Sunday, 26 January 2014

Small Game Hunting

You may envy me this:

A balmy 24 C thanks to the gentle breeze courtesy of the Indian Ocean that you see in the background there. The town between me and same body of water, is Port Alfred.

We came here three years ago with Hannah and Luke, and I took some stunning pictures of a perfect beach, which I subsequently lost to a fumble with the card-thing. So we had to come back. This time the card is doing fine, but the battery is flat and the cheap-from-China recharger won't. No use trying to off-load blame, it's all down to me. At least this time I have back up, thank you Apple! 

They say travel broadens the mind, but mine being quite broad enough, I leave to it's own devices, and am busy broadening my backside. The 'Bar One Chocolate Cake (and ice-cream) ' at The Links restaurant last night bearing witness to my abandonment of self control. I have however, exercised pretty religiously for thirty minutes every day, including the hated water aerobics in the pool you see before you. Those who love me know I took up belly dancing (hip-drop, hip-drop) because I nearly died  of boredom with water aerobics. At least the form has redeemed itself today.

I have never seen myself as prey before, but last night I came under a determined attack by a killer. I have repeated, slightly shame-faced, I admit, the tale of how, when I was last here in the amazing Republic of South Africa, I convinced myself on returning home that I was incubating dengue fever (because all the symptoms on the internet fitted... ). In fact, I had the worse dose of good old-fashioned 'flu ever,  and am now first in line for the free jab come the season.

I am cautious. Not sufficiently so as to take the tablets and gain immunity, but enough to stay out of malarial areas, slather myself in Bushman Jungle Strength Bug Deterrent, and cover up in the evenings. However, I am still not comfortable in the presence of mozzies, so that menacing high-pitched whine  of the  marauding female at 11pm last night, had me up and armed with a towel in pursuit of her. All the thrills and spills of a regular hunt without leaving home.

Success came with a final foray at 11:45. A wily and worthy opponent hit the deck, stunned by an overarm  swipe from the left, to be finished off with a quick pinch between right thumb and forefinger: Classic  tactics.

My triumph over the species was short-lived. Nobody told me that mosquitoes can get you in the morning. And a revenge attack caught me off-guard at breakfast. I am awaiting developments.

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