Smath's blog

In which we did not fall 600 metres to our deaths from a tiny sky basket - Honeymoon day 7, 12 June

Smath — Sat, 30 Jun 2012 17:51:58 +0000

There had been a fair amount of debate between Scott and I on whether it would be a good idea to go ballooning and boy did we ever make the right decision.

First there was the cost (200 euro each holy crap!), then the fact that they pick you up at 4 freaking am, and finally that one of us is afraid of flights and the other of heights.

Every person we spoke to gushed about the experience so we said a couple of Hail Marys (ok, not really) and took a chance (really).

Why these people collected us at 4am is a mystery. From our hotel we were taken to a place where we were served a ridiculously enormous bang-up buffet breakfast, complete with food sculptures in amongst the dishes. And there were droves of people. Really it felt like every man and his hungry pushy cousin were there, all shoving each other out of the way so that they could be the first to get to all the food.

Who the bloody hell are all these pushy people scooping up plates of rice and soup at 4.15 freaking am, I wondered, and who can even eat at that time of the morning?! I would soon get to know them a little more intimately when I would be crammed into a basket alongside 16 of them. But my crusty cranky mood was diluted after they cleared a path between me and the coffee machine. Probably if I didn't know me, I'd have been terrified of me at that moment too.

There are multiple balloon tour operators in Cappadocia, so we went with Kapadokya Balloons who were recommended to us by our hotel. The guys in charge of manning our balloon were such fun, all joking around and playing the fool (a fact which I appreciated more after the flight than before).

There were probably about 30 to 40 minibuses parked outside the strange breakfast building. The hungry 5 thousand were divided into groups and directed to the appropriate minibus. Our friendly pilot was a chap named Andrew. I'd thought to myself how unusual it was for a Turk to be named Andrew but he soon revealed himself to be a Kiwi.

When we arrived at our baskets there was light in the sky (as opposed to being in complete darkness like when we were collected and fed) and we watched as our balloon was inflated. Nice, we got the Mercedes! I made a video of this with my cellphone.

My stomach butterflies were growing more violent and vicious by the second. They had developed acid-coated fangs and were bloodthirstily ripping and tearing their way through my delicate gizzards. I stopped caring about the hungry 5 thousand, and the earliness, and the chaos and now centered on the here-and-now and the fact that I would be climbing into a wicker basket tied to a balloon, and with nothing between me and the ground. What in the world were we thinking we are going to die on our honeymoon AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!! I looked over at Scott who looked calm and un-phased (does he ever not?) and tried desperately to disguise the fact that I was freaking out. Based on the photo below I was able to do this fairly successfully, but I knew that the ground staff could smell my fear.

I was expecting a violent jolt and to go catapulting off into orbit. What actually happened was a gentle, floatey, flying day-dream. I liked this! No… I loved this!

The acid-fang butterflies were extinguished by a wave of peace and calm (and probably relief). Up, across, up and away we floated. Things got smaller and smaller at a very slow un-terrifying rate and I couldn't take my eyes off of what we were above.

Andrew didn't have a lot of control over which direction we floated in, but he was in complete control of our height and the orientation of the balloon which meant that everyone in our group got a fair chance to view all directions because we were constantly being rotated.

When we eventually descended it was straight onto a flatbed trailer that the ground team had parked in the field that we came down in (they remain in constant contact with the balloon pilot to figure out where to pick us up). As we were landing, one of the team gave me and all the other ladies in the basket a little flower that he'd picked in the field we landed in.

While the balloon was being deflated and folded up we were served a glass of Cappadocian champagne, and Scott and I were given a bottle tied with a ribbon as a gift because we were the honeymoon couple! :) Right as I'd finished my drink, I was scooped up by the flower-giving balloon man and tossed onto the deflated balloon, presumably to help get the remaining air out. I was joined shortly by 3 more of the girls from our ride and it all made for a lot of hilarity and confusion and I nearly booted someone in the face.

This ballooning experience was a unique one. I felt unlike any other time in my whole life, and so did Scott. It was incomparable, magical, wonderful and the closest I will ever be to having lived a dream.

Blah blah blah Göreme. Day 6, Monday 11th June

Smath — Sun, 24 Jun 2012 20:52:59 +0000

One would have thought that we'd have learnt our lesson about visiting popular tourist sites at noon but evidently we had not. I suppose one is quick to forget the crappy parts of an excursion. We'd decided to visit the open air museum of Göreme, like fools, on one of the hottest days since we'd been in Turkey, at noon.

First I should probably mention why Göreme is special and why every single visitor to Cappadocia will probably visit it before visiting anywhere else: it is central, and confirmed to be one of the oldest sites in the region. According to my Cappadocia guide it was mentioned in a book from the 7th century (called The Doings of St Heiron). The open-air museum is a closed-off region that you buy a ticket to enter and it is dense with caves, many of them churches, and nearly all lined with ancient frescoes that were painted from the 6th century onwards. That's very old, and people love old churches.

Perhaps we were still spoilt from the multitude of activities on the day before because we found this museum to be very hard work. After queuing to get in, one has to queue again to get into the individual caves and it was filled with the bad kind of tourist who are pushy and selfish.

For the first time we'd decided to get the audio guide which we shared (hoping that it would offer more satisfying explanations). Scott wasn't that into the idea but eventually agreed to it. Thanks also to the blazing unbearable heat we'd panicked and bought a cheap hat for each of us so that we wouldn't roast off our heads and faces. Between the audio guides, Scott's backpack, the cameras hanging off our necks and the stupid hats, we had become terrifying perfect tourists. (pic of me by Scott)

The audio guide was comically bad. It had a slow-talking British announcer who painfully mispronounced Cappadocia each time. I was sure that Scott was going to crack under the circumstances any moment and insist on leaving and waiting for me in the car park but he held it together very well. Scott is a highly patient person but he has his limits. We measure Scott's ability to go on in a museum in what we call his 'museum calories'. He has a limited amount of museum calories and each time someone shoves into us or we have to queue to see something, the calorie depletion rate rises rapidly. Once there are no more calories, you'd better be ready to beat it out there in a hurry or risk a crisis. Calories may be topped up with beer (in some cases), or a quiet and cool place to sit that has internet access. But not a whole lot else. I think Göreme came dangerously close to running him into a calorie deficit..

In all our sightseeing in Cappadocia so far we'd felt frustrated at the lack of information provided about what we were seeing. There are a lot of information placards that have been translated from Turkish to English (albeit poorly… Turklish?) but nearly all of them are focussed on informing us of the religious meaning behind the sites rather than the historical or geological. For example, telling me that Saint Joe is said to have passed through this valley is far less useful than explaining, for example, that people from Iran and Saudi Arabia migrated through in the xyz^th century. We'd bought a little book to try and get around this and have more info, but it turned out to be fairly limited in its information and also written in Turklish. Göreme was no different in these challenges, and the information was far too vague and religiously detailed in spite of having rented the audio guide. Ok: we know where these people worship and we know where they store their food and bury their dead. But where do they actually live? There were so many churches, honestly nearly every site within the Göreme open-air museum is a church.

After leaving the open air museum we decided to walk the 3km back to our hotel instead of getting a taxi. It was very hot but a beautiful day and we loved our walk (thank goodness we had the stupid hats). We got a fantastic view of Göreme's valley and there were no other people anywhere to be found, which was blissful. We detoured on the way home and so ended up walking a fair bit longer, and got slightly lost but in the good way. Eventually we found our way back to our village, stopped for lunch and some fresh cherries and then made it back to the Hezen, where we vegetated blissfully for the rest of the day and watched the sun go down over the castle on our last night in magical Cappadocia.

Cappadocia has way more things to visit than they let on - Honeymoon Day 5 (Sun 10th June)

Smath — Sat, 23 Jun 2012 13:06:30 +0000

Our first night sleep in our cave was not fantastic - there was a women having a furious yelling conversation on her cellphone in a language we couldn't place, right outside our window for what felt like ages. Then, at 4am, the sound of dualing mosques. We seemed to be squarely in the middle between a pair of them, and their prayer chants were very loud and competing. This is a video I made on my phone of a similar prayer song, the non-4am version:

We were a little slow feeling but rapidly perked up during the incredible breakfasts offered by Hezen. Every day they have something different that's been freshly baked by one of their staff: pastries, breads etc.

Pictures from the hote'ls website

We'd had no idea just how many things there are to see and do in the region - plenty more than could be fit into the 3 days that we'd be there. This post is probably tedious and long because for my own memories I've chosen to note them all down.

On the suggestion of one of the managers at Hezen we hired a taxi who would take us around for the full day for a set fee. His name was something that sounded like Oor, he could speak barely any English, he had a big belly and an even bigger moustache, and he smiled a lot. It worked out perfectly.

First stop was one of Cappadocia's three underground cities. It is called Kaymakli and was built somewhere between the 6th and 10th centuries. There are apparently 7 or 8 floors, not all of which have been discovered yet (not sure how they know of those floors if they haven't discovered them yet though). The entire thing covers 2.5 kilometres which is quite a feat when you think about when they were digging it out.

Next stop was a remote collection of cave churches up on a hill. We had to climb a very steep, slippery and scary set of steps to get to them. I haven't been able to work out what place this was. There wasn't anything else around here and we'd never have spotted the steps had the taxi driver not stopped and gestured for us to climb them. He just parked off in the shoulder of the road and waited there for us.

Third stop was a contained, protected valley called Soganli. There were six churches in this valley with a total walking distance of 2km between them. When we were dropped off by the taxi while he parked off and napped under a shady tree we were somewhat taken aback. Holy crap! You want us to walk 2km in the ridiculous blazing heat (35 degrees) to see 6 of the same thing?!. But we did it. Scott wore his jacket over his head for protection. We went to all of them, except for one called Snake Church. Which was strange because in between Snake Church and the next one we encountered an actual snake. The universe's way of reminding my conscience to ignore the heat and not be apathetic about the phenomenal structures we'd come all this way to see.

All of the old churches in Cappadocia that have wall and roof paintings inside them ('frescoes', which is a term I'd never encountered before this trip) had been deliberately vandalised. The churches and artworks were created by Christians. At a later stage Turkey became more Islamic (or as my guide book puts it, 'invaded by Arabs') and within that faith it was regarded as extremely disrespectful to depict holy figures like Jesus and Mary, so the faces on all the artworks (and sometimes hands and more) were scratched out. Other than the defacing, the artworks preserved quite well within the caves when you think about how old they are (more than ten centuries old sometimes), and the fact that they're partially exposed to light, extreme cold in winter (it snows and gets to -35 degrees Celsius) and extreme heat in the summer (35+ degrees Celsius).

Also inside the caves, to my delight, was hundreds-of-years-old graffiti, alongside modern-day current graffiti. I guess people haven't changed much over time and still seek out the thrill of writing their name and a date on a building. At first we were wondering if the dates on the graffiti was real but after seeing enough of it we were certain that it was. Also, the styling of certain of the characters seemed to imply that they were from a different time (look at the number 9 in the example dated 1901). Funny to think that Johannesburg was not yet even founded when some of this etching was done.

After suffering the 2km walk in the blazing heat (I realise how pathetic this sounds. But I swear… there were hills. And it was the middle of the day. And it was hot, very hot. And we'd walked a LOT in Istanbul) there was a small cave village we came to on the side of a hill. These same old structures that we'd been peering into, these people were living in. There were goats, and little patches of farm, a bee apiary and some small kids who stared us down like we were aliens, and then belted out, "Hello!".

