So long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Good-bye...

I'm sitting here in Heathrow airport crafting my final post for Year Of The Yank. I predicted that my return to normalcy would likely result in an atrophy of the blog, but instead I've decided that a clean sever would provide more closure. This was always more of a communication line back to The States, rather than an analysis of games in the tournament. Nobody wants to read that I thought Algeria were passing the ball exquisitely in their last game, or that England is playing lazy because they feel like the win should be easy for them.

It was an amazing trip. We attended four games but had to miss attending two because of travel logistics. Also, I didn't get to watch as many games on television as if I was sitting at home on my couch, but it was still worth it. The people who came to South Africa for the Cup and the people who live there provided a wonderful travel experience.

My predictions for the rest of the World Cup is obviously that the United States will win the Cup, and if I'm wrong, there will be no blog post to humbly admit it. Although, if I'm right, I may add a few comments taunting all 31 other nations; especially England. Other predictions:

• England will not make it to the round of 16.
• At least one African nation will make it to the quaterfinals.
• Ronaldo's yellow card for arguing will not be overturned by FIFA, and he'll eventually get another for diving, causing him to miss an important match in which Portugal will be knocked out of the tournament.

I'm not certain I'll be going to the 2014 World Cup in Brazil. I don't imagine that country could ever be as welcoming as South Africa, and I think they have too much soccer ego. If I do go, it would likely only be to Rio De Janiero and I'd just see whichever games come to that city. Plus I need time to rest after this trip and four years just might not cut it. I might be ready by 2018, especially if the USA or England win the bid to host.

I don't have many regrets at all about this trip. If planning it again, I supposed I'd end the trip with Cape Town instead of starting it. I'd like to say I'd follow the U.S.A. team to all three of their group games, but that makes for a lengthy vacation and I wanted to see some of the other National teams that I might not have a chance to see. I think a larger group would make driving and navigating easier for remote locations. I don't know how many times The Blonde said "Left" meaning right, and vice-versa. I'd still rent a car in each city, even though we barely used it in Cape Town.

I may plan a Barclay's Premier League four-day weekend either this fall or spring, consisting of a Saturday and Sunday game in the London or nearby areas, if I can work out the logistics. If any of you know me personally and have an interest in going, let me know if you want in.

Goodbye and happy footballing from London,

TeedeeG and The Blonde.

Magic

All the folks at work will be happy to know that The Blonde broke her seat-back television on the Johannesburg to London flight, and it dumped to what looked like a Linux dmesg screen. The plane stayed airborne and it was eventually fixed "by magic", she says.

It's need-to-know, and you don't need to know.

Ref who disallowed USA's third goal in the almost-comeback yesterday may not be allowed to ref anymore this Cup. Link

Game Sign: If you ain't Dutch, you ain't much

Pictures from Today's Netherlands-Japan game in Durban.

Make the game more beautiful.

Watching the World Cup and wanting to spread some footie across the globe? Check out the Big Ball Project which aims to help provide Soccer gear to children across the world who have to use makeshift equipment. It's a way to let everyone enjoy the beautiful game.

U Can't Touch This

Tomorrow begins two days of curling up on hard airport chairs and jostling for armrests in cramped coach class. I'm guessing, Virgin Atlantic will try serving another horrible smelling chicken curry meal at midnight, and they won't have changed any of the seat-back TV shows from the flight here. Luckily, I've tried enough delicious food in the last two weeks to afford me a skipped meal.

Anyone who knows me knows that I eat at the same Chinese fast-food joint, and order the same thing every day. Variety is not a spice I usually relish, but this trip forced me out of my routine a bit and I did not have a single meal that wasn't absolutely delicious.

One other note: Both M.C. Hammer and Vanilla Ice have found work advertising in commercials down here for Castle Lite. They're not producing new material, but singing their classics "U Cant Touch This" and "Ice Ice Baby".

You can't spell Holland without Holla!!

Today, the last pair of tickets for a game we could attend goaded us back into Durban to see Netherlands take on Japan. Our hotel recommended catching the train that passed near the hotel, and said that one of the arrivals was a special FIFA train. Just by showing our tickets, we could ride for free. I read about some of the trains before coming to South Africa and came across warnings about muggings and robberies on the trains. Being a special FIFA train, I was thinking that maybe they'd stock it with loads of security guards, but the security situation isn't sorted yet and I don't know if the thinning police force would be represented on the train. We scoped out the platform yesterday and saw mostly locals and some who looked like they might be homeless. The situation might have changed for the FIFA train, be we decided to play it safe and drive back to the beach and walk the three miles to and from the car to the stadium.

