking at the job spec and thinking this is the dream job, only to walk out of the interview realising that you will never fit into this environment.

Some interview advice websites and recruiters seem to think it is important to prepare for silly questions such as can you work in a team or how do you handle pressure or what do you do if you don’t like my colleagues. Honestly, does anybody think a person will answer – no, I don’t like working in a team because I’m lazy and then people get upset with me or I do not handle pressure, the reason why some people take 5 years to complete a 3 year course (not me).

This brings me to the perfect interview. The one where the prospective employer wants you before you even walk in and spends the allocated time selling the job and company to you – the one where you are in charge. When you’ve moved up in life and head hunters replace recruitment agents and classifieds.

I am not looking for work and I haven’t had to endure an interview for a while now – so why am I writing about the dreaded interview? The tables have turned and I’m the one looking for some help and it scares me even more. How do you know that this complete stranger have the ability to really do what you require of them. How do you asses their capability to think for themselves, solve their own and your problems and know how to do all the things you expect them to do and know – all things no CV will ever really tell you. Quite frankly – I am daunted by this task. I have realised – the only person I’ll ever hire is ME.

Entering grown-up-dom

2009-02-07T23:51:00.000Z

I’m a little depressed, nothing to be worried about – I’m in control, but here is my not-so-sob story.

During the past two and half years I’ve done plenty of roving which includes a non-dramatic move from SA to UK, a remarkable experience working in France, traveled through Europe. I have discovered the magic of the USA's east coast and survived an awesome trip through Egypt. ALSO - being new to the UK I’ve done a couple of fun road trips familiarising myself with the country I’m inhabiting and have popped over to the mainland every oppurtunity I had. During this time I’ve also been lucky enough to catch up on my sun time in South Africa and lived through the agony of loosing my passport (twice) just to have it returned in the most mysterious ways.

Now that you have established that I am well versed in passport control etiquette I can return to my original problem.

I’m not going anywhere. Yes, for the first time in 3 years I have no trips planned or booked. Of course, skiing is a big sacrifice and I’ve reluctantly declined a weekend of shopping with the girls in New York all in the name of self indulgence which leads to the question – WHY!?!?!

Well, 2 reasons actually:
1 - I want a car: because I want a car and I need a car and I’m going to buy a car. Please don’t point out that I live in London with excellent public transport or that a car is a “black hole” in which you see your money disappear or that parking is a problem. It’s not open for debate. (FYI – it will be a 2nd hand one to share with sibling).

2 – I want to buy a house: ok – I know, in the UK I can afford a closet and in SA maybe a very tiny flat, but I have this urge to plan for the future (even if it is with the help and encouragement from the family).

3 - Although not really very important: I need to buy a new computer. My laptop's screen has funny lines running through it and in computer terms it's rather old.

In conclusion – sometimes in life you have to make some sacrifices to get something you really want and right now I’ve got my budgeting spreadsheet out and hoping that I can catch up with my peers (or some of them anyway, not the ones that’s at the parenthood stage). It’s not all doom and gloom though – I do live in one of the most magical cities in the world and will make the most of it, as soon as it’s safe to wonder outside again. AND – I’m getting a car for all the road trips we’re planning.

So, as you can see, no reason to worry about me, but a little support will help the transition into grown-up-dom.

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