Lunch was in a restaurant just outside the entrance to the valley named "Cappadocia Restaurant". A name like this has made it tricky to search for online. I did find one lonely picture of a crate of apples though, and a review by someone who like us, found it to be unexpectedly incredible. It is run by a husband and wife team. Our table was set up outside in their apple orchard under one of the trees, and nearly everything that we ate had been either grown, made or harvested by the owner and his wife. The bread was fresh baked - crisp on the outside and soft and warm on the inside. It was served to us with cheese made by his wife with milk from their cow, and honey harvested from the apiary I mentioned before. I had wondered if it was goat's cheese before tasting it, and the owner explained in quite broken English that when their cow decided to come home once a day or so (apparently this is a free-range cow :P) his wife would milk her and make cheese and butter.

Definitely by this point in the day we were feeling saturated, but since we had a chaperone in the form of Oor there could be no sight-bunking. So off we soldiered to the antique city of Sobesos, a group of structures that a farmer accidentally discovered on his farm in the sixties and began excavating himself, which turned out to be from the 4th to 5th centuries AD.

… then an ancient monastery and through the town of Mustafapasa (whose name we couldn't stop saying, and whose tourist sites had all shut for the day which we were lightly relieved about. At this point we were both exhausted and in silly moods not suited to be doing what we were doing):

Finally. Finally! The point we now needed rather than wanted - a stop in at a local winery called Turasan. I think that we've been spoilt by both the tasting experiences in Cape Town as well as our excellent wines. We were underwhelmed at the winery and impatiently fed through the tasting experience by their staff a bit like cattle. Cappadocia is Turkey's wine producing region and we had perhaps had our expectations in the wrong place

We were finally relieved of our sightseeing duties, and collapsed in a pile staring at the ceiling back at our hotel. Finally we pulled ourselves together and freshened up and went for a super meal at Ziggy Cafe, also recommended to us by the manager at Hezen, and the food and service were incredible.

A very full, overwhelming, exhausting and wonderful day.

On the fourth day we went to magical Cappadocia

Smath — Wed, 20 Jun 2012 16:50:24 +0000

Huge excitement. Today we left Istanbul for Cappadocia. I had no idea what was in store and it turned out that Scott had a few more surprises up his sleeve.

Our flight was on Turkish Airlines who claim to be Europe's best. The flight was largely uneventful (though delayed 1.5 hours), except for that when we went through security there was one person carrying a mini gas barbecue as a carry-on item. As if that wasn't strange enough, they actually allowed it.

In Cappadocia we caught the shuttle to our hotel. It was a minibus and filled with other people all going to different hotels. We hadn't realised it but it would be an hour and a half trip to our hotel, about the same time as our flight. I'd dozed off, and Scott woke me up to tell me that we were getting close to the hotel. When I opened my eyes it was as though I was in some kind of a bizarre dream and I will never forget that moment. We were completely surrounded in every direction by strange rock structures and caves. I had imagined that one would have to visit one particular region to see the sights, but they were absolutely everywhere around us.

We were the second to last set of passengers to be delivered to our hotel. We'd watched everyone being dropped off one by one. The first couple were dropped off at a really luxurious looking gorgeous hotel, and the accommodations seemed to get steadily more 'basic' looking with each new person we dropped off. I'd always assumed that we would be staying somewhere hostel-like. I could not have been more wrong.

The Hezen Cave Hotel

To get to our hotel, the minibus had to navigate down a very steep, crumbly, crappy little road. Eventually when the hotel was in sight he wouldn't drive any further for fear of not being able to get out again. My expectations for our hotel were lowering with each passing moment.

After we'd gotten out and lugged our wheelie suitcases across the obviously 'prehistoric' road, my first clue that we were staying somewhere special was the reception area's front door:

Maybe this wouldn't be all bad after all.

The reception area behind that front door was magnificent.

Unbelievably, Scott found this hotel via my Pinterest board! Talk about a guy who pays attention. I'd pinned a photo of the exact room that we stayed in!

Before we were shown to our room, the manager spent a little time doing a welcome / orientation / suggestions chat with us and explaining our sightseeing options and suggested that the best would be to hire a dedicated taxi driver for a day, which we ended up doing.

With apologies to the lovely Timamoon where we went for our engagement, this is the most incredible, unbelievable place that I've ever had the privilege of staying. This was a thing happening to me that would never happen to me or any real people I know, an experience reserved for other privileged people on the internet whose lives I like to daydream about living.

The moment that we stepped into our 2-bedroom cave I was so overwhelmed, amazed and in disbelief that I got a little teary and I'm feeling the same way right now as I'm re-living that moment while I'm writing about it.

The Hezen Cave Hotel is a tiny boutique hotel with just ten rooms. All of the rooms really are actual caves that were carved out over a thousand years ago and are still used today. It is a difficult concept to come to grips with when you're sitting in a room of sheer luxury. Don't be misled by the word 'cave', which conjures up images of dark dankness. Everything at Hezen was bright and light and airy and there was not a single comfort lacking. The decor was incredible and so perfectly and tastefully done. They'd used traditional Turkish elements in the design together with contemporary touches in exactly the right proportions. Added to that, the breakfasts were fresh and indulgent, and every single member of staff was warm, friendly and welcoming and made us feel completely at home and relaxed with perfect hospitality.

It is amazing and mind-boggling to see modern people still inhabiting these incredible ancient caves that people carved out so long ago. Entire villages have made their homes in these places and have them plumbed and fitted with electricity.

Cappadocia is a very special place. I can't express just how amazing this experience was and how beyond lucky I feel to have the Scoddy that I have <3.

Visiting every single thing in Istanbul - honeymoon day 3 (Fri 8th June)

Smath — Fri, 15 Jun 2012 08:07:38 +0000

Scott wears a tiny device called a FitBit. It is a detailed tracking device and tells you just how far you've walked. Thanks to this we knew that on Thursday we walked 14km, and on Friday we would hit the 14km mark for a second time. Both days were intense.

We started off our Friday with a leisurely get-ready and then broke our no-internet rule and called our dear friend Sal for her birthday. It was a good, gentle start to what would turn into a very hectic day of being tourists. We'd resolved to see and do every single thing in Istanbul this day.

Our journey began amusingly. We'd purchased tokens for the tram and promptly pushed through the turnstiles in the wrong direction and had to come back out again and buy a new set of tokens to head in the direction that we actually wanted to go.

First stop: Hagia Sophia. My travel guide for Istanbul lists this as a must-see for being 'one of the world's greatest feats of architecture' but we would happily have given it a skip had we known the mess of queues, touts, tour guides and con-artist simit salesmen that we were about to face, all in thirty-something degree blazing midday heat. By the time we made it inside we were both so agitated that we each wanted to find a separate corner somewhere, curl into a foetal position and hum something monotone. I am glad that we suffered through it though because it turned out to be spectacular.

One should respect Hagia Sophia because it is very, very, very old. Verrrry old. We're talking like 360 AD old. It began its life as a Greek cathedral, then converted to a Roman cathedral, and finally into a mosque from 1453 until 1931 when it was then secularised.

Hagia Sophia inside is mainly one large hall. Because of the size of the building and how wide across and high up it goes, it was tricky to take pictures of. I attempted to get a panorama using the Photosynth app on my iPhone that Charles showed us (which, oddly enough, is made by Microsoft). The result was bizarre and jagged (I suppose this takes a little practise and a novice like me should not have attempted to snap this entire hall) but I love the picture that came about!

From here we walked the short distance over to the Blue Mosque. The heat had become even more intense but the crowds had thinned out. On our walk we encountered this couple wearing matching umbrella hats:

The truth is that we made fun of them, but those two got the last laugh. It wasn't long before we were about to melt into an ugly stinky puddle from the extreme heat, and were plotting ways that we might be able to temporarily stun them and steal their hats. The Turkish sun is no joke.

Our arrival at the Blue Mosque coincided with prayer time and so we weren't able to enter. It is amazing to see something so ancient (this one dates from 1616) still in use today, and according to Wikipedia the building has a capacity of 10 000. We peeped in to see what prayer time looked like but were forbidden from taking any photos. On the outside area there was a series of taps where people could wash their faces, hands and feet before going in to pray. The taps are really ornate and beautiful, and similar ones are installed throughout the country.

Next stop: Grand Bazaar. I have to say that I was nervous about this one and the effect that it might have on Scott's fragile tolerance for confined spaces filled with people and vendors all pushing and yelling, and shopping (especially after the chaos at Hagia Sophia). This market was an amazing thing to behold though. It is the oldest and largest market in the world. It opened in 1461, has over 4000 shops, 58 covered streets and attracts between 250 000 and 500 000 visitors per day!

We began not by shopping, but by finding a cosy coffee shop and sampling the famed Turkish coffee. Well - Scott did. I was not brave enough :) Look how pretty it was:

You can buy all things Turkish here, and most notably boat-loads of gold! We didn't buy anything (especially not anything gold) because apparently everything is marked up for tourists in the Grand Bazaar but it was fun getting lost and wandering up and down the tiny alleyways.

We decided to hit up the Spice Bazaar next. I was a complete mess by the time we got there, because like a fool I had decided to buy a mielie (corn on the cob) from one of the local street vendors and it turned out to be the stickiest messiest vegetable I have ever eaten. I have never known a mielie to be so damned sticky and messy. They cook them over an open fire and they look and smell delicious, but this is one mistake I will not be making again. The thing managed to cover me the whole way down my front, and it took me hours to get the bits out of my teeth, clothing and hair (I don't carry dental floss around with me when I go walking but I think now I will) and tainted the flavour of the freshly made Turkish delight that we tasted in the market. He was very nice about it but I'm sure Scott was even embarrassed to be seen alongside me.

The Turkish delight in Turkey is nothing like what we in the west know Turkish delight to be. It has more of a nougat-like consistency and often has whole pistachios and hazelnuts in it. We bought a few pieces thinking that they would tide us over for the rest of our time in Istanbul but they did not even make it out of the market. They come in 'cakes' of fresh made candy, and you select the flavour that you want (for example they had pomegranate, hazelnut and coconut, or regular pistachio) and tell them how much you want and they sell it to you by weight.

After the Spice Market we walked to the extremely grandiose bridge that crosses the Bosphorous River. My Wallpaper Istanbul City Guide claims that this bridge and general region has been compared to Montmartre in Paris. The odd and interesting thing about it is that even though there are tonnes of boats carrying tourists and who knows what else (cats, perhaps?) under it, there is a huge contingent of fishermen fishing down off the bridge into the water 1000 metres below. And I say fishermen in the most literal sense, because there was not single female fishing. A lot of these people were dressed as though they had stopped to cast a quick line in on the way home from their office jobs.

More walking back towards Taksim Square which is near our hotel, and on the way up the shopping walking street connecting to it, we inadvertently got caught in a gridlocked crowd of protestors, and there were millions of riot police everywhere. Amazing how it really came out of nowhere, and it was quite a panickey, scary experience. Eventually we were able to remove ourselves from it and slip into a side street where we bolted back to our hotel as quickly as we could. We still have no idea what was going on or what any of it was about, and there were really a terrifying amount of police all wearing full riot gear and brandishing large weapons that they kept their fingers on the triggers of.

Back at the hotel we were completely wiped out. We'd planned to use the hotel's jacuzzi, Turkish bath and sauna again but we collapsed in a heap and passed out. I'd call day 3 a success.