It was near eighty degrees in the sun. People were swimming and surfing again, and occasionally there was a random spontaneous dance party. The Blonde got on my nerves by stopping every ten feet to take a picture or pet somebody's dog. Two weeks is a long time to put up with someone and early on it probably wouldn't have bugged me, but I'm exhausted and ready to go home. I can tell she's getting sick of me too, but I don't know why. I never get sick of me.

The game wasn't extraordinarily exciting, but it had it's moments. If you watched it on TV and saw some huge Netherlands flag covering a whole section in the upper deck, you may have seen us as a bump underneath. The fan ratio was skewed heavily towards The Netherlands, and we were sitting in front of a group that hatched the plan to spread the flag. Before the game they colluded with the Dutch fans in the front row; telling them it would be passed down to them and that they should hold onto it when the team entered the pitch. At that point, I was a fan of the Dutch. Then the game started and the Dutch players bugged me by walking away with the ball during deadball situations, and the Dutch fans bugged me by smoking in the clearly posted No Smoking stadium (until the police showed up and told a dozen of them to extinguish). And the Dutch fan that frisbeed his drink carrier into the lower stands was the last douchebaggery that turned me into a fan of Japan.

The vuvuzelas were worse than when The Netherlands played Denmark and the fans were more lively, but still just as tall and blonde. This time, I picked up some earplugs beforehand which turned out to silence not just the horns, but also The Blonde. I'm considering bringing some back for at the office.

U-S-A-U-S-A-U-S-A !!!

The French may not have been able to work any magic on the pitch last night, but they did work magic on their TV broadcast. Through the magic of technology, they cancelled out the sound the vuvuzelas in their broadcast, leaving all other sounds. I'm hoping they can come up with a live-event version.

After 14 days of travel, clean clothes are running low but today is a freebie. Since the U.S.A. is playing again, I get to wear my U.S.A. jersey and stretch my wardrobe another day. Walked two miles of sandy beach barefoot in front of the last beachfront hotel, but with rolled up pantlegs. The seawater still got to the jeans and I'm not looking forward to packing them in my luggage. It was mid-70's and not a cloud in the sky. People were sunbathing, fishing, and playing cricket, which is how Winter should be.

My cheering of the day:

• Germany over Serbia, because Germany was disciplined and impressive in their last outing against Australia.
• The U.S.A. over Slovenia, because just because.
• A draw in the Algeria-England game, but I want it to be a fantastic show of football by England that just doesn't happen to win the game.

Monkey Business

To kill time before the Argentina-South Korea game, we decided to hit a local mall for some last minute shopping. Setting off, The Blonde got to see some monkeys on the side of the road, which made her day. Then we followed the GPS, which knew we didn't want to take the easy, safe highway route, but instead wanted to drive through slums and shanties. Finally, instead of turning us into the shopping mall, it pointed us to the local prison, but at that point we were close enough to make an educated turn. Shopping was a disappointment as it was just a regular shopping mall with normal stores, obviously geared towards locals.

My cheering today will be for

• South Korea over Argentina, which probably won't happen.
• Nigeria over Greece
• And a draw in the France-Mexico game, just to help out the hosts South Africa.

A salute to The Man

The newspapers here are filled with laments of last nights loss by South Africa, but getting past the front page has more stories on security. Reports say that some of the old security guards were hired a week before the World Cup, which wouldn't have left them time to have proper background checks by South Africa's National Intelligence Agency. In truth, some of the security provided by the security company may have been an illusion. At the Netherlands-Denmark game, I passed through the metal detector and went ding. When the guard approached to frisk me, I showed my metal belt buckle and he waved me past.

But the local police have stepped up. Their thouroughness has slowed entrance at the gates of stadiums, but it's certainly for the better. All of their personal leave has been cancelled and they're working 10-12 hour shifts; sacrificing to keep things safe. There are also reports that crime reports, which normally dip in May and June anyways, are down even more and they credit the increased police presence as a deterrent. Yesterday, at the Durban fan zone, we saw groups of twenty or so uniformed police being walked through the area and being briefed on how to do security. We left before the late, hectic game between South Africa and Uruguay, but reports say that 45,000 showed up at the fan zone and eventually the police had to close the gates to further admittance. Still, they say a hundred or so crashed the gates to get into the already crowded fan zone.

Frisky Business

The Blonde intimidates men here in South Africa too. When we were entering the Fan Zone today, she jumped behind a guy in line who was being frisked to get through security. This wasn't her first trip through these security checkpoints where they typically have women lines with women guards to do the frisking, and men's lines with men guards. The guard, who was paying attention to the guy he was frisking, finished and sent him on his way and turned with his hands up to frisk the next person; The Blonde. When he saw her, he threw his hands back in embarrassment after almost frisking a girl. He reacted with a nervous laugh, and The Blonde just chuckled and got in the correct line.

