Yes, yes, of course there’s room

In Zimbabwe a common request when anyone is looking to purchase a vehicle is for a ‘fuel saver’. The type of vehicle required is unspecified, it must just run on the sniff of an oil rag.

With, of course, the exception of government officials. They require a ‘gas guzzler’.

Zimbabwe is a horrendously expensive place. So, it’s natural that saving costs is a concern.

As a result, the most popular form of public transport taxi is a Honda Fit. A Honda Fit is not a big car, its a 5 seater. Clearly its been tried and tested as reliable and a fuel saver.

It’s necessary, it appears, to tint the windows of your illegal taxi. Presumably to make it more difficult to count how many people are squeezed in. 10 to 12 is pretty average. It’s not clear if the very little boot has the luggage, or more people.

I am particularly delighted when there is a passenger standing on the running board and holding on to the roof, because they just couldn’t quite get one more inside, but a long distance lift was required.

I’m unsure how the insurance works in these scenarios. Or if the guy hanging on gets a discount on the fare.

I will be stopped at a road block because ‘it appears your reflector sticker may start to peel slightly soon’. This as a Honda Fit rolls by with a spanner as a steering wheel and 44 people crammed inside.

I had a Honda once and remember that it was quite expensive to service. Obviously I was doing it wrong. You know, with genuine parts and a registered mechanic.

Your mate next door can do wonders with cable ties, sticky tape and whatever is lying around. Very economical.

This relationship is over

My brother actually has hair, and at one stage kept his hair very long.

My sister-in-law met him at this long haired stage, so she’s obviously a keeper.

He now chooses to keep his hair very short and diligently shaves it himself once a week with some fancy clippers he has.

He offered to get my lovely man same fancy clipper, but my lovely man quite enjoys being pampered by the cuties that come around periodically in Beira and Harare to groom us.

Not to be confused with the groomers that come around periodically to clip my Bella and Alfie.

Prior to my brother getting his fancy clippers, and possibly the reason for him getting the fancy clippers…. He was somewhere (his lovely wife in tow), getting a haircut.

The fellow apparently asked him if he would like his ear hair taken care of (yes, he is also at that age). Unwittingly, my brother agreed.

Before he knew it, he had wax inserted into his ear canal and an ear bud sticking out of each ear.

My sister-in-law’s only regret was not having a camera.

At this point, my brother thought this was his biggest problem. Not so, that stuff was then pulled out.

Spontaneous tears.

Would you like me, the fellow asked, to do your nose hairs?

This relationship, my brother replied, ends here.

Aaaah, Africa…

My brother and sister-in-law are visiting my lovely man and I from the States. We are spending some time together in Zimbabwe.

My brother has not been back to Zimbabwe for 40 years. His lovely wife has never been to Zimbabwe.

Last week we were in Victoria Falls. What a place. Nothing is too much trouble for the people there. The whole town and surroundings are geared to make your experience exceptional. And it was.

And of course, there is the falls, and the river. The Zambezi. Touches your soul the Zambezi.

In case you didn’t know…

“The Zambezi River is the fourth-longest river in Africa, the longest east-flowing river in Africa and the largest flowing into the Indian Ocean from Africa.”

And now we have a few days in Kariba. Another special place. Again….. the Zambezi…. this time with a lake. Hot in Kariba. Even at this time of the year, the start of summer.

When you spend time in places like this, you realise again how very, very hard it is to leave Africa. How much there is to appreciate.

And here I am. With people I not only love, but I really like.

My cup people, runneth over.

Oops, I didn’t hear you

My lovely man can’t hear when I let off a quietish fart.

This has been a fairly liberating revalation.

There are few advantages to having a hard of hearing lovely man. This has to be the biggest.

I’m not a fan of farting. You know, us ladies just don’t. Or we don’t admit to it. And I really don’t appreciate it when others fart near me.

But the truth is we all break wind. Apparently 10 to 20 times a day.

And then… You know, he feeds me lentils regularly. It’s not easy people.

So, I’ve become a bit too casual about the whole thing.

As it turns out, my sister-in-law is not hard of hearing.

Yes, my suitcase is ready

My brother and sister in law are visiting from the States for a bit. Aren’t I the luckiest?

So we are away for a few days.

Does your lovely man hover around you as soon as you start packing, requesting if he can close up the suitcase yet?

Now that we are here he is watching me eye the lovely towels, gowns and pillows. Hotels always have great pillows don’t they?

Don’t you dare take anything he warned me, we know these people. They’ll come and find their stuff at our house and then I’ll never be invited to play golf with them again.

What a killjoy.

Also, my little panties I am washing in the shower (as we do, tell me I’m not alone here), are disappearing. Any suggestions on how to broach this at reception?

Is it a bird…..

We flew recently. Yes, like on a plane.

It was a fairly early morning flight, so I was hoping for a nice fresh bacon and egg roll.

Expectations, they’ll keep you miserable.

We got a snack box.

Immediately my lovely man identified the snack box boxes as being potential rat box boxes. Once you are a pest control officer, it’s amazing how you see a rat box in everything.

Can you fit them in your bag he asked.

I actually have an enormous, very heavy handbag. And this, I have realised, is why.

Can you put this in your bag… Is the soundtrack to my life.

Nevertheless, I once again I realised how wonderfully balanced my lovely man and I are.

He didn’t fancy his energy bar, I took his for the team.

I didn’t want my apple juice, he drank both.

He didn’t fancy the biltong stick packet, I helped him out.

He didn’t think much of the little packet of cheddar biscuits…….