Exploring Istanbul (Honeymoon Day 2)

Smath — Tue, 12 Jun 2012 10:02:51 +0000

First full day in Turkey, and by now it had properly sunken in where we were which caused me to bolt out of bed with excitement really early. Scott had barely slept on any of our flights (I'd slept a whole lot) and I killed time waiting for him to wake up by writing a blog post.

Our first plan for the day had been to try out some of the Turkish coffee that we'd often heard about, supposedly guaranteed to wire you better than any other legal substance. We'd apparently miscommunicated what we were looking for when we asked the hotel porter where to find this, because when we got to where he'd directed us it turned out to be a crappy local chain called Simit Sarayi and the latte that I ordered was thimble-sized, weak and watery. But not enough to dampen my spirits! Scott got a simit (sesame seed bagel) which seems to be a local staple and the simit vendor is to Istanbul what the hot dog vendor is to New York.

We'd decided to visit Istanbul's modern art gallery as a first activity, and chose to walk there instead of using transit.

This city is not only scenic. This city is filled to bursting with free cats! Cats are everywhere! Even though they are nearly all ferrel and rather scrappy looking, they are friendly and will give you a whiskery smile and a miao when you walk by. People's reaction to the cats is interesting. In any other place I could imagine them being regarded as pests since there are so many of them and they don't belong to anyone, but Istanbulites often here stop to talk to the cats and pet them, and put out little dishes of food.

Istanbul Modern did not disappoint. It was a perfect size. We managed to make our way through every one of the exhibits without collapsing in an exhausted heap afterwards - perhaps a first. They had some fantastic installation work, lots of video pieces and they even had an elaborate work with 2 drawings and some sort of a kaleidoscope by South Africa's William Kentridge. I didn't get to look at it properly though because it was being hogged by a group of museum-visiting Turkish men.

On our way home from the museum we gave in and sat down for a predictable Starbucks coffee and a solid dose of silent people watching. I stole a shot of this Starbucks man with the cat companion who adopted him and melted down his laptop bag.

More walking back in the direction of our hotel and I was able to sneak in a little shopping. It seems that in Istanbul, you cannot go wrong with red. I have never seen more people wearing red and it always looks absolutely striking. I've been wanting a pair of red pants for a while now and was excited to pick some up from the Mango here where they had 5 styles of red pants to chose from.

On our walk back home we turned into a really peculiar part of town. We haven't been able to figure out why, but it is an entire abandoned neighbourhood and in a prime part of the city. The more we tried to get away from this ghost town, the deeper in we seemed to get and the empty buildings were peppered with dangerous looking cats and children. Eventually we got past it and found ourselves in dodgeville, and it felt like we were seasoned fresh meat being dropped into a pit of hungry hounds. The eyes and heads of every local followed us as we walked by and we were feeling quite unsafe, though we have no idea whether or not we actually were. Either way, we were definitely more conspicuous than we'd liked to have been.

The final walk out of dodgeville was up a large and very steep hill which our unfit selves were only able to make it up thanks to a dose of adenaline. Back in our hood Scott decided to take off the edge with a food item that really should never be allowed, but is to be found all over the place here: a french-fry filled hot dog.

Our hotel in Istanbul was very fancy and came with a heated indoor swimming pool, a jacuzzi, a Turkish bath hot room and a sauna. After we'd gotten home and scrubbed the city filth off, we went downstairs in our cushy robes and made use of every one of them. We rounded it all off with some lovely Stoney Brook wine that we'd brought along, freshened up and headed back out for dinner to a place recommended by Time Out Istanbul called Meze by Lemon Tree. The restaurant was tiny and only had about 8 tables. The service and food were both impeccable, and the decor was simple and beautiful with Turkish-style geometric mosaic floor tiles that I could not stop staring at.

It is rare that Scott and I visit a place that is new to both of us, and so far this has been an absolutely incredible time. We've been having the best time discovering things and places together. It has been an adjustment doing this all without using our phones or computers along the way to work things out but what we've lacked in preparedness we have more than made up for in adventure.

The Flight, and how the cat unceremoniously slipped out of the bag

Smath — Thu, 07 Jun 2012 08:31:48 +0000

Turkey. I have been daydreaming about visiting Turkey for so, so long. This place has history on the scale of Rome. When I learned of Cappadocia I knew that this was somewhere I would definitely want to visit.

Scott's been planning our honeymoon for months, and is apparently very good at keeping a secret because nobody was able to get it out of him. There were four people who knew where we were going, largely for practical reasons, and I was not one of them (also for practical reasons, since it was my surprise). I had several theories (one of which turned out to be correct!) but each had a counter point as to why it couldn't be there.

This was one of our least shevelled departures to date. The plan had been to let me know by giving me the travel guides that he'd bought when we were on the plane, but it was not to be.

The letters. The thank you letters. As usual we'd overestimated our capacity for getting things done before leaving. One such thing was writing thank you notes to various people who were involved in our wedding. Since we didn't send out conventional invitations, it was important to me that the notes were personally written and not just printed off templates. I wanted to include some of the professional photographs in a few of them, and we only received those last Tuesday. What stopped me from writing the notes beforehand and getting the envelopes all ready to go, we will never know.

Hand-writing approximately sixty letters is a time consuming business. More so than I might ever have imagined, and we ran out of time to mail them. No matter, we thought… we'll stop in at a Postnet in town en-route to the airport (after this much effort we weren't going to risk having the SA Post Office disappear them). But we were late. And it was raining. And we were taking a taxi to the bus via the Postnet, and then the bus to the airport and all in Cape Town's rush hour (a little after 3pm).

There was no way that we would make it to both the Postnet and our flight on time. Crap. Ok, well, we knew there was an SA Post Office at the airport - we'd send them all registered from there. And so off we went to the airport with our little baggie of sixty hand-written thank you notes, all sealed and without stamps. What we failed to take into account was that South African government institutions will rarely work past 15h30 and so after we'd checked in (still without me knowing where we were leaving for) we set out to find the Post Office. Needless to say it was closed and we were now stuck standing in the middle of what felt like Grand Central station, on a time budget and trying to figure out what to do.

Scott knew. Scott always knows what to do.

"We'll find stamps here in the airport and send all the South African letters from in South Africa using the regular post box, and offer up a sacrifice to the postal deities to increase our odds that the letters will make it there. Then, all the international letters we'll take along and mail from Istanbul!"

I had to ask him to repeat himself. And he did - we'll send the rest from Istanbul. After months and months of saving the secret, this was how I'd learn that we were going to Turkey? I felt a fleeting flash of annoyance at him for being a jackass, but that was rapidly replaced by the best kind of excitement ever! I would learn once we were in Istanbul that we were not only going to Istanbul, but also to Cappadocia and if we felt like it, also to the south of Turkey where they have gorgeous tropical beaches.

Other than a bad landing in Johannesburg, all three of our flights were largely uneventful (though I did manage to leave one of them without my 5-year old ipod nano, which made me a little sad). After getting in to Istanbul it took about an hour and a half to actually get out of the airport, and we took the subway and trams into town. Istanbul has a great subway system, and when we were on the tram, we passed by one amazing sight after another. I felt like I was in a documentary - what were all of these incredible old buildings that we were passing?

Scott's booked us into a really nice hotel and it is in a brilliant area. After we'd dumped our bags we took out for a walk. We walked and walked and walked. We were both so exhausted, but we traipsed the streets in our area like a pair of undead lovers until late at night. Today we have plans to visit some of the recommended places listed in the Wallpaper guide and I'm expecting to have happily aching feet by tonight.

I think that my Scoddy may just have outdone himself. What a freaking lucky girl I am. It still all feels like a dream.

Trade your apartment for 413 Cascades in Cape Town

Smath — Mon, 30 Apr 2012 13:45:14 +0000

We are Scott and Sam. Here are a pair of caricatures of us.

But in real life, Scott looks way less dorky and I look like way less slutty.

About Us

We're a pair of Drupal software developer / designers and we are interested in trading homes with you. Scott is from Vancouver in Canada and I'm from Johannesburg in South Africa. Like the good nerds that we are we met at a software conference in Barcelona, a halfway point between our regular lives, and fell in love. Now we have a home in Cape Town, South Africa, and try to split our time equally between Canada and South Africa spending time with our loved ones. One of our favourite things ever is travel and since being together in 2008 there has not been a period of longer than 2.5 months that we've remained in the same place and we squeeze in whatever trips and adventuring we can along the way.

For work we're both involved in various freelance projects, and have two of our own startups - Wedful and Hello Pretty. So for this reason its important that we have decent, reliable internet access wherever we stay.

We're just married! It was our wedding here in Cape Town in March. We leave Cape Town on June 5th for our honeymoon to a surprise destination (woo!) and then to visit friends and family in Canada.

We're looking for someone to trade with for 2 weeks in Montreal from June 18th to July 2nd (those dates are fixed for us). The person using our apartment could actually stay in our apartment from the day that we leave - the 5th June - for free.

For the Vancouver portion we're looking for somewhere downtown anytime from July 2nd until around the end of October. If you are interested in trading for a portion of that time instead of the whole time then please let us know because that might work for us too.

If you live somewhere other than Vancouver or Montreal and think you'd like to do a swap with us please let us know! We love visiting new places.

If you'd like to find out more about us you can look at our Facebook profiles (Scott / Sam), Twitter (Scott / Sam) or our websites (Scott - http://scotthadfield.ca / Sam - http://www.atsmath.com).

About our apartment

We live on the 4th floor in a building called Cascades, in apartment 413. We're at the end of the row and there is consequently only one neighbour (Josephine), and she is nice and keeps to herself.

There is a 24-hour security guard at our building. If you plan to rent a car, we can arrange a parking spot for you inside the building. But in our opinion you can do nearly all the things that you'd want to without having a car for most or all of your time here.

There's a short term letting service in the building so if you'd like to invite friends over they could rent their own apartment in the same building. We have a big L-shaped couch and a double inflatable mattress and many a friend have crashed on them (sometimes for as long as two weeks!) and you'd be welcome to have friends stay over. It's a studio though so you'll need to be comfortable with them as they'll sleep in the same room as you.

In 413 you will find:

A small but very complete kitchen with quite a fancy oven / microwave combo unit, a dishwasher, stove-top Moka coffee maker, 2-plate stove and all the things you will need to cook something amazing. Also in the draw is a full stack of take-out menus if that is more your thing.
Wireless internet as well as a printer and desktop computer with Skype installed in case you want to call home.
Lots of maps and travel documentation on Cape Town. We love Cape Town and there are tonnes of wonderful things to do here.
An amazingly comfortable extra-length queen bed. We're not kidding. It might be the most comfortable bed that you have ever slept in. It is one of the first thing that anyone who stays in the apartment remarks on.
A little patio where if you look out to the left you see the ferris wheel at the V&A Waterfront with a splash of ocean behind it, and if look right you'll be looking straight at Signal Hill, the little mountain next to Table Mountain, that we're on the edge of.
A washing machine.
A fairly large table that you could either set your laptop up and work at (like we do) or use for dining.
A little bathroom with a shower and a bath. We have plans to renovate this and will do so if we can before we leave but its possible that there won't be enough time.
Loads of international adaptor plugs.
A hair dryer.
Multiple sets of bed linen and towels.

Please take note that we don't have a TV. We're not TV people. You could watch DVDs on the desktop computer (it has a 19" monitor) if you want to. Also, we don't smoke and we wouldn't be ok with someone smoking in the apartment please.

