Nice office building on Diagonal St, presumably by the Chicago School, I'll have to look it up when I get home. Oh hang on, I am at home.
Sunday, 20 June 2010
Around Central Johannesburg
At dusk everywhere just goes dead, presumably that's when it gets a bit more scary.
Around Central Johannesburg
This seems to be the main bus station, although it's the only time I ever saw any buses. God knows where they all go. The main means of public transport is the minibuses which clog up the slow lanes all over town
Around Central Johannesburg
Saturday, 19 June 2010
Soccer City, Ellis Park and Mandela-exceptionalism
Let’s compare the two football stadia in Johannesburg and see what they tell us about South Africa.
Soccer City is in the middle of a new exhibition space on a reclaimed site on the edge of town, it cannot be seen from the city or indeed from anywhere further than a mile away. Ellis Park is in the middle of an industrial area, or post industrial area with empty lots, workshops, motorway run-offs, warehouses and an atmosphere of decay and irreversible decline
From Soccer City you can see nothing but the inside of the stadium, it’s a cauldron of World Cup-ness, it contains only the best football and the neatly choreographed messages of the sponsors. It’s a World stadium’ it could be anywhere. From Ellis Park you can see the Johannesburg skyline, and glimpses of the world around, it’s firmly rooted in the city, it’s part of the fabric, the warp and weft of that part of the city. Even though they’ve paved or turfed over some parts to make it look nice for we visitors who like everything to look neat.
Soccer City is a perfect, architect designed shape, floating above the earth; it has no history, no past at all. It exists for the present; it speaks only of the future. Ellis Park has been built upon and re-developed messily over the years, and has a history of its own, it’s a place where nation-shaping events have taken place it’s a place where people have been, it lives in the memory here.
So Soccer City is the dream of a united South Africa, it’s a self contained bit of bling for the nation. It says 'If we can build something that looks this good, then surely we must be good too'. It’s a continuation of ‘Mandela-exceptionalism’. Mandela was a one off, a piece of magic that pulled the nation together. He’s never criticised and is uncriticisable, he looked good, he was good, he is still front page news here. And as he declines South Africa looks for something to replace him, to continue all that ‘Rainbow Nation’ fairytale stuff. And he’s not going to be replaced by building proper houses, or by providing healthcare and education for the kids here. What they want the feel good factor, the sense of unity, the sense that South Africa – and by extension Africa – is respected. They achieved this once through Mandela but now the only way is to ‘look good’ on the World stage. And this is nothing against the government – the people you meet here are immensely proud of the way they are staging this event and that people have come and seen and enjoyed their country.
So this means Soccer City. Uncriticisably beautiful, but hermetically-sealed, a mirage glowing in the dusk, with specially built TV studios at just the right angle to make it look its best for people watching on the telly.
Meanwhile around the old-fashioned brutalist architecture of at Ellis Park you can see the day-to-day South Afroca: (Cliché alert) grinding poverty, low expectations and a sense of wasted opportunity. There’s a frustration - surely there must be? - that all the shiny pockets of infrastructure don’t actually translate into progress that is fast enough. Mandela is beyond criticism, of course he is, but his legacy not only inspires the nation, it oppresses it too.
Soccer City is in the middle of a new exhibition space on a reclaimed site on the edge of town, it cannot be seen from the city or indeed from anywhere further than a mile away. Ellis Park is in the middle of an industrial area, or post industrial area with empty lots, workshops, motorway run-offs, warehouses and an atmosphere of decay and irreversible decline
From Soccer City you can see nothing but the inside of the stadium, it’s a cauldron of World Cup-ness, it contains only the best football and the neatly choreographed messages of the sponsors. It’s a World stadium’ it could be anywhere. From Ellis Park you can see the Johannesburg skyline, and glimpses of the world around, it’s firmly rooted in the city, it’s part of the fabric, the warp and weft of that part of the city. Even though they’ve paved or turfed over some parts to make it look nice for we visitors who like everything to look neat.
Soccer City is a perfect, architect designed shape, floating above the earth; it has no history, no past at all. It exists for the present; it speaks only of the future. Ellis Park has been built upon and re-developed messily over the years, and has a history of its own, it’s a place where nation-shaping events have taken place it’s a place where people have been, it lives in the memory here.
So Soccer City is the dream of a united South Africa, it’s a self contained bit of bling for the nation. It says 'If we can build something that looks this good, then surely we must be good too'. It’s a continuation of ‘Mandela-exceptionalism’. Mandela was a one off, a piece of magic that pulled the nation together. He’s never criticised and is uncriticisable, he looked good, he was good, he is still front page news here. And as he declines South Africa looks for something to replace him, to continue all that ‘Rainbow Nation’ fairytale stuff. And he’s not going to be replaced by building proper houses, or by providing healthcare and education for the kids here. What they want the feel good factor, the sense of unity, the sense that South Africa – and by extension Africa – is respected. They achieved this once through Mandela but now the only way is to ‘look good’ on the World stage. And this is nothing against the government – the people you meet here are immensely proud of the way they are staging this event and that people have come and seen and enjoyed their country.
So this means Soccer City. Uncriticisably beautiful, but hermetically-sealed, a mirage glowing in the dusk, with specially built TV studios at just the right angle to make it look its best for people watching on the telly.
Meanwhile around the old-fashioned brutalist architecture of at Ellis Park you can see the day-to-day South Afroca: (Cliché alert) grinding poverty, low expectations and a sense of wasted opportunity. There’s a frustration - surely there must be? - that all the shiny pockets of infrastructure don’t actually translate into progress that is fast enough. Mandela is beyond criticism, of course he is, but his legacy not only inspires the nation, it oppresses it too.
And the fans are rubbish too
Earlier in the day things were just as bad. Americans in large groups, they are just not very pleasant are they? Let’s think of a few adjectives. Fat. Loud. Drunk. Charmless. Dressed up in Uncle Sam outfits. I don’t know, maybe it was fifth game ennui, but I was pretty fed up with them. I was in similar spot to where I was for the Brazil game, among a nutty bunch who were trying to attract the cameras. There were Slovenians there as well, and at a few points we had to get the police in to get everyone sitting down in the right spots. But even then as you know Americans have to be fed every ten minutes so they keep bodging past you. Then the Ice Cream Sellers and progarmme sellers come down the aisle and block the view. These were not people who were going to sit and read the programme when they could be standing on seats shouting 'Flip you Ref!, Flip you Ref!' or something similar.
So I switched on tunnel vision to watch the game, which turned out to be excellent. Two sides set up in old fashioned 4-4-2; it was like watching League 2. The previews said this would be a cagey affair dominated by defences but not a bit of it, both teams were attack minded and had easily sliced through defences. Slovenia scored two first half goals so that was great, shut up the US contingent for a bit. But then in the second half the US came back which kept my lot on their feet giving it the old “U! –S! – A!” the whole time. Even worse, US scored a winner and everyone went completely mad, I was crushed. But then so were the US as play started with a goal kick and the goal was disallowed. Hooray!
