Posted in Travel, Uncategorized

South Africa-The Journey Begins

Snip20180309_1.pngThe Penguin sends his apologies. He is asleep in my backpack and won’t be moving for awhile. IN fact we are still in transit.  We have been travelling since yesterday, 11:00 am Australia time. That is about 30 hours ago.

We arrived at the Hobart airport, boarded our Virgin airline flight to Melbourne only to be  told after half an hour of waiting the plane was leaking hydraulic fluid. Only a one in a million chance that would be a problem but would we mind disembarking until the the problem could be sorted.  Into the airport we went. To make a long story short, amidst chaos at this small airport with the bad food and no Virgin lounge for Business class, a new plane was sent from somewhere in Australia with a crew who came in on their day off to fly to Hobart. Our flight from Melbourne to Perth was lost and we feared we’d miss the connection to Johannesburg. Virgin, to their credit did get us booked on another flight out of Melbourne to Perth. We arrived in Melbourne at 8:30 pm instead of 2:30 pm and had less than an hour to catch the flight to Perth, which we made. It was a very pleasant flight with good entertainment and food and staff were lovely. I watched the film LBJ which I really enjoyed and Mr. Penguin caught up with Three Billboards which I had seen before and loved.

Arriving in Perth we had one hour to get the flight to Johannesburg. Virgin staff in both Hobart and somewhere else along the line, I forget, told us to pick up our baggage in Johannesburg because it is the first point of call into Africa.  We arrived. We went to baggage claim and after waiting for everyone else on the plane to get their bags ours were nowhere to be seen.  A ground crew woman told us go here, here, do a you turn, end of hallway, by carousel 13.  No such place. Finally found an office for baggage enquiries with no one there but rounded up some people who came to help us and a few others in the same predicament.

Turns out as we are only transiting through South Africa we do not claim our baggage. Our cases were checked to Windhoek, Namibia and that is where they probably are.

Now 30 hours into this journey we still have another hour before going to board our 2.5 hour flight to Windhoek.

On the bright side the airport here is easy to navigate and everyone is so friendly.  I went into an electronics shop to get an adapter and three people were dying to serve me.  We don’t see this in Hobart, so I was impressed. Staff everywhere and everyone wanting to help while smiling at the same time.

Hopefully our bags will be in Windhoek when we arrive. The tour only has 12 people on it and the guide will meet our plane.  We have managed to get some Rand and found the South African Lounge. I know, I know…we’re spoiled by flying business class, but hey, we never had children and we both worked 40 years.  You save a lot of money that way for things you want to do once retired. No school fees for cats and dogs.

I might add we also have a welcome dinner tonight to attend after a few hours rest in our hotel.  I’m going to use this blog as a bit of a travel journal for us.  If you’re interested, please feel free to follow along. If you’re not interested, that’s okay and I’ll be back to talking about books and other things in April.  Stay tuned…. or not….Snip20180309_2

 

Posted in Deal Me In Challenge

3 Short Stories and a Novel

Snip20180303_2Just wrapping up a bit of odds and ends reading this past week.  I had to catch up on my Deal Me In Challenge short stories. I skipped a couple of weeks, then read three in one week.

 

Two of the stories were from the book That Glimpse of Truth: 100 of the Finest Short Stories Ever Written published 2014

The Ace and Five of Hearts:

One was the very easy Aesop’s Fable of the Hare and the Tortoise.  I don’t think I need to say much about that as that is a story most of us learn by heart at a very early age. I do still love it though. That turtle just plods on and on and always gets there in the end.Snip20180303_4

The second story I read is by Joseph Conrad called The Lagoon.  I have noticed many readers haven’t cared for Joseph Conrad’s novels that much. I have never read one. I did read online that some think his short stories are better than his novels.  I enjoyed this short story. It held my interest and I found it to be moving and well written.

*The narrator is Arsat He tells of the time when he and his brother kidnapped Diamelen (his lover, who was previously a servant of the Rajah’s wife). They all fled in a boat at night and travelled until they were exhausted. They stopped on a bit of land jutting out into the water to rest. Soon however, they spotted a large boat of the Rajah’s men coming to find them. Arsat’s brother told Diamelen and Arsat to flee to the other side, where there was a fisherman’s hut. He instructed them to take the fisherman’s boat and then stayed back, telling them to wait for him while he dealt with the pursuers. However, Arsat did everything but wait for his brother. As he pushed the boat from shore, he saw his brother running down the path, being chased by the pursuers. Arsat’s brother tripped and the enemy was upon him. His brother called out to him three times, but Arsat never looked back; he had betrayed his brother for the woman he loved. Towards the end of the story, symbolically, the sun rises and Diamelen dies. Arsat has nothing now; not a brother nor a wife. He has lost everything. He plans to return to his home village to avenge his brother’s death. The story concludes with “Tuan”s simply leaving, and Arsat’s staring dejectedly into the sun. (*source Wikipedia)Snip20180303_3

The third story is from the book Australian Short Stories. These stories are very old, early 1900’s and I enjoyed the one selected. Ernestine Hill’s The End of an Idol (From the A.B.C. Weekly- early 1900’s).  She was an Australian journalist, travel writer and novelist born 1899. She died in 1972. I hadn’t heard of her but I did find a bit about her online.  She lived on a large property in Queensland and the story is a memoir about a drifter who came onto the property looking for work. He arrived with donkeys in tow and asked for a job as a cook, which they badly needed at the station. It turned out he had been a circus performer in his past and he entertained everyone on the property and ended up becoming much loved by the owners, workers and indigenous workers alike. The children adored him. However he becomes sick and needs medical attention and has to take his donkeys to travel to the hospital which is three days away. The journey is long, he becomes tired, he lies down and passes away at the very end, never making it to hospital.  It is well written and touching tale that I enjoyed very much.

