Day 22 here and while I’ve been thinking a lot about possible posts, the reality of camp life here is such that it’s actually very difficult to blog. One of my colleagues is watching Spartacus about two metres away and so you may get a whiff of blood and sand in this post instead of anything else that I want to say.
The pic above is the hotel where L and I stayed two weekends ago. It was a lovely (albeit short) weekend. The hotel is named in honour of one of Bloemfontein’s most well-known sons, JRR Tolkien. Well, not named after him exactly but you know what I mean. We stayed in Legolas the elf’s room and the decorators managed to make the room feel old and light at the same time. A hobbit or an elf would have felt right at home (and I’ll leave you to decide which of L and I would be the hobbit and which the elf).
Even the mess looks pretty good in the right light. You’ll have to imagine gristly meat and the occasional rat pack with some stodgy porridge thrown in for good measure.
I don’t think the ostriches would have taken too kindly to Grad’s suggestion to scramble their young ones for an omelette! This was as close as I could get.
I’ll leave it there for this week. Thanks for reading and think of me on Wednesday when I fly out to Sudan on the first flight. Hopefully I’ll be able to check in from that side and I won’t have my ears assaulted with so many violent movies, hours of gospel music on a Sunday (eh, eh, Jesu, hallelujah) and all the other boarding school horrors of sharing a tent with eight other men. I think I did well to survive this far without any violence whatsoever. I’ve managed to pick up a chronic sore throat in the process (don’t even mention antibiotics – I don’t think modern medicine has reached these parts yet) but maybe that’s all part of the process, right?
And sorry I haven’t been round to read the usual blogs (and any unusual ones too). I’ll make it up when I get back.