I made a speedier than usual exit, trying to get away from the US mob, and miraculously the car was still where I’d left it, it remained only for me to give a guy 5 rand to see me out of my spot. If only it was that easy in Spratt Hall Rd.
So I switched on tunnel vision to watch the game, which turned out to be excellent. Two sides set up in old fashioned 4-4-2; it was like watching League 2. The previews said this would be a cagey affair dominated by defences but not a bit of it, both teams were attack minded and had easily sliced through defences. Slovenia scored two first half goals so that was great, shut up the US contingent for a bit. But then in the second half the US came back which kept my lot on their feet giving it the old “U! –S! – A!” the whole time. Even worse, US scored a winner and everyone went completely mad, I was crushed. But then so were the US as play started with a goal kick and the goal was disallowed. Hooray!
I made a speedier than usual exit, trying to get away from the US mob, and miraculously the car was still where I’d left it, it remained only for me to give a guy 5 rand to see me out of my spot. If only it was that easy in Spratt Hall Rd.
OK, I was wrong, football's rubbish
So I thought that rather than watch England here in my cosy room or at Dros's steak bar, I would go and sample the fun and excitement of the Real Africa at the Fan Fest in Soweto. Loads of poor Africans celebrating their nationhood under the cold African moon. Only football can bring these people out to celebrate together. And the Brits will gather to cheer on their heroes together. The football family coming together..
Nope.
Elkah Stadium turns out to be a big field, with a few tents from the sponsors, about a couple of hundred stewards, volunteers, police and (including me) no less than three England fans. But to be fair the screen was pretty good. Even with my many layers it was freezing cold (that’s what put off the Sowetans apparently). Luckily beverages were available so I drowned my sorrows in a couple of ice cool Cokes.
And if that wasn’t one of the most dismal England performances in living memory.... oh never mind, let’s just it leave it there...
Nope.
Elkah Stadium turns out to be a big field, with a few tents from the sponsors, about a couple of hundred stewards, volunteers, police and (including me) no less than three England fans. But to be fair the screen was pretty good. Even with my many layers it was freezing cold (that’s what put off the Sowetans apparently). Luckily beverages were available so I drowned my sorrows in a couple of ice cool Cokes.
And if that wasn’t one of the most dismal England performances in living memory.... oh never mind, let’s just it leave it there...
Friday, 18 June 2010
Where I parked the car. no 5
On a side road off to the right. Not the sort of place you'd be wanting to hang around much.
Why the World Cup is brilliant, why Simon Barnes is wrong
Simon Barnes is the Times writer whose view is that Sport works precisely because it is trivial, and because it doesn’t matter. Because it is trivial it allows us to pretend it is important, as a kind of shared conspiracy . We invest emotion into watching sport that can never be expressed in the unresolved, ongoing business of life. So we conspire between ourselves to pretend it’s important, even though we all know it isn’t. That’s why it jars so much when Dennis Wise takes his baby up when he gets the FA Cup, or when Avram Grant kneels on the pitch on Holocaust Day – as soon as ‘real life’ intrudes on the scene the spell is broken. The fun is all in the pretence.
Here at the World Cup the opposite is true. There’s a possibility that the World Cup actually might be important. Heads of State turn up, billions of rand are spent , laws are changed, and (cliché alert) kids go hungry as their parents buy them an official Adidas shirt . On the radio the other day they broadcast an hour long speech by the President on the anniversary of the Soweto riots and he was drawing a direct line between those events and the World Cup today.
So because it’s important everyone acts the goat. You see people everywhere here behaving stupidly, I don’t need to give examples, do I? Face painting, daft outfits, Mexican waves after five minutes, everyone spending far too much money on tat. And jumping up and down a lot.
In fact come to think of it all the things I normally hate: people treating football as a lifestyle choice, or pretending they care more than they actually do (Glazers Out!), or pretending that things like ‘goal celebrations’ are an important part of football (Coke), girls being interested in football, people turning up at games and not being interested in who’s playing. People observing events through their camera lens, people dressing up and acting up for the cameras. Companies using football to ingratiate themselves. Or indeed whole nations using football to promote a dream of unity (this nation here, for example).
Hang on, where was I? Yes, all those things I usually hate I think are great here. Why not have people who are not interested in football go to football matches every once in a while, why not have Coke bashing out a catchy tune every now and then, or the mobile company having kids jumping up and down on a stand at the stadium, why not have World Cup specials in every shop. Do you know, I even like the Mexican waves.
Because every four years football is important, so why not celebrate that by acting like it isn’t?
Here at the World Cup the opposite is true. There’s a possibility that the World Cup actually might be important. Heads of State turn up, billions of rand are spent , laws are changed, and (cliché alert) kids go hungry as their parents buy them an official Adidas shirt . On the radio the other day they broadcast an hour long speech by the President on the anniversary of the Soweto riots and he was drawing a direct line between those events and the World Cup today.
So because it’s important everyone acts the goat. You see people everywhere here behaving stupidly, I don’t need to give examples, do I? Face painting, daft outfits, Mexican waves after five minutes, everyone spending far too much money on tat. And jumping up and down a lot.
In fact come to think of it all the things I normally hate: people treating football as a lifestyle choice, or pretending they care more than they actually do (Glazers Out!), or pretending that things like ‘goal celebrations’ are an important part of football (Coke), girls being interested in football, people turning up at games and not being interested in who’s playing. People observing events through their camera lens, people dressing up and acting up for the cameras. Companies using football to ingratiate themselves. Or indeed whole nations using football to promote a dream of unity (this nation here, for example).
Hang on, where was I? Yes, all those things I usually hate I think are great here. Why not have people who are not interested in football go to football matches every once in a while, why not have Coke bashing out a catchy tune every now and then, or the mobile company having kids jumping up and down on a stand at the stadium, why not have World Cup specials in every shop. Do you know, I even like the Mexican waves.
Because every four years football is important, so why not celebrate that by acting like it isn’t?
Tasty babe update
The story about these 'ambush marketing' girls is still in the papers here, which is as good an excuse as any to add another photo.
Around Melville: 7th St
I watched France's woeful performance against the Mexicans here last night. My choice of Mexican Pizza obviously did the trick. At the restaurant next door on the right the speciality today is 'Squidheads and Giblets' (I have not made this up) 
Around Melville: Armed Response
Every house has one of these on it. At the shops this morning there was a bloke with a machine gun patrolling the car park. 
Around Melville: Dros Steakhouse
Watched Bafana Bafana's woeful performance against the Uruguayans here. There's a considerable backlash against the team here, they are accused of not trying hard enough. I reality of course they are just not good enough and have never claimed to be.
