As I was parting the sitting-room curtains I spied two backpackers hanging onto the front gate.
They were also trying to balance vuvuzelas on their heads while falling over each other to ring the door bell.
I made my way out, and was greeted with:
BP1: "Good morning, Ma'am. And, how are you, this fine morning?"
This is accompanied with an exaggerated bow, nearly knocking BP2 off his feet.
BP2: "Ow, Henry, behave. Ma'am, shit your shebeens are awesome! What do they put into the mampoer? It has the kick of a mule?"
BP1: "That's moonshine right? The best we've ever tasted. And, we've been all over."
Me: "Well, according to extensive research, it's a concoction brewed with a dollop of dieseline. Proudly South African."
They look at each other and convulse with laughter.
BP1: "Hell, no wonder we're on fire!"
BP2: Ma'am, we've being pressing doorbells all over the place since 4am. Right, Henry? And the people are so rude!"
BP1: "Yes one guy said he would kick our asses all the way to Soccer City if we didn't shut up. And, to take those ridiculous things off our heads."
BP2: "And others refused to open up. Their mobiles were on voicemail. What good is that?"
BP1: "Please Ma'am we just need to sleep. We'll be quiet, I promise, we'll tiptoe."
How could I refuse, considering the Bokke beat Wales yesterday, by one point?
God Bless South Africa.