Yes, I too have realised I ate everything the revolting snack box offered. He’s hydrated, I’m a dried out prune.

What’s that on your face?

I am at the age of greying hair. I am uncertain as to how grey I am, as I regularly colour my hair.

A number of friends have taken the bold step of allowing the grey, and they all look fantastic. I am not yet this courageous. It’s a bit of a process I believe. My hair grows like a weed and I have a lot of it, so I have to colour regularly. Box colour, full disclosure, I am not glam.

The problem with colour is it gets on your face. You have to be quite diligent about wiping it off carefully when you first apply the colour. Or it stains, of course, in places you don’t want to colour.

Today I failed.

It’s easier to get colour off your skin (it’s not built to colour your skin I guess), but I have a fluffy face. I am grateful, as I age, that unlike my lovely man, my ear and nose hair are not aggressively increasing (what’s with that anyway? Why?). But, my already fluffy face is coming out in force.

I’m like a little Alpaca. A chubby one.

Hair, is what hair colour is meant to colour as it turns out.

So, now I have red sideburns. Mutton chops really.

Best displayed in the sunshine.

The bathroom is sunny. My lovely man walked in and said ‘How’s your hair looking….. oh…. can you shave those?’

I’m quite certain that shaving my face will quickly become a slippery slope.

We have coffee in a bit with friends. In a garden setting. It’s a gorgeous sunny day.

My lovely man never has to worry about me betraying him, nobody else would want me.

It’s a habit

Forming habits are hard. Actually, that’s not true. Bad habits are very easy, it’s the good ones that are hard.

We all pretty much know what we should do don’t we… get enough sleep; don’t drink, or at least don’t drink too much; don’t overeat; stretch; get some exercise; meditate; slow down; manage your stress; get a balance; have friends; love your family if you are lucky enough to have one…. and of course, get an animal (or two) to love and look after!

Doing all of this not so easy. Lots of excuses really. Life is busy!

Of course there is a lot of talk about intermittent fasting. So, I researched it a bit. Bless Google!

How often should one fast I asked. Every day is best I was advised.

Every day? What, until you die? Skinny and gorgeous is good to no-one dead. I did actually read that someone fasted for 100 days and survived. I could probably last longer.

Further research revealed that one should fast for 16 hours each day.

Once again…. what?

But actually, this is possible of course. My lovely man’s doctor (who is fit and healthy – one doesn’t want a fat, unhealthy doctor giving you diet advice really), advised us that cutting out carbs and sugar and eating ONCE a day is the way to go.

Of course fasting for 16 hours of the day means that one only ingests liquid in that time. No caffeine, no calories. Not so much fun liquids like black tea and lemon water are allowed.

So, if one doesn’t eat between the hours of 8pm and 12pm, for instance, that’s 16 hours.

Isn’t that doable?

What my research did not advise, and I can see that I am going to have to figure this out for myself, is how much planning one has to do to eat solidly for the 8 hours you have left.

Just drive!

I follow a few touristy Facebook pages that give travelers advice. Particularly between South Africa and Mozambique. They are not very informative about travel between Zimbabwe and Mozambique, or Zimbabwe and South Africa, but perhaps I am on the wrong pages.

I absolutely LOVE these pages. Because they are a scream. I’m quite sure that some of the questions are written to amuse us all.

We have the standard queries….

  1. How quickly can I down a tipo tinto once I leave the border into Mozambique? And will there be cold raspberry sparletta available or must we bring our own.
  2. I know there is a foot and mouth problem and meat from SA is not allowed, but is it fine if we vacuum pack it?
  3. Is there food in Mozambique, or must we bring our own?
  4. Is it legal for me to trail my boat, caravan and quad bikes on ONE registration number?
  5. I know it is not advisable to drive at night in Mozambique. We plan to arrive at 11pm, will it be night in Mozambique?
  6. I know we must all wear our seat belts in the car, but is it fine to strap extra passengers to the roof rack. (This, of course, IS fine in most parts of Africa).

The questions asking people to give them accurate information based on travel estimations are fabulous. And it is particularly heartwarming how many readers try to calculate and assist. Bless them.

For example..

  1. If I leave Swakopmund at 03h00, drive for three days, have fourteen bathroom breaks, perhaps stop for lunch, maybe visit Tanie Madelein, will I arrive at the (unnamed) border before it closes?

And my personal best, the surname query (I always feel inclined to reply on these ones, because I have a bit of experience).

  1. My son’s passport has arrived and not only is my three time previously married surname incorrectly in his passport as his mother, they have named my lover as his father instead of my husband. Will this be a problem at the border?
  2. My ID, passport, credit card, birth certificate, organ donor card AND library card are ALL in different surnames, will this be a problem at the border.

On this last one, I am qualified to answer. Yes.

Have another lizard

We went to a friend’s house for lunch. There may have been wine and strawberries. Certainly there was great food, fantastic company and a good number of giggles.

There were also dogs. Beautiful German Shephard dogs. My lovely mans favourite TV programme is Hudson & Rex. We love Rex. But, that is for another time.

I love dogs. But, truth be told, I am a little nervous of big dogs. Nevertheless, we were oohing and aahing over these gorgeous pups. There was a comment that one of them was quite lean. Our lovely host commented that she was really active, but ate very well, including lizards she caught.

Well, I said, maybe that’s why she’s lean, I should maybe eat some.

Why? One of the guests asked.

Bless her I thought, she wants to give me a compliment that I CERTAINLY don’t need to lose weight, that I’m fabulous.

I need to lose a bit of weight I admitted modestly.

Yes, yes, she said, but why lizards?