When I Retire

When I retire, I will study for a Dipl.Psychology 101, and convince you, beyond a reasonable doubt, that the world, and all those in it, have gone mad.

Or, will this just be me?

I received a speaker 'phone call, from two ladies, who I will name, Flora and Dora.

F: "On your website, we see that you have a twin room, with a shared bathroom."

D: "Do you have a twin room with a private bathroom?"

F: "Ok, we will book a twin room, on condition, that there are no other guests tonight. We do not like backpackers."

D: "They make too much noise."

As it so happened, TB had six, but Flora and Dora arrived anyway.

F: "We normally stay in 5* hotels, but I guess this is ok, hey, Dora."

D: "Do you mind, if we use the kitchen, to make a cup of decaf? We won't use your coffee."

F: (bellowing down the passage) "Dora, where is your tin of decaf?"

As the evening wore on, the backpackers, appointed a leader, to enquire as to whether, I could ask the two ladies, to quieten down, as they were making too much noise.

The following morning, Flora and Dora, while enjoying their decaf, in the front garden, the bleary-eyed backpackers, packed their camper van, and left.

A black gentleman, then, packed his car, and said goodbye to Flora and Dora.

D: "Are you a taxi driver?"

F: "No? We thought, you were the driver for the backpackers."

Flora and Dora, then decide to allocate an hour for breakfast.

D: "Do we absolutely, definitely, have to leave by 10? Sure. Sure."

F: "Could we have, at least, another 15 minutes, please? You can clean around us. We won't bother you at all."

Five minutes later, and more...

D: "You may clean the breakfast table now."

F: "Do you have a scale to weigh our luggage?"

D: "Your wi-fi isn't working."

F: "I am from Holland, but I flew in on Air France. Do you know why this is?"

D: "Do you know today's temperature, and tomorrow's?

F: "Do you have a refuse bag?"

D: "We are still hungry. We are used to more substantial breakfasts. Could you fry us eggs and bacon?"

F: "We will also have a last cup of decaf. We can't drink your coffee. We also need the milk boiled."

D: "Do you polish your floors regularly? I can recommend something."

F: "Do you have an iron? We are off to a business meeting."

D: "I nearly forgot. I will be leaving a bag of soil, for your garden. It will do it a world of good. We asked for a soil sample, in Mozambique, and the guy gave us a whole bag."

As, I am opening the gate,

F: "It is still two hours before our meeting. We are thinking of coming back. Could we have a quick look around?"

Now, where did I leave my Calmettes?

Fly and Stay in SA

A first class traveller, (the upgrade from chicken or beef) on a SAA flight, asked the hostess:

"Tell me, my dear, how is the duck?"

After some thought, this was the reply:

"She is just like the chicken, but she can swim."

Another story doing the rounds, is an SAA pilot, minutes before landing:

"Welcome to South Africa. The safe part of your journey is now over!"

Now, to the serious stuff.

We, in the backpacking business, contact hostelowners, from all over South Africa:

"Hi. Good Day, nice/lousy weather we're having. How's it there? Do you have space for ... , who needs a bed etc?"

I received such a call from Tobi, via Cape Town, for a 'lovely couple' - (we all need those) for the following night, and, on their return from Kruger, for another night.

Days and dates were then confirmed by e-mail.

Two, mornings ago, checking my mail, I received an attachment from Tobi.

AN INVOICE FOR COMMISSION!!!

As this was never mentioned, I let her have it.

As TB's swimming pool has sprung a leak or three, I do not need this...

Across the street from us, a rather large sign has also sprung up.

REZONED FOR A HOTEL.

So, that will be three in a row.

The grounds, and surrounding wall, of Terrylin Backpackers Hostel, will, no doubt, now need additional 'spit and polish.'

Curry. Worry. And Hurry

Yesterday, a voice boomed from TB's entrance:

"I am Dr Deviharin from Dehli. I am a cardiologist in private practice."

I scuttle from reception:

"Good day. Welcome to Terr..."

"I would like to do a tour of Sun City. (Two hours drive, just there). A tour of Johannesburg and Soweto. (Four hours). The Apartheid Museum (30 minutes drive and maybe three hours sightseeing). And, I need to be back here, at 6, for my whiskey. How much will this cost?"

And, the taxi driver was still busy removing the luggage from the boot.

A cardiologist. Very Good. For my impending heart attack.

"Dr," say I, "All this will not be possible in one afternoon!"

I organised the Johannesburg/Soweto tour, while Dr Deviharin, showered.