About Green Point

It is in a vibey, central location in Cape Town. It is 15 minutes to walk downtown, 10 minutes to the V&A Waterfront, and about 10 minutes to walk to the Cape Quarter area. There are loads of fantastic restaurants in the blocks around us (we can give you recommendations), and there are great bars and nightclubs too if that's your thing. Green Point is arguably the top gayborhood in the city and there are a fair few great gay & lesbian clubs, restaurants and bars in walking distance.

We love our apartment so much and perhaps we are biased but we think you will too.

I am sorry.

Smath — Tue, 10 Apr 2012 09:22:53 +0000

Groannnn!. Sorry.

Separated at birth: Scotty McCreery and Alfred E Neuman?

Smath — Mon, 02 Apr 2012 12:57:24 +0000

Exhibit A: Scotty McCreery

Source: People.com

Exhibit B: Alfred E Neuman

Source: Leconcombre.com

Surely I am not the only one who sees this... ?

The Smadsieshelf.

Smath — Sun, 05 Feb 2012 07:29:48 +0000

Updated: the final product!

I am pant-peeingly excited about this. Last week, my dream bookshelf was finally completed. This is an idea that I have been brewing and thinking about since about the middle of last year, so to see it finally go up and completed was the most satisfying thing.

The source of my inspiration was these two shelves from Bookshelf Porn:

I've been through dozens of pages on that website to try and find the exact link for each bookshelf but I haven't been able to. If anyone knows where they're from please let me know so I can update this.

We've done renovations in our flat before and learnt from the experience that to get someone to actually show up to do the work you're hiring them to do in Cape Town is a feat not to be underestimated. We've had multiple people in the industry simply not arrive, never to be heard from again. We were all set to have the person who built our kitchen install the bookshelf too, but sadly he did not come and we were left storing a large pile of wood in our 40-something square metre flat for months. We tried re-arranging with him on three occasions, and when it got to the fourth we admitted defeat and turned to the Gumtree.

The wood: We used 32mm thick Supawood because it is really strong and looks great. We took the risk and measured (I am a very bad measurer, added to which the walls were built in the 1970s and are not straight), and ordered it ourselves from Lumber City in Woodstock. I would never have attempted this if our original cupboard guy hadn't stood us up so many times. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Sure enough there were some bloopers made, but Martini Works rolled with it and adapted the shelves to match.

No post of this nature would be complete without an ugly "before" picture. This is what the living space of our apartment looked like when we bought it. Digging the carpet tiles.

The very beginning: Magic Marker outlines! First I took to the wall with a pencil and eraser, and once I was satisfied with the compartments I broke out the spirit level, a metal ruler and the Magic Marker and inked them on more permanently.

The paint: We used 7 different colours for the walls. I bought tester-sized pots from Builders Warehouse. In addition to that we painted two coats of wood primer (base coat) on, and 2 coats of gloss enamel over that. After the 2 coats of gloss enamel we had to go over some areas again. Down the side, we painted 3 coats of chalkboard paint.

Bookshelf compartments being painted. I knew it would be an extremely fiddly job painting inside of all the compartments so I decided to paint them onto the wall before the shelf got installed.

When those colours first went onto the wall they were a huge shock as they were so bright and busy, and we were quite used to our dull empty white wall. We knew though that it would be toned down once the shelves were up and painted and stacked.

Figuring out measurements. Now that everything was drawn up on the wall, it was time to figure out the dimensions of all the separate pieces we'd need to order.

I did this by re-drawing a rough sketch of the shelf on paper and using different colour highlighters to mark off each piece so that we could figure out where we could incorporate the longest pieces.

If you try this at home, remember to deduct the thickness of the board from each bit when you write down the measurements (in our case, 32mm). One mistake that we made was to put the two outermost boards on the side of the bottom board, instead of resting ontop. We wrongly thought that the structure would be stronger for it, but in fact the opposite is true.

The frame was assembled on the ground first and then flipped up and attached with L brackets to the wall.

Getting there... finally the frame is up on the wall!

Installed shelves, ready for painting. As you can see, the paint lines were not 100% straight because I measured the little feet down at the bottom incorrectly. It was fine though, because touching the compartments up was way less painful than it'd have been to paint them all from scratch.

Smartiepants Scott had the brainy idea to buy a small artist's paintbrush to use to do the corners and it made a world of difference touching up all the little blips around the edges with that.

After the first layer of wood primer (base coat). We applied two.

Completed! The unstacked bookshelf in all its glossy beautiful glory! In the end we did:
- 3 coats of paint of each of the 7 colours on the back,
- 2 coats of primer (base coat)
- 2 coats of gloss enamel
- 3 coats of chalkboard paint down the exposed side (will post another pic)

Jobs I'd never agree to: working for the South African government

Smath — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 18:29:00 +0000

We're just winding down from an incredible holiday with Scott's folks visiting from Canada and I'm using a bit of spare time in our hotel ^* on the last night of our trip to tame my email and some news feeds so that I can start the new year off with a clean inbox.

I have to rant about this particular item: a job posting that was submitted to the South African Drupal community by a representative of the South African government. Read it and weep, drupalers. Some of my favourite lines from the job posting:

The Western Cape Government is guided by the principles of Employment Equity. Disabled candidates are encouraged to apply and an indication in this regard will be appreciated.

This is funny because it is unconstitutional in South Africa to ask about disabilities unrelated to the job. I could also argue that it would be unconstitutional to discriminate against me on the basis of disability, which similarly should apply to discriminating against against me on the basis of my lack of disability. Perhaps I should apply and note my attitude-disability towards our government.

...any job applications sent by fax or e-mail will not be accepted. All job applications, including Z83 forms, CVs and certified documents, must be posted or delivered by hand to the address listed

Firstly, no real human being applying for a job as a web developer is going to voluntarily apply by fax so you can strip this ridiculous clause out of your ridiculous ad. Secondly - WTF! Read the quote below to see what certified documents are being asked for:

Applications with reference number must be submitted on a Z83 form, obtainable from any Government Department and must be completed in full, should be accompanied by a comprehensive and current Curriculum Vitae (five pages maximum, CVs will not be returned), certified copies of identity document, driver's licence, matric certificate and academic qualification and the names of three referees.

I've had some frustrating experiences working with South African companies, and based on my experience of bureaucracy in government (and don't even get me started on the BBBEE bullshit. Yes I swore on my blog. That's how outraged I am by the rules) this would take the cake.

I would rather be cursed with going to the dentist every day for the rest of my life than work for you, South African government.

* ...and what a brilliant hotel it is! We are staying in the Graskop Hotel in Graskop ^** and each room is dedicated to a different South African artist, and features original work by that artist. On our first night we were in the Claudette Schreuders room, and tonight we are in the Martli Jansen van Rensburg room.

** You were expecting it to be somewhere other than Graskop... ?

Botswana-have-fun

Smath — Fri, 17 Jun 2011 09:33:34 +0000

This is certainly one of the more spur-of-the-moment trips that I've taken (I'm lucky to have a Scott with such a spirit for spontaneity!). We'd driven up to Johannesburg for Mitch and Nina's wedding and decided that we'd drive back to Cape Town via Botswana and Namibia. We've been loosely day-dreaming about doing an epic road trip through some southern African countries for a while, and now was a good time to have done this because up till now Scott's been busting his chops till between 2 and 3am working on an amazing site called Cargoh and it launched the day before we set off.

Crossing the border at Pioneer Gate into Lobatse was fascinating. We had no idea what to expect and had braced ourselves for a very "African" experience. What we actually experienced was a pretty laid-back, surprisingly efficient and extremely friendly set of border guards. The facilities were small-town rural but clean and quite cute. This is a photo that Scott took on his cellphone of the hand-painted Immigration sign up at the office.

This trip is a milestone trip for me because I have never been to any of the countries surrounding (or surrounded by) South Africa. The surprising part about it is that from Johannesburg it is quicker to drive to Botswana than to Durban where our family would take coastal holidays every year. In fact, hardly any Johannesburgers that I know (and I know a few) have done this drive.

More than anything we're just dipping our toes into the water here to learn about what there is in Botswana (there's a lot as it turns out) and where we like to be, and I'm certain that we'll be returning in the not-too-distant future with a more appropriate and less conspicuous vehicle.

A mini list of things I have learnt about Botswana in 5 days

The people are hands-down the friendliest people of any country that Scott and I have ever been to. I mean like seriously, uncomfortably friendly. When we first got here, I thought that the young girl who bounded up to me and asked to have her photo taken when she saw me taking a picture of The Braai Place was trying to rob and/or con me. She wasn't. She was just that friendly.
They use British-style wall plugs. Crap. We have had to purchase yet another adaptor plug.
This country is serious about its crackdown on the HIV/Aids epidemic. Every single hotel that we've stayed at has come with condoms in the draws next to the bed. The primary school in the village that we visited in Gweta had a billboard right as you enter talking about HIV/AIDS.

Today I deleted my LinkedIn account

Smath — Wed, 08 Jun 2011 13:42:52 +0000

I think we're all reaching saturation point on the social network front. Most of us are by now signed up to more of the things than what we can feasibly manage and gain value from and lately I've felt like it's time to start paring them down to the ones that are of real use to me.

For a while now I've been questioning LinkedIn's value. I had a Twitter debate with friends and the only person who insisted that it was a good idea to maintain an account was Boris:

It can be challenging to debate on Twitter with its 140 character limitation. "If I don't know you and you're not there, mark against you" - if you don't know me, you probably aren't going to be looking for me on LinkedIn anyway. You're probably going to google me or something relating to me (eg Drupal), not so? Anyway, it wasn't only me - there were other people who felt the same way as I did. I value Boris' opinions highly but this time I had to disagree.

I can't come up with a single reason why I need an account on LinkedIn, and frankly I find the site annoying. It annoys me that after I've accepted someone's contact request via email I then have to then login to the site if I want to do anything else. It annoys me that no matter how many times I login, it does not leave me logged in on my own computer. And most recently it annoyed me that the company added fields into the My Account section where it auto-opted me in to share my information with 3rd parties and affiliates, and subscribe me to emails, without ever letting me know. Facebook has a bad reputation for this stuff but when I looked through LinkedIn's account information the other day I was shocked. It was as bad as anything Facebook has ever done.

But! there is one more very important point that makes me absolutely not trust them. I'm a little ashamed to be admitting this part because it involves me having done something stupid: when I first signed up for LinkedIn a few years back they had this handy "Find your contacts from Gmail!!!" feature. Usually I am so cautious and careful about stuff like this but in a moment of stupidity I decided that it seemed like a good idea and I entered my Gmail username and password for it to auto-discover Gmail contacts of mine that were on LinkedIn. Idiot. Anyway - this was in about 2007 or 2008 I believe. Since that time I have removed all traces of that email that I could find on LinkedIn and changed my login details (on LinkedIn) so that it was using a different email account, yet to this day each time that I have logged into the site it has shown me in my list of "People You May Know" contacts that I did not meet and exchange email correspondence with until much later. One such example is the managing agent for the apartment that Scott and I bought in the middle of last year.

So what is it that am I claiming exactly? I'm claiming that LinkedIn has stored my gmail username and password on its server and without my permission continues to login and access my personal information. The only explanation for how it would know to recommend people like my managing agent to me (people who I am not connected to on ANY social network and have only actually had dealings with via email, and who I've only had dealings with in very recent times) is if it has stored my details and continued to access my email.

Please - someone prove me wrong about this, because I am disturbed. And in the mean time I am really pleased to have shut this account down.