Around Melville: 3rd St
Modern Art and the vuvuzela drone (part 2)
You know that John Cage piece, often cited, never actually performed, the one that is four and a half minutes of silence? Well that’s what the vuvuzela drone is. It’s that sense of anticipation, of something about to happen, the feeling that we are just on the point of breaking into something but we never quite get there.
The vuvuzelists try, they try very hard. They try to set up rhythms which sound a bit like ‘Da-dum-Da – DA!’ which might work for a bit till someone modulates it into ‘Da-dum-Da - D-DA!’ There was a lovely moment at the Brazil game where for a moment two different stands at either side of the pitch were momentarily calling to each other like this. But then the patterns will be lost as other notes take over and the individual gets lost in the chaos. (Ain’t that just like life?)
And this sense of ‘anticipation’ is of course very ‘football’. Watching football you are always on the verge of seeing something brilliant, something just-so-right, but it hardly ever happens. (Of course I’m talking as a Birmingham fan here) Carlos Alberto’s goal in the final, Shearer’s 4th goal against the Dutch – moments that are just so beautifully satisfying. Maicon’s goal the other night: Bang! Straight in the net, nowhere else it could have gone, absolutely beautiful. (Pele’s point about the beautiful game, of course.) It’s at these these moments the drone falls momentarily silent, for once it has no purpose, no place to go, it has succeeded in all its worried anticipation. That’s the wonderful thing about the vuvuzela drone: there’s never a climax, no crescendo, no sense of resolution like in your ‘proper’ music, instead there is merely a moment of silence. How just-so-cool, how neatly paradoxical is that? But it’s just a moment. As in life, the worry starts again, the wail starts again and it starts immediately.
O yes, you can have your crochets and your minims and your descending fifths, all that good stuff. But I remember the seventies with 20 minute guitar solos, Tangerine Dream and ‘modern’ music on Radio Three. That’s the tradition of the drone. It’s new - it is has to be new beacause it is instantly and constantly disposed of. Thousands of unrelated players create it but no-one knows where it comes from, no-one knows or can predict where it goes to. It is the stuff of life. It’s no less and no more than a spontaneous, site-specific, democratising, sound installation.
The vuvuzelists try, they try very hard. They try to set up rhythms which sound a bit like ‘Da-dum-Da – DA!’ which might work for a bit till someone modulates it into ‘Da-dum-Da - D-DA!’ There was a lovely moment at the Brazil game where for a moment two different stands at either side of the pitch were momentarily calling to each other like this. But then the patterns will be lost as other notes take over and the individual gets lost in the chaos. (Ain’t that just like life?)
And this sense of ‘anticipation’ is of course very ‘football’. Watching football you are always on the verge of seeing something brilliant, something just-so-right, but it hardly ever happens. (Of course I’m talking as a Birmingham fan here) Carlos Alberto’s goal in the final, Shearer’s 4th goal against the Dutch – moments that are just so beautifully satisfying. Maicon’s goal the other night: Bang! Straight in the net, nowhere else it could have gone, absolutely beautiful. (Pele’s point about the beautiful game, of course.) It’s at these these moments the drone falls momentarily silent, for once it has no purpose, no place to go, it has succeeded in all its worried anticipation. That’s the wonderful thing about the vuvuzela drone: there’s never a climax, no crescendo, no sense of resolution like in your ‘proper’ music, instead there is merely a moment of silence. How just-so-cool, how neatly paradoxical is that? But it’s just a moment. As in life, the worry starts again, the wail starts again and it starts immediately.
O yes, you can have your crochets and your minims and your descending fifths, all that good stuff. But I remember the seventies with 20 minute guitar solos, Tangerine Dream and ‘modern’ music on Radio Three. That’s the tradition of the drone. It’s new - it is has to be new beacause it is instantly and constantly disposed of. Thousands of unrelated players create it but no-one knows where it comes from, no-one knows or can predict where it goes to. It is the stuff of life. It’s no less and no more than a spontaneous, site-specific, democratising, sound installation.
Thursday, 17 June 2010
Thursday 17th June
We’ve had power cuts tonight, hence the late postings.
Much the best game so far today. Is that the considered view at home? Two teams at the top of their form, and some great goals. Argentina play three at the back, which always confuses me, and - typical of the manager - they are a bit disorganised, players wandering everywhere, though maybe that’s their version of Total Football, that’s what people will say if they win. The South Koreans meanwhile were better organised, with two holding midfielders (a formation I am now converted to..) and the side pivoting around (the Man U) Park.
As with the last game I saw here the first goal was an own goal, though here set up by a “teasing” Messi free kick. In the first half it was all Argentina, and in the first part of the second half all SK, but then Argentina started knocking them in and the Koreans ended up well-beaten.
I had some seats higher up than last time, so with a good view of the play, surrounded by what I think must have been a tour group of Argies, all in their no 10 shirts with their name on, so they looked a bit wally-ish, of course I didn’t tell them this. Little vuvuzela action with this lot, unfortunately, and the drone was a lot less than for the Brazilians: the Argies are more singers and chanters, and I think there were fewer Saffers than the other games I’ve been to. At the end the Argies all hang around their drummer and sing “Oya, Oya Argentina” or something over and over again.
I actually set off for the game at 10.15 today, given my worries about parking and my new worry about having double booked seats. So I was parked up in the Aeroton Car Park a full two hours before the game. At breakfast today I was holding a parking seminar for my fellow guests, passing on my parking tips and tricks. Two people were aiming to take in both Soccer City and the France game tonight up in Polokwane.
I might have left a bit too long for the crowds to die down after the match as the car park was almost deserted when I got back.
Much the best game so far today. Is that the considered view at home? Two teams at the top of their form, and some great goals. Argentina play three at the back, which always confuses me, and - typical of the manager - they are a bit disorganised, players wandering everywhere, though maybe that’s their version of Total Football, that’s what people will say if they win. The South Koreans meanwhile were better organised, with two holding midfielders (a formation I am now converted to..) and the side pivoting around (the Man U) Park.
As with the last game I saw here the first goal was an own goal, though here set up by a “teasing” Messi free kick. In the first half it was all Argentina, and in the first part of the second half all SK, but then Argentina started knocking them in and the Koreans ended up well-beaten.
I had some seats higher up than last time, so with a good view of the play, surrounded by what I think must have been a tour group of Argies, all in their no 10 shirts with their name on, so they looked a bit wally-ish, of course I didn’t tell them this. Little vuvuzela action with this lot, unfortunately, and the drone was a lot less than for the Brazilians: the Argies are more singers and chanters, and I think there were fewer Saffers than the other games I’ve been to. At the end the Argies all hang around their drummer and sing “Oya, Oya Argentina” or something over and over again.
I actually set off for the game at 10.15 today, given my worries about parking and my new worry about having double booked seats. So I was parked up in the Aeroton Car Park a full two hours before the game. At breakfast today I was holding a parking seminar for my fellow guests, passing on my parking tips and tricks. Two people were aiming to take in both Soccer City and the France game tonight up in Polokwane.