Later. "Do you know the three things that can bring on a heart attack?"

I have a vague idea, but do tell...

"Curry. Worry. And Hurry."

Which brings me, to many South Africans, who do not have medical insurance. For a hefty monthly premium, this is automatic entry, to our private hospitals. If you having a heart attack, say, the first question, is always:

"Do you have medical insurance?"

If not, this is, a worry, considering the state of some of our state hospitals.

However, I have heard mumblings about an after hours emergency fee, at our private casualties. As if they don't charge enough. Should you be admitted to casualty after 5pm, which most patients do, you pay an additional R200, which most medical insurance companies, do not cover, unless you are admitted to hospital. Of course. But, they are not shy to boast about their billions in reserve.

Now, as most emergencies happen after hours, here is my ten cents worth.

Should a gun be held to your skull, your spouse is battering you, a rapist is unbuttoning his pants, or your child is choking, has swallowed paint thinners, or puts his hands on a bunsen flame, in order to cut costs, say:

"Could you do this during office hours?"

I put this to a customer services clerk at our local private hospital, and one at a health insurance conglomerate, and they agreed.

Yes, this will be cheaper, during the day, public holidays and Sunday's excluded.

Am I the only one who feels this way?

Please comment...

Oh, No, Not Again!

Over the past Easter weekend, the Campbell family visited their Italian families, to savour a variety of pasta dishes - pasta with seafood, pasta with chicken, pasta with vegetables, pasta with salads; actually, any pasta you please.

The last port of call, was Nonna, who deposited a huge bowl of pasta, on the table.

Blake, throwing up his arms in despair, and covering his eyes, with his hands, said:

"Oh, no, Nonna, not pasta again!"

We all love this little boy, and I am reminded of Grand-parents day at Blake's pre-school.

Nonna and Guppy were sitting side-by-side, when Blake, stood between us, and threw his arms around us, saying, very solemnly:

"I love you two times."

Every pre-school morning, there is a chorus of: "Bye-bye sweetheart." "I'll see you later." "Love you lots", and the little uns, hug and kiss their parents, before hopping and skipping, to their classrooms.

And, this is Blake:

"Bye, bye, Mommy, see you later..."

Misty: "I want to walk, with you, to your classroom."

Blake: "Oh, No, Mommy! Not Again!!"

That same afternoon, Misty arrived, and the new teacher, wearily, exclaimed:

"Thank goodness! Saved by the bell!!"

There stood Blake with his buddy, in the corner, pointing at each other, and rubbing their bottoms.

Misty: "What happened, Blake?"

Blake: "I won't talk about it."

At home, Blake: "Mommy, if I am naughty, you must smack me on my bottom, OK."

Misty: "No, I won't smack you. You must smack your own bottom."

Blake, ponders this, bends over, lifts his arm, and....

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Oh, No, Not Again...

Save the Rhino, and All of Us

Have you ever been having a lively gaggle with a group, say, over the office water cooler or, at a party, when some nutter who will steer any topic to his obsession?

I picture you nodding.

I believe that if you are ranting on, and you notice eyes glazing over, and recipients appearing bored out of their skulls, press pause, and shut it.

The other night, TB had a couple who had been travelling for two years. Now, that interests me, even their recovery from Dehli Belly. But, there was also Ralf.

Now, Ralf's obsession is Saving the Rhino, notably the culling of their horns. We all agreed that this was barbaric, to say the least. After fifteen minutes, with the other guests nodding off, in an endeavour to be polite, I mentioned that I had watched a doccie on the subject.

As Ralf shifted and zoned in on silly me, and the guests left the room, I was subjected to another hour on the topic. Even when I was showing other guests the way, Ralf continued with a theatrical rendering of the sound of adult rhinos, and then that of their babies. Even, nearly three year old Blake, would have been baffled.

The new guests, were subjected to questions of: "Are their tigers in Africa?" and "Do you know what a warthog is?", and all they wanted to do was order a pizza.

After telling Ralf, that I needed to sleep, and he asking why, then telling me that we would continue the conversation (?) in the morning.

Now, I had to set the alarm for 4h30, for a 5am flight, and Ralf hearing the rustling, bounded out of bed, nearly knocking us all over, and handing out magazines, yes, about the Plight of the Rhino.

Ralf had a 17h00 flight, and I had to strictly enforce the 10h00 check-out, to save my sanity. As he was walking through the gateway, the animal sounds reached fever pitch.

I slept the entire afternoon, and was awakened to a family of four, from Tazmania, who felt they were being ignored, when, livewires, arrived at the same time, full of FAQ's.