More bad words - banned by the New York Times

Smath — Thu, 02 Jun 2011 07:53:31 +0000

A little while ago I was fascinated by a post I read on the BBC website with a list issued by the British government of their banned buzzwords.

I spent about an hour last night catching up on some of my RSS feeds (which have fallen badly by the wayside since I've been helping Nee out with her wedding preparations) and design blogger Swiss Miss had a post to a fantastic New York Times blog post in the same vein called Words We Don't Say by Hugo Lindgren.

The story goes that when he first began his job at the New York Times, Kurt Andersen who was the editor at the time has a fantastic list stuck on the wall of his office of words that writers were forbidden to use in their articles. Wherever possible these words would be edited out. This is the image accompanying the article. Click on the image to view the NY Times post:

According to Hugo Lindgren this list is from 1977 at the latest, which was when he started his position at the newspaper, and yet fascinatingly almost all of the words on this list could be applied to a banned-words list of today. I like the comments on the article which suggest some more words: decidedly, going forward, utilize (omg I completely agree!!), however, arguably, impact, reach out to (instead of contact), and decidedly.

Also via SwissMiss I browsed over to a brilliant site that appeals strongly to my desire for order: ListGeeks. The homepage is made up of a grid of various lists by users (eg favourite smells, movies they want to see etc) and one lovely list screamed out at me: Terrible "Corporate Speak" Words by stilltron.

Scott and Sam's Great Big Table Mountain Adventure

Smath — Mon, 02 May 2011 07:18:54 +0000

A few weeks back, Rob^*, Scott and I visited the Getaway Magazine Travel Show which was held in Somerset West at the Lourensford Wine Estate. It is huge, if you know what I'm saying.

This was exciting for a few reasons:

We got to take a beautiful drive out there, in gorgeous weather too, and explored a little after the show, visiting which we left with some beautiful red wine (the Lourens River Valley which is a Bordeaux-style red blend and has long since been polished off), black olive paste and a bottle of their white truffle oil which I have been daydreaming about ever since I tried it at a show a few years back
The goodie bag of unadulterated awesomeness we got at the door, including: a copy of Getaway Magazine which I have always enjoyed, countless flyers and advertisements (ok maybe not quite as awesome), a Bic disposable razor (could come in handy in a pinch, I suppose?), some Holts Quick Wash & Wax (it adds a protective wax as it washes and lifts away road grime and corrosive deposits. I've been looking for a product just like this!!1!), a Jungle Oats Energy Bar (yoghurt and berry flavour), a box of Imana mutton flavour soy mince and a sachet of dehydrated Turbo Energy. Friends, I am not making this up.
Table Mountain had a booth at the show with a lucky draw for a set of return tickets to go up the mountain on the cable way valued at (I think) R360 (about $50). We all entered, and Scott won! Imagine our excitement. Scott has never been up the cable way here and we've been planning for ages to take a trip up.

Sunday was one of the most perfect days I can remember there ever being of anywhere ever, and so we (and many tour buses of other people, and hiking mobs, and some buskers, a few casual vendors and some street kids) decided to head on up the mountain. During the World Cup soccer last year the Cable Cars got painted to look like large (they hold 65 people each) soccer balls. There's another remarkable thing about these large soccer balls: the floor rotates (don't worry, it is very gentle and at a pace that won't have you reaching for your gag bag). This means that everyone gets a fair turn at each piece of the view.

Table Mountain is amazing for many reasons, and the first that comes to mind is its proximity to the city centre. It's only a few minutes drive from where we live, and teeming with unique plants and animals. When you walk across and away from the cable way it's almost impossible to believe that you're in the middle of a city.

We got a little information booklet with our tickets and it explains that at 600 million years old Table Mountain is believed to be at least 6 times older than the Himalayas (though our mountain is old never let it be said that it is not with it: follow it on Twitter @TableMountainCA). According to the geologists it was formed under the sea and then forced up by tectonic movement, and was originally an island until the sea backed out and left it on dry land for us and the dassies to use.

This is one thing I'd highly recommend visitors to Cape Town do, whether they choose to spend the 2 to 3 hours and hike up, or take the cable way. The scenery is phenomenal and if you venture away from the cable way when you're up there, a highly refreshing break to take.

Earn some good karma!

Take a moment out to vote for our maintain to be included in the list of the New 7 Wonders of Nature, which it is a finalist for. If you have not yet visited it, take our word and vote anyway :-)

* Rob is our imported house pet who left us to go live on a boat. The couch is a much emptier place since he's gone. And our hearts. Shame.

Fantastical footwear by Kobi Levi

Smath — Thu, 28 Apr 2011 08:13:46 +0000

Quite some time ago my friend posted a link to the most bizarro and incredible shoe collection ever. I've had the tab open ever since, through power outages, through browser crashes...

These are not every-day kind of footwear. You won't step out in these babies without making a screaming statement and demanding to be noticed.

Kobi Levi is an Israeli designer who makes "artistic footwear". Really creative and really unique. He has lots listed on his site.

Thank you Jen Walker for this. Consider my mind blown.

Making it to Vegas and a little further

Smath — Thu, 17 Feb 2011 23:22:34 +0000

I don't think anyone goes to Vegas for their own hitching without expecting something unexpected to go down. On our first night there, I sat in our plush hotel room looking down over a million tiny lights and thought, I wish Scott were here too.

We chose to fly out of Bellingham in Washington State since it is a short drive to get there from Vancouver and that way we'd be taking a domestic flight instead of an international one. One the drive to Bellingham we stopped in for a cup of tea and a visit with Scott's Grandma McCleod. Her teapot was covered with a bright orange knitted poodle tea cosy like the one in the picture (except orange). I wish I'd taken a photo of it. It was nice to be able to visit her on our way into the States. All my grandmothers (I grew up with an above-average quantity of grannies thanks to multiple divorces and remarriages) have passed away and I have been lucky to acquire two really nice new ones through Scott. We looked at photos with her, and she told us what she'd been up to and gave us sandwiches. She is in her 80s but still extremely active and energetic. I hope that if I make it to 80 I am too.

After our visit we drove over the border into the US. Part of our motivation for doing this was that I would be able to pick the new camera that I'd ordered (an Olypmus EPL1). Now, while driving over the border into the US will never be as scary and invasive as flying there, it is still a real ordeal to me as a South African without a fixed address or standard employer. After a stressful border-crossing where I'd gotten the hairy eyeball and I-don't-believe-or-trust-you series of questions from the border guard we tried to find the place that had my new camera, got lost and accidentally drove ourselves right back into Canada. Spot the bloody fools. To make matters worse, it was a different border crossing than what we'd come through earlier so the guards wouldn't recognize us, and we'd technically not actually crossed into Canada. We'd attempted to do a u-turn as soon as we realized our mistake and our u-turn threw us into no-man's land with the only option being to re-enter the country that we had never officially left in the first place. I hope this doesn't cause problems for me later on. Anyway, fortunately right when our new border guard was confusedly asking us WTF we were doing (which surprised me since it was not a difficult mistake to make and we can't have been the only people to have done this), there was a diversion a few lanes down with shouting and lots of running cops and a man standing next his car with his hands in the mothaf***kn air and all lots of drama and he (the border guard) just shook his head, threw our passports back into the car at us, told us to go and ran off to partake in the drama. I can't work out whether we were lucky or unlucky that day. I'm going to mark this one down as a neutral.

After spending the night in Bellingham we'd checked in for our flight and were waiting to board, already through security and at our flight's departure the gate. Scott went off to the bathroom, and came out looking disturbed. But something was different this time: he'd broken out in a terrible rash... his body was completely...

Covered! In! Hives!!!!
cue horror-film soundtrack

Scott was well on his way to being Frankengroom. We panicked. I told him to phone his mom and ask what to do. He refused. I suppose we have different ways of problem-solving. After weighing up our options we decided that it was best for him to leave and go back to Canada where he could see a doctor without the risk of having to sell a kidney to afford the medical treatment. We explained our situation to the Alaska Airlines staff and they were beyond amazing and put him on a flight the next day at no extra charge, AND upgraded him to first class!

And so it came to be that I took the flight on my own. As soon as I'd boarded and lacking the option to phone my own mother I explained to the flight attendant that I'm not a good air traveler. She was incredible. She put down what she was doing and chatted with me, just normal chit-chat, until I calmed down. After I'd been seated a while (but before take off) she came to check on me again. The woman who I was seated next to overheard that I was freaked out and after the flight attendant had moved on to deal with less needy passengers, she offered to hold my hand during take-off and landing! During the flight, the flight attendant checked on me a few times and came to feed me vodka. All of this was incredible, but she gave me something far more important that may just have changed my life: an explanation for the terrifying experience that I had in Argentina a few years back. Apparently, sometimes when a plane is coming in to land it can get caught in the jet stream of another plane in front of it and tossed around like a leaf. She said that she'd never been on a flight where that had happened but had heard that it was terrifying. I've yet to do any research on this, but oh my god how this has changed everything for me flying-wise. So between the kindness of the ground staff, a caring flight attendant and a warm American lady who held my hand I think I could get back into this and have started entertaining thoughts of all the magical places I'd like to see (Iceland please! Oh my hat, the prettiness). As well, given the option in future I will always, always pick this airline to travel with.

Scott (aka Hive Alive - ha ha haaa!) made it back to Vancouver and had himself medicated, and made it back to the US the next day with a personal record for border crossings in a 24 hour span, and everything after that was happy and without rash :)

But more on all of that later.

Haute Macabre Fashion / Photography

Smath — Sun, 19 Dec 2010 19:25:46 +0000

This week I snuck in a monstrous catch-up of feeds. Popgloss has started featuring stuff (fashion? photography? I am not sure) from a site called Haute Macabre.

From Haute Macabre's About page:
Haute Macabre is dedicated to the grown up goth, bringing you a daily dose of alternative dark fashion with the occasional splash of culture. Haute Macabre caters to your dark side because it wasn't just a phase.

The pictures are intricately and interestingly styled, and really beautiful.

Cast of Glee in a saucy, scandalous photoshoot for GQ. Shot by 'Uncle Terry'.

Smath — Wed, 27 Oct 2010 01:02:35 +0000

I felt like I was going crazy over here - was I the only person who realized that the pictures from the GQ Glee photo shoot look like they've come straight out of an American Apparel catalogue? There's been so much buzz and shock over this photo series (which I'll admit is saucy and lascivious) and that surprises me - this is nothing new to us. I would have thought that the general public were desensitized to this sort of thing by now, and especially when it is appearing in is a publication such as the Gentleman's Quarterly.

Incidentally - the American Apparel photographer is not the same person, but compare the pictures below:

Talk about the GQ photo shoot made it into Google News for a few days straight and so of course I checked it out. Only later did I recognize the name of the photographer, and when I did I felt dirty: Terry Richardson.

Terry Richardson. I know why I know you. It is because of this: http://ny.racked.com/archives/2010/03/19/more_stories_of_terry_richardso... and this http://jezebel.com/5494634/meet-terry-richardson-the-worlds-most-fked-up...

This is a man who would strip down and waggle his effeminate 'manliness' in the faces of young and inexperienced (sometimes underage) girls who were hoping to make it big in fashion and therefore too afraid to stand up for themselves or tell anyone. It is soft porn shot of unwilling subjects. Here's a quote from the Racked article I linked to:

One model told Jezebel that Richardson had coerced her into going down on him on-camera; another describes being manhandled at a Richardson shoot at a Suicide Girls party when she was underage. Meanwhile, W magazine hasn't worked with him in years, perhaps because the art director took offense to a photo he did of a woman with her head in an oven.