I might have left a bit too long for the crowds to die down after the match as the car park was almost deserted when I got back.
This is nice
At every game there's a section for local schoolkids who sit in neat rows in their school uniforms, and they go mad when the mascot goes by. In this case one of them seems to have smuggled in a Korea flag
Wednesday, 16 June 2010
It could be just like watching Brazil
Why don’t England play 4-2-3-1, with Carrick and Barry as the two, Lampard-Rooney-Gerrard as the three and Crouch as the striker?
Advantages:
1. There’s plenty of cover for our dodgy central defenders. Carrick has limitations, but all he has to do is get the ball to one of L-R-G, not do anything creative.
2. Our three best players (like Elano-Kaka-Robinho for Brazil) get lots of space to be creative, and can dominate the play around the opposition’s ‘Makelele’
3. Crouchy is then there to be nuisance in the box, and nod the ball down for L-R-G, or get on the end of something they’ve created.
4. There are plenty of players who can then cover when Johnson and Cole go forward, taking advantage of the spaces created by our big three.
Disadvantages
No Heskey
Advantages:
1. There’s plenty of cover for our dodgy central defenders. Carrick has limitations, but all he has to do is get the ball to one of L-R-G, not do anything creative.
2. Our three best players (like Elano-Kaka-Robinho for Brazil) get lots of space to be creative, and can dominate the play around the opposition’s ‘Makelele’
3. Crouchy is then there to be nuisance in the box, and nod the ball down for L-R-G, or get on the end of something they’ve created.
4. There are plenty of players who can then cover when Johnson and Cole go forward, taking advantage of the spaces created by our big three.
Disadvantages
No Heskey
Tasty chick update
It turns out that the eye-catching girls at the Holland game (see post below) were indeed a PR thing, and were promoting Bavarian Breweries. They do it at lots of Dutch events supposedly. Of course there's a great fuss as apparently two of them (there were 36 in all) got chucked out at half time. FIFA are twitchy about ambush marketing, and everyone is complaining that they are being too authoritarian, and this is part of a wider FIFA backlash you occasionally hear. I heard someone compare them to a global organised crime syndicate, whose sole aim was to create a nationwide soundstage for their super-rich sponsors.
The Cradle of Humankind, No, not Solihull.
About an hour out of town are the Sterkfontein Caves, which are much more impressive than the guidebooks say. Really big – er - caverns worthy of Indiana Jones, with proper stalactites/gmites and the place where all sorts of paleological finds were made. There’s a very swish museum nearby with lots of interpretation etched on lots of glass, it’s all very us-South African, almost as if they’d plonked a lot of lottery money down here.
It's part of a National Pek called grandly The Cradle of Humankind, which has lots of places they've found fossils and which they are trying to whizz up into something relevant and with-it
Th centre of the cradle is an even more lottery type project, the Maropeng, a sort of trendy museum which even has a sort of Plop Forest water ride which I think is supposed to take you through the four elements, before you learn about the bits of skeleton and fossil they have found which they then argue about. It's all in a big barn with yakking screens and flashing lights, probably confuses the hell out of any kids that get taken there. Australopithecus (thank you, spellcheck) is mentioned quite a lot, though there’s loads of earnest guff about the future and 'sustainability'. But like hardly anything else her it’s had money lavished on it with gift shops, cafes, nicely designed seating and health and safety. It’s all very Oxford Services. They need a bit of that elsewhere here.
It's part of a National Pek called grandly The Cradle of Humankind, which has lots of places they've found fossils and which they are trying to whizz up into something relevant and with-it
Th centre of the cradle is an even more lottery type project, the Maropeng, a sort of trendy museum which even has a sort of Plop Forest water ride which I think is supposed to take you through the four elements, before you learn about the bits of skeleton and fossil they have found which they then argue about. It's all in a big barn with yakking screens and flashing lights, probably confuses the hell out of any kids that get taken there. Australopithecus (thank you, spellcheck) is mentioned quite a lot, though there’s loads of earnest guff about the future and 'sustainability'. But like hardly anything else her it’s had money lavished on it with gift shops, cafes, nicely designed seating and health and safety. It’s all very Oxford Services. They need a bit of that elsewhere here.
Modern art and the vuvuzela drone. Discuss.
If you look at a Jackson Pollock for long enough you see all sorts of patterns and relationships between the colours and the lines and the densities that were not there before. Patterns that were not there the last time you looked, it’s like a new painting every time you look at it, and the longer you look the richer the experience. And the artist knows this and it’s done deliberately to set up a kind of collaboration between artist and viewer, that they have to trust each other, that they are equal partners in creating something new every time you look at the painting. It’s what genius is.
And it’s the same with the vuvuzela drone. It’s full of different patterns and harmonics (harmonics is the sound of two or more notes together - is that right, musical readers?), that only make sense if you listen to them carefully, there’s always a new sound, a new relationship being set up, and then another and then yet more, it’s a cumulative effect. And this is all done immediately by ten thousand people together not by one artist over time like the painter; yet the effect is the same: it’s a collaboration between players and listeners, except it’s instant and for that moment.
I’ve finished now but I could easily start again
And it’s the same with the vuvuzela drone. It’s full of different patterns and harmonics (harmonics is the sound of two or more notes together - is that right, musical readers?), that only make sense if you listen to them carefully, there’s always a new sound, a new relationship being set up, and then another and then yet more, it’s a cumulative effect. And this is all done immediately by ten thousand people together not by one artist over time like the painter; yet the effect is the same: it’s a collaboration between players and listeners, except it’s instant and for that moment.
I’ve finished now but I could easily start again
Tuesday 15th June
Zoo’s can be melancholy places can’t they? There was almost no-one around yesterday morning, and the place – acres and acres of it – was almost deserted. And the animals look almost as bored as the visitors. Still, there was a nice caff which was pleasant in the sunshine, although the weather has turned icy cold - ‘coming straight from the Antarctic, this is’ someone said to me.
Next to the Zoo is the SA Museum of Military History which has a comprehensive display on the Boer War, perhaps a bit too comprehensive if truth be told. 28,000 people died in the British concentration camps, there’s a fact no-one knows. Plus lots of military hardware, including a shot-down German fighter that crashed in Sussex but was transported to SA even before the war was ended for some reason, and some armoured vehicles with SA-relevant captions: ‘This vehicle was used in the Sharpeville massacre’: that sort of thing.
The game was at Ellis Park, right in the middle of town, so a completely different atmosphere to the previous games. You can see the city skyline, the floodlights in the distance and the lines of taillights along the motorway so it’s a bit like going to the Blues when I was a kid*. Plus absolutely freezing, so everyone was wrapped up in loads of layers, looking a bit more like a proper football crowd.