Settled, on blankets, in the garden, they lit up. With the wind billowing, Dad, of the Family, strolled outside, and frantically returned:

"Joy, Joy, I smell smoke. Is there a bush fire nearby?"

Steven, the following morning, deposited the Family, outside the Car Rental Hall. A place of chaos - hooting taxi's, with drivers and people attempting to out-shout the rest.

Dad asked, innocently: "Are they all Americans?"

Keeping You Posted

It's Official! According to Kempton Park's weekly rag, our local Council, supplies 'clean and safe tap water.'

One less question to answer, think I, and duly make copies to paste all over TB, above each basin, and in the rooms.

1. "I have never seen notices like this. Are you sure, sure, the water is safe to drink?"

2. Official, overnight, booking, and a message - We only want to spend a few hours at your place. Would you charge by the hour?.

3. "We are returning next week. Could we take your hairdryer, and bring it back?"

4. Chi, from China: "I am sorry. I cannot sleep in the same room as a Jap! They have being trying to steal our land for over 20 years. And, we must protect what is ours!!"

5. Breakfast, with five minutes to spare, before the taxi arrives, "Do you have any eggs?"

(No, my dear. Not at my age.)

6. 10 minutes after midnight: "Would you please make us a cup of tea? And biscuits would be nice. We are soooo tired. Also, your breakfast. We need to leave at 5am on a Kruger Tour. Could you tell us how to get there? The shortest distance. How far is it from here? About breakfast. We cannot eat so early. Would you mind preparing us a picnic hamper? No meat. Just some snacks, you know. And juices. And...."

(There are 12 of them.)

7. Back to our local Council. Per annum, we receive a refuse removal calendar. Rhodesfield, as with the other neighbourhoods is colour coded. Ours is green, on a Wednesday. Over the past three weeks, the removers, have hooted and hollered on a Thursday. The previous nights, the cats and dogs, have had their own bun fights, ripping refuse, all asunder.

Last week, there is the garbage van, driving past TB.

"Wait, wait! Stop, stop!!, bellow I," flinging bags onto the pavement. "What is your problem? Is today, Wednesday or Thursday?"

"After numerous complaints, Marram, we are now back on track. Do you have R10 for me?"

"Sure," say I. "Just e-mail me your banking details."

Now, a progress report about Blake.

Blake, now a big boy, and has graduated from the potty to the loo, with minimal, minor mishaps.

The other morning, Blake climbs into the parental bed, and Nick says: "Come on, my boy. You must go and wee.."

Blake obliges, with one request. "Please bring my potty, and Sid, Daddy."

Sid is held over the potty.

"Are you finished now, Blake?"

"Yes, Daddy. But, please leave Sid, on the potty. He is still busy making a poo...

Winter

During the winter months, in 2010, South Africa hosted the Fifa World Cup.

As the bookings poured into Terrylin Backpackers Hostel, in an effort to hone my PR skills, I mailed all and sundry, replying to their questions of - 'What Should I Bring?'

'Warm, winter clothing - it will be very cold here,' write I.

The e-mails became a flood - 'No, No, you needn't worry, we are from Canada, England etc.' We know what cold is, freezing in fact' ' Where I come from, the temperatures reach -30.'

Ok - all sorted then.

On the alloted nights, the soccer suppporters arrive, ringing the intercom in a frenzy:

"Open up, open up! We are freezing out here." "Only death could warm us up." " I understood that this was Sunny South Africa. I read it on Google."

The Duracell Bunnies enter, resembling shivering Siberians, clad in vests, shorts and slops.

Now, Steven, my partner, in stress, and I, were fully prepared to taking responsibility for the weather.

Let me elaborate.

Steven hates Winter. Full Stop. I accept, that it will be here once a year.

Sullen Steven, will enquire, in a mild, Fall day: "Why is it so cold? Don't you ever get cold?" (And, on and on and on...)

"When these people arrive next month, they will moan, and complain, and nag, and go elsewhere!"

Steven then, after some thought, hurtles to the hardware store, and returns, followed, by a delivery van.

Two men, amid much cussing, erect the largest gas heater, I have ever seen, in the living room. It touches the ceiling!

I concur with the men, that this is an outdoor heater, designed for those daft souls, who barbeque in the snow.

Steven, turns on the heater. Within minutes, TB is a furnace.

"Please return that!" I implore. "I feel as though I am going through the Change."

Naturally, Steven, nearly takes the chair with him, as he falls out of it, laughing.

Men...