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Ernestine Hill

The novel I am listening to and almost finished with is The Truth about the Harry Quebert Affair I am listening to the audible version narrated by Pierce Cravens (excellent narration) and written by Joel Dicker.  Joel Dicker is a Swiss writer and this book was published in North America in English in 2014. I listen to it when in the car and when trying to sleep at night or during the night if I wake up and can’t get back to sleep.

Evidently the book was more popular in Europe than in the USA. The Americans thought it was lacklustre and full of cliches (which I agree with.) This book makes me laugh.  The dialogue is so bad you just can’t believe it. The book is more than 600 pages. The story is interesting in that it is a book within a book. The story does keep my interest though it is exceedingly repetitive.  Some of the structures within it are great fun.  In brief, it is a story of a New England American writer and lecturer in his 30’s who falls for a 15 year old girl in a small town in New Hampshire. Their love relationship becomes monumental but it is unconsummated because she is under age.  They make plans to run away to Canada and marry when she is old enough.  However she goes missing and her body is found 35 years later buried on the perimeter of his property.  Harry had a student, Marcus Goldman, who idolised him and is himself a writer. He decides to write Harry’s story after Harry is arrested for her murder once her body is found.

Snip20180303_8 There are twists and turns and just when you think you have it all figured out it changes again.  But the book is so badly written at times that laughter is the only way out of it.  I read several reviews on Good Reads and people either absolutely hated it or love it to pieces.  It is not great literature by any means. I think if I were reading the hard copy I would have quit by now but the audible has the voices of all the town’s people and I like following them. I am having fun with it (for the most part).

Also…….It is a bit of fluffy distraction as we prepare for next week.

What is next week you might add?

Packing is the first clue.  The second clue is getting the house sitter organised and the cats sent off to camp (cattery).

We are off on a 25 day trip with 10 other people to Botswana, Namibia and the Zimbabwe side of Victoria Falls.  So the next post might be delayed a bit but the Penguin is packed and you will see him in the next posts. He is getting ready to be photographed on the 5th continent of his life.   I know. It is exciting and there are adventures to be had during the month of March. I will try to post up somethings as we go but not sure what internet availability will be so bear with us.

So the “Travellin’ Penguin” is on the move again and “Yes”, I am taking reading material and I’m sure there will things to read, see and talk about along the way. Stay tuned.Snip20180303_1

Posted in Poetry

A Canine Sestina on Saturday Squawk

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Odie (left) and Wally at the Dog Beach- their favourite place.

I belong to a small writing group that meets every Wednesday afternoon (except for the third one of the month.).  We play with words, grammar and talk about commas for hours. It is always a good laugh. Our group meets for two hours, then we go for coffee. We usually have a topic for the following week or we can work on something we’re currently interested in.  We rent a room from the Tasmanian Writer’s Centre in Salamanca.

Last year we played a bit with the Sestina.  Wikipedia describes the Sestina as:

“A sestina (Old Occitan: cledisat [klediˈzat]; also known as sestine, sextine, sextain) is a fixed verse form consisting of six stanzas of six lines each, normally followed by a three-line envoi. The words that end each line of the first stanza are used as line endings in each of the following stanzas, rotated in a set pattern.”

I decided to write one about my dog Wally who passed away two years ago. We loved him dearly and he is still a part of our “talking” life.

First you must settle on the six words you want to use in the six lines and six stanzas.

I chose. Morning, Drive, Rain, Fields, Dog, Bed

Then I filled in the table that I needed to follow.

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Finally I wrote the poem.  It was a great deal of fun sticking to the formula. The original sestinas required seven syllables in the first line of each stanza and the rest of the lines ten.  But that rule was relaxed as the years went on.  I would like to try my hand with that formula but I was happy with this one. The final stanza must have three lines with two of the words in each line.   My example is as follows. My tribute to Wally.

A Canine Sestina 

On a cloudy Sunday morning
I decided to go for a drive,
Let’s leave early as to miss the rain
That’s forecast for later above the fields.
Will I travel alone or take my dog
“Come on,” I said,” Get out of your bed.

My chunky boy get out of bed?
Who generally sleeps past morning?
Why did I think I’d take my dog?
The last thing he wants is to go for a drive.
He never dreams of rabbits in fields,
Though he doesn’t appear to mind the rain.

He loves his bath, the hose and rain;
Water never sends him to his bed
If coaxed he’ll chase birds in the fields
Evening time is better than morning
But he never wants to go for a drive
He’s always been a carsick dog.

I’ve never had a queasier dog
Who’d leave a car instead for rain
He doesn’t care about a drive;
He’s most at home upon his bed/
Each and every morning
He’ll be asleep, not running in fields.

Rabbits, birds and goats in the fields
Will never interest my little dog;
As I said, come Sunday morning
Though it’s pelting down with rain,
My dog runs through it from his bed
So he won’t be coaxed to go for a drive

The rattling keys signal a drive
And soon he’s off across the fields.
I’ve barely risen from my bed
When I must chase my dog;
And though it’s not a pouring rain
It is a very wet morning.

As my dog runs through the rain
Across the fields this morning
We change our mind about the drive and we go back to bed.

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If you’d like to try your hand at this fun exercise or read more about it the Wikipedia link has a lot of information (here.)