I had some excellent seats, right up at the top so I was looking forward to watching the Brazilians’ shifting patterns of play from on high with a slightly detached air. Except there was a cock up with the tickets and someone else had exactly the same ticket details as me, and we were both moved right down to the front in the third row. Among a load of completely madcrazybonkers people who acted the goat the whole time. There were Brazilians who had a three-foot replica of the World Cup, t here were people with silly hats who stood up the whole time despite being in the front row, and brandished a yellow card for every foul (how we laughed..), and the girls in front of me who fiddled with their hair and phones for ninety minutes and trilled ‘Ka-ka!!’ whenever he got the ball. I think when you are down at the front everyone is trying to get on telly, and to attract the attention of the photographers. And did I mention that it was our lot who were starting the Mexican waves? After five minutes?
So the Brazilians were pretty good although I believe they didn’t get a very good press. Quite a neat 4-2-3-1, much better than the Dutch play because the ‘water-carriers’, Silva and Melo, have a wider choice of players to give the ball to, with Robinho, Kaka and Elano in front of them. However they do have a tendency to fanny about a bit, and what penetration there was comes from the full backs, Bastos and Maicon – much the best players in the first half (hey, if there’s no rain, why do you need a Maicon?).
In the second half Brazil were kicking our way so my people were going nuts the whole time. Kaka seemed to move up which meant they played a slightly more conventional 4-4-2, although with the full backs still overlapping. I was right behind Maicon’s goal – Beautiful!. Then they started to play it round a bit more like 1982.
It was too cold to hang around too long after the match – they show the highlights and then the adverts at the end of the game, (My crowd actually joined in with the Coke advert...) and I usually wait till they have a sign saying Goodbye, but I had to go rescue the car.
Ah yes, Parking News.
Now the thing about pre-booked parking is that they are not supposed to let you into the ‘restricted zone’ without a pre-booked ticket. Which means that just on the edge of the zone, you get jumpy people leaping out in front of the car shouting ‘Safe Parking, Safe Parking!’ and waving madly. I’ve rather zipped past them muttering ‘Piss Off’ under my breath , but I realise now that they are going to lead your car into a nearby industrial space and charge you 50 rand, same as you’d pay FIFA. And not shoot you or get you to sleep with an Aids-raddled prostitute or anything bad at all. So I was put in a compound just outside the zone, and the guys there were jolly nice and the whole thing was all very good. And no hanging around for an hour eating crisps while the jams went down, I was straight off and away, with the knowledge I was doing my bit for the poor people. I told the guy there to reserve me a space on Friday.
*may not be true
Next to the Zoo is the SA Museum of Military History which has a comprehensive display on the Boer War, perhaps a bit too comprehensive if truth be told. 28,000 people died in the British concentration camps, there’s a fact no-one knows. Plus lots of military hardware, including a shot-down German fighter that crashed in Sussex but was transported to SA even before the war was ended for some reason, and some armoured vehicles with SA-relevant captions: ‘This vehicle was used in the Sharpeville massacre’: that sort of thing.
The game was at Ellis Park, right in the middle of town, so a completely different atmosphere to the previous games. You can see the city skyline, the floodlights in the distance and the lines of taillights along the motorway so it’s a bit like going to the Blues when I was a kid*. Plus absolutely freezing, so everyone was wrapped up in loads of layers, looking a bit more like a proper football crowd.
I had some excellent seats, right up at the top so I was looking forward to watching the Brazilians’ shifting patterns of play from on high with a slightly detached air. Except there was a cock up with the tickets and someone else had exactly the same ticket details as me, and we were both moved right down to the front in the third row. Among a load of completely madcrazybonkers people who acted the goat the whole time. There were Brazilians who had a three-foot replica of the World Cup, t here were people with silly hats who stood up the whole time despite being in the front row, and brandished a yellow card for every foul (how we laughed..), and the girls in front of me who fiddled with their hair and phones for ninety minutes and trilled ‘Ka-ka!!’ whenever he got the ball. I think when you are down at the front everyone is trying to get on telly, and to attract the attention of the photographers. And did I mention that it was our lot who were starting the Mexican waves? After five minutes?
So the Brazilians were pretty good although I believe they didn’t get a very good press. Quite a neat 4-2-3-1, much better than the Dutch play because the ‘water-carriers’, Silva and Melo, have a wider choice of players to give the ball to, with Robinho, Kaka and Elano in front of them. However they do have a tendency to fanny about a bit, and what penetration there was comes from the full backs, Bastos and Maicon – much the best players in the first half (hey, if there’s no rain, why do you need a Maicon?).
In the second half Brazil were kicking our way so my people were going nuts the whole time. Kaka seemed to move up which meant they played a slightly more conventional 4-4-2, although with the full backs still overlapping. I was right behind Maicon’s goal – Beautiful!. Then they started to play it round a bit more like 1982.
It was too cold to hang around too long after the match – they show the highlights and then the adverts at the end of the game, (My crowd actually joined in with the Coke advert...) and I usually wait till they have a sign saying Goodbye, but I had to go rescue the car.
Ah yes, Parking News.
Now the thing about pre-booked parking is that they are not supposed to let you into the ‘restricted zone’ without a pre-booked ticket. Which means that just on the edge of the zone, you get jumpy people leaping out in front of the car shouting ‘Safe Parking, Safe Parking!’ and waving madly. I’ve rather zipped past them muttering ‘Piss Off’ under my breath , but I realise now that they are going to lead your car into a nearby industrial space and charge you 50 rand, same as you’d pay FIFA. And not shoot you or get you to sleep with an Aids-raddled prostitute or anything bad at all. So I was put in a compound just outside the zone, and the guys there were jolly nice and the whole thing was all very good. And no hanging around for an hour eating crisps while the jams went down, I was straight off and away, with the knowledge I was doing my bit for the poor people. I told the guy there to reserve me a space on Friday.
*may not be true
Monday, 14 June 2010
Vuvezuelas 'not that bad' shock
They really are not that bad, really. In fact I actually rather like them.
First of all they are not that high pitched buzzy noise you get on TV. It’s a more lower and throaty, quite a sort of bloke-y sound. You kind of experience it in the ribs rather than the ears. And because you have to blow the thing, not hit it like a drum, or press it like a Klaxon, it’s a very ‘human ‘ noise. The idea is to sort of make the horn ‘say’ something, there’s quite a skill to it. It ends up sounding worried and anxious, very much like a football fan feels before or during a game, always thinking something bad is going to happen. It’s the sort of noise you can imagine in Robert Green’s head before a game. (Not that he’ll be having a game before August). So it’s not in any way aggressive or triumphant, it’s just a random noise. Although it’s not always random, occasionally there will be a call and response rhythm set up, with people just passing by or in another part of the stadium, or part of a rival group. The rhythm will get louder and faster until it inevitably breaks down and disappears into the background wail.