Before you argue that this is an isolated incident and possibly / probably biased reporting by a bitter model, you should take a look at this [The Gloss], this [NY Post], this [NY Post] and this [NY Observer]. Colour me convinced that this man is a pervert.

I enjoy occasional naughty, risque, out-there advertisements and photography. However, where the subjects are not 100% ok with the pictures being taken of them and have been manipulated or coerced in any way into removing their clothing and posing explicitly (this link is not safe for work) - that's not ok. It's doubtful that with such a high-profile shoot the Glee actors were manipulated in any way, but still I am surprised that GQ would in clear conscience hire someone with this stack of allegations against him.

Tiny pencil-tip sculptures by Dalton Ghetti

Smath — Sun, 10 Oct 2010 03:29:11 +0000

Every now and again ones mom sends one an email with pictures that one must google because they seem near impossible.

This morning's email forward was about a man named Dalton Ghetti who has been creating these little guys for 25 years. From April to August this year some of his work was exhibited at the New Britain Museum of American Art in Connecticut in an exhibition called Meticulous Masterpieces.

From the museum's website:
Dalton Ghetti, of Bridgeport, Connecticut, has been making his pencil creations since he was a schoolboy in Brazil. Using a variety of simple razors and needles, he carves incredibly detailed miniature sculptures out of the lead core of pencils without the aid of technology or even a magnifying glass. Alphabet, 2005, comprised of 26 individual pencils, is his most famous work.

Alphabet

The level of detail is phenomenal and I'm definitely a fan (plus I like hearts - could you tell?).

I did a bit of poking around and it seems, sadly, that he doesn't have his own website. There's plenty of buzz about him on the net though and he was even featured in a post on BoingBoing.

Some Things You Are Not Allowed to Send Around The World

Smath — Fri, 08 Oct 2010 02:02:59 +0000

Near the end of a long trip in 2006 I visited the Arnolfini Gallery in Bristol where I picked up a poster entitled "Some things You Are Not Allowed To Send Around The World". By sheer coincidence I now have a blog post of that very same title. Perhaps it is a sign.

Artist Melanie Jackson created a poster as an artwork which lists different countries' bizarro mailing rules. This is a snippet from her website:

Some Things You Are Not Allowed To Send Around The World is a poster made up of the recent ‘prohibition and restriction’ guidelines issued by international post offices. The assembled list reveals some of the superstitions and regional eccentricities associated with the exchange of goods. This poster will be available as one of a series of free publications produced for the exhibition.

I was completely fascinated and amused by the list and while you will sadly not be getting any free posters from this website, I have provided you with its contents below *.

I love YOU, Czech Republic: "Chain letters". My comments are in grey.

Algeria	Australia	Benin
China	Croatia	Czech Republic
Ecuador	Dominican Republic	Faroe Islands
France	Germany	Iceland
Israel	Italy	Jamaica
Jordan	Kuwait	Morocco
Oman	Paraguay	Peru
Somalia	Sri Lanka	Tajikistan
United Kingdom	Unites States of America	Quatar
Vietnam	Zimbabwe

Algeriatop

Articles made of tortoise-shell, mother of pearl, ivory, bone meerschaum and amber (succin), natural or reconstructed, worked jade and mineral substances similar to jade
Canned vegetables, fish, plums and nuts
Funeral urns
Household articles made of tin
Perishable infectious biological substances
Perishable non-infectious biological substances
Pictures and printed matter of pornographic or immoral nature, or which tend to incite crime or juvenile deliquency
Saccharine in tablets or packets
Used clothing, accessories, blankets, linen, textile furnishings, footwear and headwear
Watches and clocks.

Australiatop

Fruit cartons (used or new)
Goods bearing the name "Anzac"
Animals and animal products, brushes, second-hand carpets, margarine, vaccines, plant and plant material (including pot pourri, heather, fir cones, shamrock), sugar, syrup and molasses, straw packing
Goods produced wholly or partly in prisons or by convict labour

"We'll produce our own, mate."
Cinema films

They aren't big into non-alcohol related fun in Australia
Registered philatelic articles with fictitious addresses

And let's all be truthful here. Nobody likes a stamp-collecter.
Seditious literature

Benintop

Alcoholic beverages and products which could be used for the manufacture of alcoholic beverages
Banana, citrus, cocoa, coffee, cotton plants, sugar cane, saccharine and chemical food colouring
Gramaphone records
Medals and coins
Military equipment
Mineral water
Uncut diamonds
Water hyacinths

Chinatop

Articles in hermetically sealed non-transparent containers
Funeral urns containing ashes
Pork products
Printed matter, manuscripts, notices, photographic negatives, gramophone records and sound-track tapes which could do political, economical, cultural or moral harm to the People's Republic of China
Radio transmitters or receivers
Wrist-watches, cameras, television sets, radio sets, tape recorders, bicycles, sewing machines and ventilators

Croatiatop

Celluloid and film
Grain grown or stored in the UK
Plants and seeds
Raw meats, meats, milk and dairy products of all kinds from cattle, goats, pigs, sheep and other cloven hoofed animals
Spoons, forks, whistles

Czech Republictop

Chain letters
Publications, sheet music, drawings, photographs, films etc prejudicial to the Republic

Heaven help you if you're caught posting prejudicial chain letters

Ecuadortop

Feeding bottles
Footwear of leather, fabric or rubber
Horse bits and mouth pieces of copper
Items and objects of immoral nature eg horse bits?
Pointed or sharp-edged objects
Preparations for erasing ink or other writings
Roulette wheels or gambling articles
Straw hats

A straw hat in Ecuador stays a straw hat in Ecuador

Dominican Republictop

Communist literature
Poniards, daggers, stilletos, sticks, or fans with concealed blades or firearms

At least one country has recognized stilletos as the dangerous items they are and classified them accordingly
Roulette games and other gambling devices

Faroe Islandstop

Danish currency
Dried milk products, honeycombs
Raw hides

I hadn't even heard of this place but should I ever wind up there I will now know not to try and post my raw hides and Danish currency

Francetop

Measuring instruments marked in units not complying with French law

The French are really serious about implementing standards.

Germanytop

Absinthe
Articles bearing political or religious notions on the address side

What, so you can post them as long as they're not on the address side? *shreds all the religious-notion postcards I'd just written to all my friends and family
Melatonin

I find this one quite interesting considering that melatonin is an over-the-counter drug in many other places
Playing cards, except in complete decks properly wrapped

"Ve vill not tolerate anyone in foreign countries cheating anyone in a game of cards posted in ZIS country!"
Pulverized cocoa beans

Icelandtop

Bees

But Iceland is facing an economic meltdown! How am I supposed to get my bees out?!
Hay and straw
Lead toys
Rags
Silk worms

Israeltop

Blank invoices with headings
Games of chance
Indecent or obscene marks, paintings, photographs, books, cards, lithographs, or engravings
Organic fertilizers
Lottery tickets or advertisements

If any of these are discovered they will be tossed straight into the non-organic fertilizer pile
Soil and sand

I think that the person who tries to mail sand has a bigger problem than Israel's restrictions
Spices exceeding 1kg
Used beehives

Sorry, Amy Winehouse.

Italytop

These guys are severe

Albums of any kind
Artificial flowers and fruits and accessories for them

Huh? You mean like those awful garden gnomes?
Bells and other musical instruments and parts thereof

for these shall surely drive the mailman nuts
Cartridge caps, cartridges
Clocks and supplies for clocks

this is part of their plan to have the rest of the world be as un-punctual
Compound medicaments and medicines
Coral mounted in any way
Ether and chloroform

Ok, fair enough...
Exposed photographic and cinematographic films
Footwear of any kind

Oh sweet torture. Why Italy, why? We love your shoes.
Haberdashery and sewn articles of any kind, including trimmings and lace; handkerchiefs; scarves; shawls; needlework including stockings and gloves; bonnets, caps and hats of any kind
Hair and articles made of hair

Like my dad!
Leather goods
Lighters and their parts, including lighter flints
Live bees, leeches and silkworms
Nutmeg, vanilla, sea salt, rock salt, saffron
Parasites and predators of harmful insects
Perfumery goods of all kinds (except soap)
Playing cards of any kind
Postage stamps in sealed or unsealed letters
Ribbons for typewriters
Roasted or ground coffee and its substitutes, roasted chicory
Saccharine and all products containing saccharine
Salted, smoked or otherwise prepared meats, fats and lard
Toys not made wholly of wood
Treated skins and furs
Weapons of any kind and spare parts for them

Jamaicatop

Cotton and parts of cotton plants
Cordage and twine
Figurines
Honey, cocoa and cocoa products, coffee products, condensed milk

Jordantop

Advertisements concerning treatment of venereal diseases or medicinal preparations intended to serve as preventatives against those diseases

Kuwaittop

Rubber balloons
Binoculars
Alcoholic drink

Because you know what happens with balloons and binoculars after a few alcoholic drinks..!
All goods of Israeli origin
Political publications
Tapes and casettes

Moroccotop

Seditious literature
Spirits
Spurious substances designed to adulterate food and drink

You mean like McDonalds?

Omantop

Articles contrary to the principles of Islam
Liquid chemicals
Fire extinguishing products
Cultured, immitation, artificial and bleached pearls

Paraguaytop

Batteries
Plastic Toys
Soaps
Stocking and socks except those made of jersey

>Because they want their country to be totally rid of any stockings made of jersey! I can respect that.
Suitcases, leather bags
Wool blankets

Perutop

Artificial flowers and interior ornaments

Because they're in poor taste?
Cameras
Ceramic products and immitation jewellery
Clothing, accessories, and underwear

I'm sure stockings made of jersey do not count as being any of those items
Communist propoganda
Contraceptive products, remedies or apparatus
Credit cards
Daggers
Electrical household appliances
Ether
Footwear, shoes, boots and accessories
Furs and clothing made of fur

Good for you, Peru. This is one I can stand by
Gloves and hosiery
Household articles of iron, steel, copper and aluminium
Household linens
Knuckledusters
Lighters
Perfume products or soaps
Playing cards
Politically sensitive material

Having trouble imagining who would, or how this ever would happen
Sabres
Sound recorders and reproducing devices

I hope you specified a return address on the photocopier that you mailed to Peru
Textiles and carpets
Toys or games for children which might harm the cultural or historical heritage of Peru
Travel articles, suitcases, attache cases, kits or similar articles
Waxes and creams for shoes

Because these items do not exist in Peru
Wooden utensils

It seems that what exists in Peru, stays in Peru.

Somaliatop

Abortifacients
Aphrodisiacs

I suppose banning this item helps eliminate the need for the previous item
Condensed milk

Likewise with this ;)
Picture postcards

lol

Sri Lankatop

Account books, albums, calendars, carbon paper, chalk, envelopes, exercise books, pencils, pens, pen-holders, pins, registers, rubbers, wire clips

In fact, make that any item that might encourage nerdy behaviour.
Ashtrays
Bicycle parts
Cameras and other photographic apparatus
Clothing and footwear
Crockery, tablewear, picnic baskets, flasks
Chemical products
Electric lamps for household use, torches
Greeting cards
Handbags and cases, traveling cases
Household electrical equipment
Jewellery and jewel cases
Household electrical equipment
Playing cards and similar games
Illustrated postcards
Publicity materials including films
Sarees
Scales
Sports goods
Sunglasses
Tape recorders and tape recorder parts
Toiletries
Toys made of earthenware or wood
Varnishes
Waste paper

Eh?

