2. Getting away from the campsite without being hurt by the psychotic stroke man.
3. A man in the town of Springbok tried to sell me and Claire M some drugs -- the first time on the trip. Go Cla(i)res.
4. The taste of a cup of tea when you are hungover. Last night I announced that I was going for a hangover, and I suceeded very satisfactorily. As a result, I have been murmuring 'Oh my head' and then smiling to myself smugly. My other mission -- to drink lots of gin and cry -- failed wretchedly. Even the loss of Francis squeezed no tears out of hard-hearted Clare.
5. Today's drive was both hot and windy -- it was like putting your face into the oven. So arriving in Citrusdal was lovely. Our hostel -- Gecko Backpackers -- is cool and shady and green and watered by drip feed hoses so there is a smell of water everywhere. There is Cartoon Network and small children and homebrew. And and and there are lawns to put our tents on, and I can't tell you how comfortable grass is to sleep on. Soft sand is good too; but gritty sand is definitely out of favour as it is hard, doesn't hold tent pegs and gets everywhere.
6. Wayne offers: 'A couch within walking distance of the fridge and pile of magazines.' By the time we left he had read: GQ, FHM, Men's Health, New Woman, Heat and Cosmopolitan. And some random motorcycle ones.
Citrusdal, South Africa