And then on the way back (never going to games) there’ll be a more kind of organised street party band set up as a few groups will all join up. The Ghanans had whistle blowers and drums, and do you know what, it was really rather good. With all the row there is no chanting, no hilarious comments very little applause, and no singing. But who wants to hear ‘Keep ‘em out , Daggers’ all afternoon? The local papers here hate the horns (no, I can’t spell the v-word) as they say that it silences the crowd and the tradition of tribal type rebel song type singing has gone. But me, I like them.
First of all they are not that high pitched buzzy noise you get on TV. It’s a more lower and throaty, quite a sort of bloke-y sound. You kind of experience it in the ribs rather than the ears. And because you have to blow the thing, not hit it like a drum, or press it like a Klaxon, it’s a very ‘human ‘ noise. The idea is to sort of make the horn ‘say’ something, there’s quite a skill to it. It ends up sounding worried and anxious, very much like a football fan feels before or during a game, always thinking something bad is going to happen. It’s the sort of noise you can imagine in Robert Green’s head before a game. (Not that he’ll be having a game before August). So it’s not in any way aggressive or triumphant, it’s just a random noise. Although it’s not always random, occasionally there will be a call and response rhythm set up, with people just passing by or in another part of the stadium, or part of a rival group. The rhythm will get louder and faster until it inevitably breaks down and disappears into the background wail.
And then on the way back (never going to games) there’ll be a more kind of organised street party band set up as a few groups will all join up. The Ghanans had whistle blowers and drums, and do you know what, it was really rather good. With all the row there is no chanting, no hilarious comments very little applause, and no singing. But who wants to hear ‘Keep ‘em out , Daggers’ all afternoon? The local papers here hate the horns (no, I can’t spell the v-word) as they say that it silences the crowd and the tradition of tribal type rebel song type singing has gone. But me, I like them.
Monday 14th June
No shed action tonight, so I’m sitting on the deck area supping my local Ginger Beer (even I can have enough Diet Coke) and eating a bun from the local super market (still no signs of anywhere selling booze. I have found ‘Old Melville’ which is as the guide books say, a busy student street with book shops and bars, every one of which was showing the football. You can walk along the street listening to the same commentary. What is odd is that the streets around are totally deserted, with high walls and signs promising #armed response’. I worked out why people walk in the road: in most places there is no pavement as no one seems to walk anywhere. So Melville hardly exists as a place, all the houses turn their back on the road and when people go out they go out in their cars to a mall.
Soccer City, see below is a much better stadium than in Pretoria: built of proper concrete, with wide aisles and loads of walk ways. You can walk round the whole stadium at the back of the seats, with the pitch in view the whole time. While carrying a Bud, which is obligatory for all the Dutch. The Danes of yesterday seem to have completely disappeared; the stadium was about 76% Orange. Not sure how many were locals, I only realised half way through that people here would support the Dutch.
You’ll be wanting to know about the parking. I was in a bit of a state as I’d read in the paper that you had to pre-book parking, and you wouldn’t be allowed in without a ticket. Also that there was chaos at the first game and it took hours to get there. So I set off about three hours before kickoff, but as it happened the man slips you a 50 rand ticket as you go in as though it’s an eighth outside Brixton station. The Car Park is miles from the stadium so you join a long line of Orangers with their painted faces and horns and Buds, in a never ending river of - er - Dutchness and this is two hours before kickoff. Seats were better than yesterday, though too near the pitch: the stadium is miles high and would be good to get a view from higher up. .
The match was not much good: lots too many players in the Makelele role, and the Ditch’s tactic was to give the ball to Sniejder as often as possible: De Jong and van Bommel do nothing else all afternoon. Benner was playing though clearly half-fit, and in danger of turning into a Peter Crouch: gangling but ineffective.
I was walking back to my seat after a circumnavigation so almost missed the first own goal. So it was after three hours of football that I actually saw a proper goal from open play Took ages to get back what with hanging around in the station and in the massive car park, so I only got back about six.
Next match not until tomorrow evening, seems like ages away - God know how I’ll occupy myself.
Soccer City, see below is a much better stadium than in Pretoria: built of proper concrete, with wide aisles and loads of walk ways. You can walk round the whole stadium at the back of the seats, with the pitch in view the whole time. While carrying a Bud, which is obligatory for all the Dutch. The Danes of yesterday seem to have completely disappeared; the stadium was about 76% Orange. Not sure how many were locals, I only realised half way through that people here would support the Dutch.
You’ll be wanting to know about the parking. I was in a bit of a state as I’d read in the paper that you had to pre-book parking, and you wouldn’t be allowed in without a ticket. Also that there was chaos at the first game and it took hours to get there. So I set off about three hours before kickoff, but as it happened the man slips you a 50 rand ticket as you go in as though it’s an eighth outside Brixton station. The Car Park is miles from the stadium so you join a long line of Orangers with their painted faces and horns and Buds, in a never ending river of - er - Dutchness and this is two hours before kickoff. Seats were better than yesterday, though too near the pitch: the stadium is miles high and would be good to get a view from higher up. .
The match was not much good: lots too many players in the Makelele role, and the Ditch’s tactic was to give the ball to Sniejder as often as possible: De Jong and van Bommel do nothing else all afternoon. Benner was playing though clearly half-fit, and in danger of turning into a Peter Crouch: gangling but ineffective.
I was walking back to my seat after a circumnavigation so almost missed the first own goal. So it was after three hours of football that I actually saw a proper goal from open play Took ages to get back what with hanging around in the station and in the massive car park, so I only got back about six.
Next match not until tomorrow evening, seems like ages away - God know how I’ll occupy myself.
Phwoar! It's not just the bacon that's tasty in Denmark
In fact half way through the half they changed into Orange and started supporting Holland, so dissappointingly they may have been a P R thing
Sunday 13th (more)
Back in the shed, watching a re-run of Ghana / Serbia on the big screen. One of the Americans has just asked her friend ‘Where IS Serbia?’
Sandton this morning is like Europa Park, with a bit of Touchwood, it’s very strange. The central bit is Nelson Mandela Sq, where you are supposed to hang out, except that they’ve built a big Sony marquee in the middle, where they have events inside, so you can hear the sound but not see what’s going on. Everyone sits in the cafes looking at the outside of the tent. Today all the Danes have arrived, and of course they were laying into the Tuborg despite the early hour. I was meanwhile laying into the Lipton’s Earl Grey and the SA Sunday Times.
Anyway I found the ticket centre and as advertised you put your card in and it immediately prints off your tickets. Takes about 20 seconds. Brilliant.
Got to Pretoria about two days before kick off, allowing plenty of time for Coke and crisps (2 for 1 at the Shell garage)in the car park, sited in a nearby (-ish) sports ground. I was so nervous about not knowing where the car was after the game that I took a picture of it. The stadium is in a kind of leafy area surrounded by parkland, not in the middle of town as it looks on the maps It’s a 60s / 70s building. It has a bit of the air of an arena where they massacre people in intellectual movies. Full off tall terracing and gloomy passageways.