Tajikistantop

I'd never even heard of Tjikistan before receiving this poster.

Documents, printed matter, photographs, and so on likely to be construed as prejudicial to Tajik views
Corrected proofs and printed matter with marked words or phrases
Stamp collections sent to private persons
Sulphate or copper

United Kingdomtop

Any postal item containing enclosures addressed to different persons at different addresses
Citizenz Band Radios, walkie-talkies, microbugs, and radio microphones that are capable of transmitting on any frequency between 26.1 - 29.7 megacycles per second and 88-108 Mhz per second
Goods made in foreign prisons, except those imported for a non-commercial purpose or of a kind not manufactured in the UK
Horror comics and matrices
Obscene articles, prints, paintings, cards, films, videotapes, etc
Seal skins except those from an accepted source
Switchblade knives

Unites States of Americatop

Advertisements for obscene/immoral articles

I wonder how they gauge what is obscene or immoral in the land of the free?
Advertisements relating to lotteries
Contraceptives
Goods originating in Cuba, North Korea, Vietnam

Quatartop

Articles giving off a fetid odour
Cultured, immitation and bleached pearls
Items whose make-up does not comply with regulations
Garments bearing the name of the divinity or verses from the Koran
Obscene or immoral articles
Musical greeting cards
Remote controlled toy aircraft for children

Vietnamtop

Invisible ink, codes, cyphers, symbols or other types of secret correspondence, and shorthand notes
Perishable infectious biological substances
Radio transmitters and receivers and radio set accessories of any kind
Sealed, tinned foodstuffs
Unused postage stamps
Used clothing, blankets, mosquito nets, and shoes

These guys are crazy. How did shoes wind up categorized alongside mosquito nets?

Zimbabwetop

Aphrodisiacs

Perhaps this explains the mess that Zim is currently in.
Circulars relating to lotteries

Because nobody anywhere has any money anymore in Zimbabwe
Fortune telling advertisements

* DISCLAIMER: I have not validated or even attempted to validate or cross check any of the information in this list. I have a job and more importantly I have a life that extends beyond the internet, so please don't turn up at my home wielding pitchforks and bad vibes if you spot something here that you believe to be incorrect. Having said that, I'd like to believe that this is all true and most especially the bit about the Czech Republic and chain letters, which would make them a more evolved being than the rest of us.

My love affair with the air. A long winded rambling about what has become my nightmare.

Smath — Tue, 21 Sep 2010 04:26:27 +0000

Pure, unbridled terror. You know what it feels like. Your palms are soaked wet and your heart is pounding so loudly that you're certain that it must be disturbing the person sitting next to you. I started writing this post on a flight from Cape Town to Johannesburg, the first of 9 flights that I've scheduled to take over the next month. I sucked back a triple dose of Rescue Remedy within the first 10 minutes of the flight and that just wasn't cutting it, so I drank. When I'm on the plane all my senses switch to hyper-alert and every little sound or motion change shakes me up. I notice that the man 2 rows ahead of me has a cast on his right foot, which is hanging out in the aisle. It could be worse, I think to myself... if this plane goes down, that man is a goner for certain.

My love affair with the air began in 1989 when I was 7 years old. Our family had moved to Johannesburg from Port Elizabeth because my Dad had been transferred for work. That year my mom bought me a ticket back to Port Elizabeth to visit my best friend. It became a yearly treat. At the airport all the nice air hostesses would fuss over me and take care of me, thanks to my UNACCOMPANIED MINOR status. Flying became a real treat and over and above the destination what I looked forward to immensely was the flight. I absolutely loved the magic of being in the air and would do my best to secure myself a spot at the window. I couldn't stop looking out at all the tiny things down on the ground.

I'm not what you'd call a stranger to flying. Since 2000 I've done individual trips to England (three times), Nigeria, Buenos Aires and Tanzania, done a round-the-world trip in 2006 (18 flights), traveled to Drupalcon Barcelona in 2007 (8 flights), a trip to New York in 2007 (with 3 flights), a round-the-world trip in 2008 (17 flights), this latest batch of flying madness involving Drupalcon Copenhagen & Canada, and countless domestic trips in-between. I would even go so far as to say that I like being at the airport.

Well - liked, anyway. In November 2008 I set off on the start of a new exciting round the world trip, and I had all sorts of ideas and plans and more excitement than I could contain. First stop Buenos Aires with a layover in Sao Paulo. The flight departed from Sao Paolo on time in the early evening and would land in BA after dark. I had a whole 3-seater row to myself, and it had been a long day of flying so I slept lightly most of the way. All was well and I was looking forward to the indulgent pleasure of being in this new amazing city, and to being with Scott again who I had not seen since September.

I was woken up to the sound of the seatbelt sign being switched on. Ok I thought, it's only a few minutes until landing and the plane was descending at what felt like a swift pace.

I could not have been more unprepared for what happened next. The plane hit very bad turbulence and dipped down hard. It sounded like the pilot had smashed the jet's belly down onto solid concrete. I was strapped in but obviously not well enough because I lifted completely off of my seat. After the sudden drop the plane flipped completely over onto its left side, and then onto its right and back again onto its left and then finally we straightened out and proceeded with a very turbulent descent. The scene played out in slow-motion for me. I could see all the sparkling lights of the city down below. It was like being in a car where the driver has lost control of the vehicle and tries to straighten out but over-corrects. There was an announcement made by the pilot after the flipping and bumping on the plane but it was in Spanish and I'll never know for sure just how close we were to crashing that day. Of course the attendant I spoke to afterwards assured me that everything was fine but they are robots and are trained to do that.

At that time I believed that I was going to die in that plane. A million thoughts raced across my mind, and the first was that Scott would arrive in BA the next day and think that I had stood him up. I imagined him being in this foreign country alone. I wondered if he'd stay for the full three months after learning of our plane crash or if he'd be freaked out and go back home to Vancouver. I thought about my mom and dad and sister, and I thought about the data on my laptop and wished that I'd backed up before leaving home so that my clients could get their work from it. I thought of the cash withdrawal I'd just made at Johannesburg International Airport before I left that morning, the largest amount of cash I'd ever carried (I had to pay for the full 3 months of our accommodation upfront) and I was mightily pissed off that it was about to go up in flames and my sister wouldn't get to spend it (I decided that thats what my parents would do with all my stuff - give it to her). I also thought about all the people living in the houses below that we would fall onto. It was after dark and I was sure that they'd be in their homes, and wished that I had a way to warn them to evacuate.

Most people I've spoken to have had a bad flight at some point before and so had I. This one was different though. It left me aware of my mortality. For me now, the focal point of travel has switched from excitement about the destination, to paralytic fear and anxiety for weeks preceeding the trip over the stupid flight.

I turned to the internet. Surely I couldn't be the only person this has happened to, I thought. I was right! There are courses designed especially for people like me and the unanimous opinion was that the best fix was one offered by Virgin Atlantic. There was one problem: I would have to fly to London for that.

I've tried talking to friends and family in the hope that someone might have some comforting words and I instead discovered that nearly everyone else had some form of latent anxiety too. I even learnt from my aunt that she had been in a plane that crashed (it was a minor accident, but an accident all the same)! People suggested I see a psychologist but that won't cut it - I need someone who is both a psychologist and someone who can explain to me what all the noises in the plane mean, and the technical reason why the plane will "never" fall out of the sky because of turbulence. My trust was shattered that day.

Some flights are worse than others: on a recent flight out of Vancouver we were on the smallest plane I'd ever been on (it had propellers and only 12 rows of seating). This was definitely the flight that I freaked out worst at, and for no reason at all other than how the plane looked. When we walked across the tarmac and onto the plane I felt like I was being led into a gas chamber. The flight wasn't even particularly turbulent and I'm ashamed to admit that I fretted and quietly howled the whole way through it. Scott thinks that the flight attendant thought that I was grieving a lost friend or relative, which took the edge of my embarrassment (he's kind that way). I had to greet my inlaws-to-be with red puff-face though.

I'm still looking for a course to take and would appreciate any information or advice that anyone has. My fiance is from a country very far way away from mine and I don't want to spend the rest of my life going through this every six months, because not flying anymore simply isn't an option.

--
Incase you're wondering, the flight was with Aerolineas Argentinas. This flight isn't the reason that I will never user this awful airline again, because we all flew together to Iguazu Falls after that. Scott wrote about them, and after that I can truthfully say that I would rather pay 3 times the cost with any other airline than use Aerolineas Argentinas ever again. If you are ever given the option, do not travel with this airline. They are very bad.

Open letter to our Foreign Media friends by Peter Davies

Smath — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 10:35:29 +0000

My friend Kathleen emailed me this open letter this morning. I'm not sure really if I'm allowed to re-post this here, I hope they don't mind. Please also visit the original posting by Peter Davies on Super Sport at http://www.supersport.com/football/blogs/peter-davies/Open_letter_to_our...

This is a perfect time for him to have written this, and I hope that the patriotism and excitement that are running so high now continue to do so for a very long time. I hope that our foreign guests go home and tell their friends and families back home just how friendly most South Africans are, and what a pretty country we have. I hope our reputation changes to something more positive, and I believe that it deserves too. I am happy that we've been given this opportunity to invite the rest of the world over to our place.

Open letter to our Foreign Media friends

Dear World Cup visitors,

Now that you are safely in our country you are no doubt happily realising you are not in a war zone. This may be in stark contrast to what you have been bracing yourself for should you have listened to Uli Hoeness or are an avid reader of English tabloids, which as we all know are only good for wrapping fish ‘n chips and advancing the careers of large-chested teens on page three.

As you emerge blinking from your luxury hotel room into our big blue winter skies, you will surely realise you are far more likely to be killed by kindness than by a stray bullet. Remember that most of the media reports you have read, which have informed your views on South Africa, will have been penned by your colleagues. And you know what journos are like, what with their earnest two thousand word opuses on the op-ed pages designed to fix this country’s ills in a heartbeat. Based on exhaustive research over a three-day visit.

Funnily enough, we are well aware of the challenges we face as a nation and you will find that 95% of the population is singing from the same song-sheet in order to ensure we can live up to our own exacting expectations.

We are also here to look after you and show you a good time. Prepare to have your preconceived notions well and truly shattered.

For instance, you will find precious few rhinos loitering on street corners, we don’t know a guy in Cairo named Dave just because we live in Johannesburg, and our stadiums are magnificent, world-class works of art.

Which is obviously news to the Sky TV sports anchor who this week remarked that Soccer City looked ‘ a bit of a mess’. She didn’t realize the gaps in the calabash exterior are to allow in natural light and for illumination at night, and not the result of vandalism or negligence.

The fact that England, the nation which safely delivered Wembley Stadium two years past its due date, is prepared to offer us South Africans advice on stadium-readiness should not be surprising. The steadiest stream of World Cup misinformation has emanated from our mates the Brits over the past couple of years.

If it’s not man-eating snakes lurking in Rooney’s closet at the team’s (allegedly half-built) Royal Bafokeng training base, then it’s machete-wielding gangs roaming the suburbs in search of tattooed, overweight Dagenham dole-queuers to ransack and leave gurgling on the pavement.

In fact what you are entering is the world’s most fascinating country, in my opinion. I’m pretty sure you will find that it functions far more smoothly, is heaps more friendly and offers plenty more diversions than you could possibly have imagined.

In addition to which, the population actually acts like human beings, and not like they are being controlled by sinister forces from above which turns them into bureaucratically-manipulated robots.

Plus we have world’s most beautiful women. The best weather. Eight channels of SuperSport. Food and wine from the gods themselves. Wildlife galore. (Love the Dutch team’s bus slogan: “Don’t fear the Big 5; fear the Orange 11”).

Having said all that, Jo’burg is undoubtedly one of the world’s most dangerous cities. Just ask those Taiwanese tourists who got out of their hire car to take close-up snaps of tawny beasts at the Lion Park a few years back. Actually, ask what’s left of them. And did you know the chances of being felled by cardiac arrest from devouring a mountain of meat at one of our world class restaurants has been statistically proven to be 33.3% higher in Jozi than in any other major urban centre not built upon a significant waterway? It’s true. I swear. I read it in a British tabloid.

Having recently spent two years comfortably cocooned in small town America, I’m only too aware of how little much of the outside world knows about this country. The American channel I used to work for has a massive battalion of employees descending on World Cup country. It has also apparently issued a recommendation to its staff to stay in their hotels when not working.

Given that said corporation is headquartered in a small town which many say is “best viewed through the rear-view mirror”, I find the recommendation, if it’s true, to be utterly astounding. In fact I don’t believe it is true. Contrary to the global stereotype, the best Americans are some of the sharpest people in the world. The fact they have bought most tickets in this World Cup proves the point.

Of course I have only lived in Johannesburg, city of terror and dread, virtually all my life, so don’t have the in-depth knowledge of say, an English broadsheet journalist who has been in the country for the weekend, but nevertheless I will share some of my observations gleaned over the years.

Any foreign tourist or media representative who is worried about his safety in South Africa should have a word with the Lions rugby fans from last year, or the Barmy Army cricket supporters (lilywhite hecklers by day, slurring, lager-fuelled lobsters by night). They managed just fine, just like the hundreds of thousands of fans who have streamed into the country over the past fifteen years for various World Cups, Super 14 matches, TriNations tests and other international events. Negligible crime incidents involving said fans over said period of time.

Trivia question: which country has hosted the most global sporting events over the past decade and a half? You don’t need me to answer that, do you?

In addition. Don’t fret when you see a gaggle of freelance salesmen converge on your car at the traffic lights (or robots as we like to call them) festooned with products. You are not about to be hijacked. Here in Mzansi (nickname for SA) we do a lot of our purchasing at robots. Here you can stock up on flags, coat hangers, batteries, roses for the wife you forgot to kiss goodbye this morning and a whole host of useful merchandise.

Similarly, that guy who runs up as you park the rental car outside the pub intends no malice. He’s your car guard. Give him a buck or two and your vehicle will be safe while you refuel for hours on our cheap, splendid beer. Unless someone breaks into it, of course.

We drive on the left in this country. Exercise caution when crossing the road at a jog-trot with 15 kilograms of camera gear on your back. Exercise common sense full stop. Nothing more. Nothing less. If you want to leave wads of cash in your hotel room like our Colombian friends, don’t be surprised if it grows wings.

Bottomline. Get out there and breathe in great lusty lungfuls of this amazing nation. Tuck into our world-class food and wines. Disprove the adage that white men can’t dance at our throbbing, vibrant night-clubs. Learn to say hello in all eleven official languages. Watch at least one game in a township. You will not be robbed and shot. You will be welcomed like a lost family member and looked after as if you are royalty. Ask those Bulls rugby fans who journeyed to Soweto recently.

With a dollop of the right attitude, this country will change your life.

It’s Africa’s time. Vacate your hotel room. Join the party.

Waka waka eh eh.

Christopher Lee. He makes pretty illustrations.

Smath — Fri, 23 Apr 2010 21:13:12 +0000

Have a look at this guy's work - http://www.thebeastisback.com - adorable and with such personality in his characters! I Am Medic is one of my favourites:

There seems to be a trend lately towards having far-apart eyes in illustrations, a la The Simpsons. On that note, I have noticed an interesting thing this week: Jacob Zuma (who is often referred to here by his nickname JZ) has this same feature! Scott and I have been spending a lot of time in the South African Home Affairs offices here (we're applying for a longer-term temporary residence permit for him*) and in each office is a framed picture of the man. For your viewing pleasure I present to you a picture of the man himself. Perhaps the shape or style of his glasses accentuates it.

Anyway, I digress. I found Christopher Lee's website from Smashing Magazine's article Beautiful Illustrator Artworks By Artists Around The World. I follow them on Twitter (http://twitter.com/smashingmag) and suggest that you do too. They post links to their site which is full of useful articles with how-tos, compilations of beautiful graphic art and designs and other nice miscellany.

* This experience actually warrants a post or two of its own. Nothing could have prepared us for what we were in for.

British-government's banned buzzwords

Smath — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 22:03:17 +0000

In March last year the British government issued an official list of words that have been banned from use by the councils in order that council members effectively communicate. Read the BBC reports on this.

I find this quite amusing.. and I also think that this is a Good Thing, albeit a rather daft list ("client" is a buzzword?). With people everywhere reading many of the same things thanks to the high-speed information sharing of the internet, the meanings of catchy phrases will often become warped or altogether changed, and either way, lose their meaning and their impact.

The full list of the banned words below:

Agencies	Ambassador	Area based
Area focused	Autonomous	Baseline
Beacon	Benchmarking	Best Practice
Blue sky thinking	Bottom-Up	CAAs
Can do culture	Capabilities	Capacity
Capacity building	Cascading	Cautiously welcome
Challenge	Champion	Citizen empowerment
Client	Cohesive communities	Cohesiveness
Collaboration	Commissioning	Community engagement
Compact	Conditionality	Consensual
Contestability	Contextual	Core Message
Core principles	Core Value	Coterminosity
Coterminous	Cross-cutting	Cross-fertilisation
Customer	Democratic legitimacy	Democratic mandate
Dialogue	Direction of travel	Distorts spending priorities
Double devolution	Downstream	Early Win
Edge-fit	Embedded	Empowerment
Enabler	Engagement	Engaging users
Enhance	Evidence Base	Exemplar
External challenge	Facilitate	Fast-Track
Flex	Flexibilities and Freedoms	Framework
Fulcrum	Functionality	Funding streams
Gateway review	Going forward	Good practice
Governance	Guidelines	Holistic
Holistic governance	Horizon scanning	Improvement levers
Incentivising	Income streams	Indicators
Initiative	Innovative capacity	Inspectorates
Interdepartmental	Interface	Iteration
Joined up	Joint working	LAAs
Level playing field	Lever	Leverage
Localities	Lowlights	MAAs
Mainstreaming	Management capacity	Meaningful consultation
Meaningful dialogue	Mechanisms	Menu of Options
Multi-agency	Multidisciplinary	Municipalities
Network model	Normalising	Outcomes
Output	Outsourced	Overarching
Paradigm	Parameter	Participatory
Partnership working	Partnerships	Pathfinder
Peer challenge	Performance Network	Place shaping
Pooled budgets	Pooled resources	Pooled risk
Populace	Potentialities	Practitioners
Predictors of Beaconicity	Preventative services	Prioritization
Priority	Proactive	Process driven
Procure	Procurement	Promulgate
Proportionality	Protocol	Provider vehicles
Quantum	Quick hit	Quick win
Rationalisation	Rebaselining	Reconfigured
Resource allocation	Revenue Streams	Risk based
Robust	Scaled-back	Scoping
Sector wise	Seedbed	Self-aggrandizement
Service users	Shared priority	Shell developments
Signpost	Single conversations	Single point of contact
Situational	Slippage	Social contracts
Social exclusion	Spatial	Stakeholder
Step change	Strategic	Strategic priorities
Streamlined	Sub-regional	Subsidiarity
Sustainable	Sustainable communities	Symposium
Synergies	Systematics	Taxonomy
Tested for Soundness	Thematic	Thinking outside of the box
Third sector	Toolkit	Top-down
Trajectory	Tranche	Transactional
Transformational	Transparency	Upstream
Upward trend	Utilise	Value-added
Vision	Visionary	Welcome

We could use such a list in tech. Web 2.0 anyone?

Brothers Dressler: peculiarly combining two of my great loves

Smath — Fri, 09 Apr 2010 07:41:59 +0000

Furniture and shoes!

These benches are made from salvaged items and are therefore all unique. I am not sure that I would want one of these babies in my home (only because it might be creepy when you get up in the dark to get a glass of water at night) but I just love the idea and the execution.

Incidentally, they have rather a beautifully designed and simple website too, go look -> http://www.brothersdressler.com.

The in-person version of telesales

Smath — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 18:02:08 +0000

I have a peeve.

When I'm in a store, or walking out on the street somewhere, I like to listen to music on my ipod. I am not here to socialize, and if were rest assured I would not be doing it with my ipod on.

On more than one occasion now I have been in a store doing my thing and minding my own business, and someone promoting some or other product I'm not interested in will approach me. I have even had situations where I've been so engrossed in what I'm doing that I have not noticed them, and they tap me on the shoulder from behind to get my attention.

"Would you like to try our new Nondescript Conditioner (tm)?"

Yes, in fact I do.. it's exactly what I want, and that's why I walked right past and neither noticed it nor cared. Miaw!

Another thing: I live in Johannesburg where we have something of a crime problem. When someone sneaks up on me in a public place I get:

a terrible fright
a vicious self-defense knee-jerk reaction
pretty annoyed!

Hopefully soon people will realize that there is an etiquette around bothering people who are most likely not interested in what you're selling, and that those who are interested will give you a sign.

Originally written on 2008-09-23 14:24

Pretty Fly

Smath — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 17:57:56 +0000

Well. Who didn't grow up listening to these punks. I've watched this so many times and still it amuses me.

And a few years later we would be presented with Eminem who from a distance actually does look a lot like the subject in Pretty Fly.

Not convinced? Observe Exhibit A:

And Exhibit B, a still from the video:

Talking to a bully

Smath — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 10:55:11 +0000

I was in an abusive relationship. It's a very good feeling to be able to write "was" and not "am" and I count every little improvement milestone. There were three physical incidents but it was predominantly emotional and mental. It first began 7 months into the relationship but I did not start acknowledging that something was very wrong and talking to friends until about a year later. It was something that I did not know how to identify or recognize, and did not realize the situation that I was getting into. Our friends had no idea. He was good at controlling and hiding his explosive temper and putting on a show for everyone, as these types always are.

This was filmed secretly by him on his cellphone and it took place a while after we'd broken up (no idea how I landed up with a copy, he must have given it to me though I cannot imagine why). Even though there is nothing happening in this video I get knots in my stomach and my heart races when I watch it. Nina removed the audio for me because I don't want to hear his voice, and I don't particularly want anyone else to have to either :) It's interesting to watch how I'm reacting to his line of interrogation. I always felt like I'd handled the situation so poorly for allowing him do and say the things he did, but from watching this video now I feel quite proud because I kept my composure so well even though at the time what I wanted more than anything was to deliver a swift stiletto to the junk!

It's years later and I still have nightmares from time to time and wake up with a pounding heart and sometimes crying. One of my best friends suggested that this is happening now because I'm in a safe enough place to start processing the things that happened. Talking about it helps. I wonder how much longer I'll still feel the need to talk about it for.

It all ends well though! There are many things that I've learned from the experience. For one thing, it made me realize yet again what truly special people I have chosen to call my friends. As soon as I let them be, they were more supportive and loving than I could ever express adequate thanks for. Also I've gained a different type of self-awareness specifically relating to my boundaries, and most importantly a deep appreciation for what, and who, I have now.