I was just below where the cameras are, but I was right by a bottleneck / gridlock bit, so I had a harassed steward pretty much sharing my seat and loads of people standing in front of me looking for Row WW. I was in a neutral area, seemingly SA competition winners, obviously they were all supporting Ghana. The SA’s all wear yellow tops and they look like Brazil.
Good game, (though it doesn’t look that good on the telly just now), with an excellent performance by Birmingham’s former hero Kingson in goal for Ghana, and an adequate performance from Birmingham’s future hero Zigic. I hung around after the game until the stadium emptied, in fact for so long that the car park was pretty much empty when I got back, sadly depriving me of another crisp opportunity; as I was due at Centurion Park for the Germany game.
Centurion Park – as you know – is the famous cricket ground stuck out on the motorway somewhere – as you can imagine what with it being dark I had to have a couple of runs at it before actually finding it. Anyway, rather a lovely scene inside, with a couple of thousand people, a jolly little band onstage and some stalls selling Mutton curry. Pausing only to berate a bloke selling coffee who asked me if Birmingham had avoided relegation, I settled down somewhere near Deep Long Off to watch an excellent performance by the Germans.
Back here laying into the free tea: I haven’t managed to work out which are the shops that sell booze: not the 7-11’s and not the newsagents. I’ll try at the pharmacists tomorrow.
Sandton this morning is like Europa Park, with a bit of Touchwood, it’s very strange. The central bit is Nelson Mandela Sq, where you are supposed to hang out, except that they’ve built a big Sony marquee in the middle, where they have events inside, so you can hear the sound but not see what’s going on. Everyone sits in the cafes looking at the outside of the tent. Today all the Danes have arrived, and of course they were laying into the Tuborg despite the early hour. I was meanwhile laying into the Lipton’s Earl Grey and the SA Sunday Times.
Anyway I found the ticket centre and as advertised you put your card in and it immediately prints off your tickets. Takes about 20 seconds. Brilliant.
Got to Pretoria about two days before kick off, allowing plenty of time for Coke and crisps (2 for 1 at the Shell garage)in the car park, sited in a nearby (-ish) sports ground. I was so nervous about not knowing where the car was after the game that I took a picture of it. The stadium is in a kind of leafy area surrounded by parkland, not in the middle of town as it looks on the maps It’s a 60s / 70s building. It has a bit of the air of an arena where they massacre people in intellectual movies. Full off tall terracing and gloomy passageways.
I was just below where the cameras are, but I was right by a bottleneck / gridlock bit, so I had a harassed steward pretty much sharing my seat and loads of people standing in front of me looking for Row WW. I was in a neutral area, seemingly SA competition winners, obviously they were all supporting Ghana. The SA’s all wear yellow tops and they look like Brazil.
Good game, (though it doesn’t look that good on the telly just now), with an excellent performance by Birmingham’s former hero Kingson in goal for Ghana, and an adequate performance from Birmingham’s future hero Zigic. I hung around after the game until the stadium emptied, in fact for so long that the car park was pretty much empty when I got back, sadly depriving me of another crisp opportunity; as I was due at Centurion Park for the Germany game.
Centurion Park – as you know – is the famous cricket ground stuck out on the motorway somewhere – as you can imagine what with it being dark I had to have a couple of runs at it before actually finding it. Anyway, rather a lovely scene inside, with a couple of thousand people, a jolly little band onstage and some stalls selling Mutton curry. Pausing only to berate a bloke selling coffee who asked me if Birmingham had avoided relegation, I settled down somewhere near Deep Long Off to watch an excellent performance by the Germans.
Back here laying into the free tea: I haven’t managed to work out which are the shops that sell booze: not the 7-11’s and not the newsagents. I’ll try at the pharmacists tomorrow.
Sunday, 13 June 2010
Sun June 13
Watched the game here on the big screen in the #shed# along with an assortment of Americans Mexicans and Germans. Couldn't manage to get the R5 coverage so not sure how 'wretched' England were. I am going to have to ditch the West Ham hat I've brought. Has anyone said how useless Joe Hart is at anything coming from outside the box?
Breakfast is like that scene in Pleasantville when Reece Witherspoon goes back to the fifties and the breakfast table is piled nigh with calorie + fat -rich food. I was just starting my bowl of Alpen (I thought that was enough..) and they brought some cheese scones with additional cream on, A bowl of steaming 'Pap' which is like mashhed potato and maize, and a plate of scrambled egg and bacon. And toast. It'd take me most of the day to get through it.
On the TV the pundits are Dwight Yorke, Paul Ince, and the man they caption as 'World Cup Winner 1966', that's Terry Paine.
It's half eight so I am off to Sandton to get my tickets, then to Pretoria.
Breakfast is like that scene in Pleasantville when Reece Witherspoon goes back to the fifties and the breakfast table is piled nigh with calorie + fat -rich food. I was just starting my bowl of Alpen (I thought that was enough..) and they brought some cheese scones with additional cream on, A bowl of steaming 'Pap' which is like mashhed potato and maize, and a plate of scrambled egg and bacon. And toast. It'd take me most of the day to get through it.
On the TV the pundits are Dwight Yorke, Paul Ince, and the man they caption as 'World Cup Winner 1966', that's Terry Paine.
It's half eight so I am off to Sandton to get my tickets, then to Pretoria.
Saturday, 12 June 2010
Saturday June 12th Part Two
More stuff about SA, from my one excursion into town.
They all walk just in the road instead of on the pavement. This is foolish with me at the wheel.
Everyone speaks English, but easily switch into Afrikaans which is a really horrible-sounding language, worse than Dutch.
Not that many Vuvezuelas so far, you hear a few on the streets but not many. In fact there are not that many people about in general. Not too many signs of a nation in celebration, although they all seem pretty friendly, I have developed a slightly condescending beam to give them.
Of course you see a few Boers about: old, fat, ruddy men looking like ex-pat Brits in Alicante, hanging around the cash machines and looking like they own the place.
Talking to the man here at Lon3rd he keeps saying, oh no, that’s not a safe area, and of course as you go around you never quite know which are the dodgy areas or not, so I think I look a bit shifty most of the time, in my scruffy grey jacket, trying to look like a poor local, despite my pockets bulging with guidebooks and maps.
Parking Update: there’s a narrow drive with security door at the side of the hotel, and I’ve made pretty clear that that is something that is not going to happen, so I’m parked outside the front. Re-assuringly (or not) there’s an armed security guard in a hut on the street corner, some sort of Neighbourhood watch thing. I’m thinking that anyone messing with my wheels gets a bellyful of lead.
They all walk just in the road instead of on the pavement. This is foolish with me at the wheel.
Everyone speaks English, but easily switch into Afrikaans which is a really horrible-sounding language, worse than Dutch.
Not that many Vuvezuelas so far, you hear a few on the streets but not many. In fact there are not that many people about in general. Not too many signs of a nation in celebration, although they all seem pretty friendly, I have developed a slightly condescending beam to give them.
Of course you see a few Boers about: old, fat, ruddy men looking like ex-pat Brits in Alicante, hanging around the cash machines and looking like they own the place.
Talking to the man here at Lon3rd he keeps saying, oh no, that’s not a safe area, and of course as you go around you never quite know which are the dodgy areas or not, so I think I look a bit shifty most of the time, in my scruffy grey jacket, trying to look like a poor local, despite my pockets bulging with guidebooks and maps.
Parking Update: there’s a narrow drive with security door at the side of the hotel, and I’ve made pretty clear that that is something that is not going to happen, so I’m parked outside the front. Re-assuringly (or not) there’s an armed security guard in a hut on the street corner, some sort of Neighbourhood watch thing. I’m thinking that anyone messing with my wheels gets a bellyful of lead.
Saturday June 12th
Flight OK, delayed about half an hour. Uncomfortable seats, sausage and mash, 2012 (disaster movie – quite good), plus James Taylor on the iPod to encourage fitful sleep. Plane full of Hondurans, strangely.
Tambo airport a FiFa –themed zoo, fans everywhere. Huge rabble of a queue for tickets so I missed that, preferring the queue at Avis. Took possession of my Kia (I think) setting off the burglar alarm only twice, much to the consternation of the underlings.
Embarked on a map-less drive across Jo-burg in order to get the feel of the car and the traffic, and most definitely not because I was in any way lost. Oh dear me no. Hey, here’s a good thing, they drive on the left! Which is good except that because you are abroad you tend to think you should be on the right. Traffic is actually quite sparse and surprisingly cautious: lots of middle-lining, which suits me fine. There’s a strange thing at traffic lights where they sort of inch forward on green as though they don’t have hand brakes or are expecting something to hurtle across.
Joburg is like downtown Pittsburgh: big ware houses, massive overpasses, and that chainlink fencing they have on cop shows. And roads sort of peter out into sort of industrial estates even though you are in the middle of the city.
Anyway found me way easily to Melville, not getting in the least bit lost. Melville is more like Berkeley: quiet tree-lined streets, not many people about. Some widely separated shop-y bits, with everything a bit more than walking distance away. Hotel is like a Motel, everyone very friendly, they made me a cup of tea when I arrived and showed me to a sort of out house where they have a massive screen. (Like the shed at the back of the Cuckfield)
Watched some of both matches, while sorting myself out, then drove into the ‘Campus Mall’ where I had a coffee at the Woolworth’s (really) Bought a map (handy.. ) and had another practice on the Motorway, prior to my trip tomorrow. I have to pick up the tickets in Sandton, then off to Pretoria.
Getting set for the England match, already nervous and I haven’t logged on to Radio 5 yet
Tambo airport a FiFa –themed zoo, fans everywhere. Huge rabble of a queue for tickets so I missed that, preferring the queue at Avis. Took possession of my Kia (I think) setting off the burglar alarm only twice, much to the consternation of the underlings.
Embarked on a map-less drive across Jo-burg in order to get the feel of the car and the traffic, and most definitely not because I was in any way lost. Oh dear me no. Hey, here’s a good thing, they drive on the left! Which is good except that because you are abroad you tend to think you should be on the right. Traffic is actually quite sparse and surprisingly cautious: lots of middle-lining, which suits me fine. There’s a strange thing at traffic lights where they sort of inch forward on green as though they don’t have hand brakes or are expecting something to hurtle across.
Joburg is like downtown Pittsburgh: big ware houses, massive overpasses, and that chainlink fencing they have on cop shows. And roads sort of peter out into sort of industrial estates even though you are in the middle of the city.
Anyway found me way easily to Melville, not getting in the least bit lost. Melville is more like Berkeley: quiet tree-lined streets, not many people about. Some widely separated shop-y bits, with everything a bit more than walking distance away. Hotel is like a Motel, everyone very friendly, they made me a cup of tea when I arrived and showed me to a sort of out house where they have a massive screen. (Like the shed at the back of the Cuckfield)
Watched some of both matches, while sorting myself out, then drove into the ‘Campus Mall’ where I had a coffee at the Woolworth’s (really) Bought a map (handy.. ) and had another practice on the Motorway, prior to my trip tomorrow. I have to pick up the tickets in Sandton, then off to Pretoria.
Getting set for the England match, already nervous and I haven’t logged on to Radio 5 yet
Tuesday, 8 June 2010
All are welcome to comment
Please feel free to comment here. Especially if you know why the embedded video below has changed to Bon Jovi.
New Update
Afternoon followers,
Just to say that the rest of the family, it tutns out, will not be commenting on this blog. Sorry. It'll just be David from now on.
Byeeee,
David's PA
Just to say that the rest of the family, it tutns out, will not be commenting on this blog. Sorry. It'll just be David from now on.
Byeeee,
David's PA
Saturday, 5 June 2010
Let's see if I can get video links to work
Here's a very appropriate link to a sighting of England's hat trick hero Sir Geoff Hurst
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HRhQ6ar1GYo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HRhQ6ar1GYo
Update
Hey there gang!
There have been some cool new updates to the David World Cup internet bonanza. You can now check out David's Youtube Channel at 'davegibbo1956'. There are a number of videos on there of various concerts that David has attended. Enjoy!
David departs for South Africa in about a week. In the meantime, please follow us.
Thanks,
David's PA
There have been some cool new updates to the David World Cup internet bonanza. You can now check out David's Youtube Channel at 'davegibbo1956'. There are a number of videos on there of various concerts that David has attended. Enjoy!
David departs for South Africa in about a week. In the meantime, please follow us.
Thanks,
David's PA
Friday, 4 June 2010
*Breaking News*
Important information just released by the main man:
Apparently, David has just said that the rest of his family will also be 'blogging' during David's time at the World Cup. We will also be giving regular updates (from here in England) to communicate not only with you, the fans, but with David himself. However, this is still david's blog, so we will not take the shine off him. Have fun, dave!
From David's PA
Apparently, David has just said that the rest of his family will also be 'blogging' during David's time at the World Cup. We will also be giving regular updates (from here in England) to communicate not only with you, the fans, but with David himself. However, this is still david's blog, so we will not take the shine off him. Have fun, dave!
From David's PA
Picture information
Hey world cup fans!This is a picture of our man in South Africa, on a recent trip to the USA. It's sort of a test as well, as we are not sure how easy it is to upload photos to this thing. Seems pretty easy.
Thanks again,
David's PA
Introductory message
Hello!
This is a blog by David, who is heading out to the world cup in South Africa to watch 5 games.
Please subscribe, or follow, or whatever you have to do, to view this astonishing piece of literature.
Thank you
From David's personal secretary
This is a blog by David, who is heading out to the world cup in South Africa to watch 5 games.
Please subscribe, or follow, or whatever you have to do, to view this astonishing piece of literature.
Thank you
From David's personal secretary
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