I want a girl with a short skirt and a long jacket.

Dutch women were arrested for an "ambush" marketing campaign where they sent models in short orange miniskirts to Netherlands-Denmark game. I certainly didn't see them, but I will be looking for them in Durban during the Netherlands-Japan game.

Better trend than Vuvuzelas

These are very popular here...

Springbok tastes like chicken, if you wrap it in chicken

When we arrived at this latest lodging in an area of Durban whose hills could rival San Francisco, we were given a little scare when they had no record of our booking. For hotels and air travel in South Africa, I used Kulula.com, which is a booking site for South Africa similar to expedia or travelocity. For the most part, they've been flawless, but in this case the lodging never received my reservation even though Kulula billed my Credit Card and marked me as having a reservation. Luckily for us, and surprisingly for the hosts, there were mulitple vacancies this week. Our hosts are James, Ursula, and Naphtal, and three tiny little dogs who run around being adorable.

Today in South Africa is Youth Day, which marks the anniversarry of the student uprising in Soweto on June 16, 1976, which created a state of emergency and marked a move toward the end of apartheid. It's a national holiday that closes banks and governement offices.

We drove down to the shore and walked a mile of the beachfront to the Fan Zone area. It was about 70 degrees outside and sunny, so people were fishing from the beach, swimming, and surfing. The fan zone was packed for the Chile-Honduras game but the crowd was mostly passive. For the Spain-Switzerland game happening just down the beach, we walked back to a restaraunt for some food and to watch the game on TV. I had Springbok, wrapped in chicken and covered in sherry and cream sauce. The Blonde had a chicken tangine dish marinated in lemon, with cumin and coriander sauces, served in lemons and green olives. Finally, for the South Africa - Uruguay game, we headed back to lodging and we're going to watch it on TV.

Coffee

I like coffee. I need coffee. It's safe to say I have a physical addiction to coffee and going without causes headaches and slower than usual brain function. I miss my Caribou Depth Charge coffee with a shot of espresso. But if I drink coffee in the afternoon, I can't sleep at all. Here in South Africa, someone is always offering to brew some coffee in the late evening, and though I'm sure it exists, I haven't seen decaf anywhere in the country. Also, when ordering, I'm always asked if I want hot or cold milk with it. The hot milk option threw me for a loop when I was first asked, but since I drink it black, I threw them for a loop when I ordered it that way. In a few non-airport non-touristy locations when I ordered black coffee, the response I got was, "Are you sure?".

I'm sick of WakaWaka

One of the great things about travelling to the World Cup host country is that you also get exposed to many other people besides the hosts. This morning we chatted with a Swiss gentleman over breakfast who occasionally travels to Columbus for work. In our last lodging, some Brazillians showed up who didn't speak English and the staff didn't speak Portuguese so we got an interesting show of pantomime until they could get someone on the phone who could translate. There was an English couple we watched a game with in the lobby, but since they're in Group C, there's too many English people here. At least they were all disgusted by the U.S. goal. On our flight here, a troupe of Spanish gentlemen dressed in matching jackets, black flat-topped hats, and singinng spanish songs boarded our plane.

Today, we're hitting a fanzone in Durban to watch all three games. Teams start playing their second of three games tonight, and that's when a group picture really starts to form. A bad first game can be overcome with two great games, but two bad games to start can mean you're mathematically eliminated before you're third, though you could still determine the fate of your opponent.

Today's cheering: 1.) Chile over Honduras: because for some reason I have bitter, but unspecific memories of the last USA-Honduras game. 2.) Switzerland over Spain: because there are a number of Swiss staying at our lodging, and the Spanish are too favoured. 3.) South Africa over Uruguay: because everyone is rooting for home team.

Sadzilla response

This was Sadia's response to the Ronaldo picture. I think her employer should spring for a Photoshop license...

People are strange, when you're a stranger.

South Africa's greatest natural resource is without a doubt her people. Before the trip, nearly all the sites I read spoke highly of South African hospitality, and that was before the World Cup. Undoubtedly, many of the locals are riding a wave of national pride at the opportunity to host the World Cup and show off their country.

Everywhere we've been thus far the people have been mostly cheerful, talkative, and welcoming. Even those who have no direct benefit from the tourists are jovial and engaging. In the restrooms of Johannesburg airport, the man mopping up the floor would shout to new entrants, "Welcome to my office. Come in. Have a seat."

In some cases, like driving to stadiums, they would post three or four people on each corner to give directions to each crawling car, even though a sign probably would've been just as informative and allowed traffic to flow better. South Africa's high unemployment rates surely must've taken a dip this month.

Of course there are going to be exceptions. I read in a paper this morning that a police officer in Sandton near where we were staying, pulled over a minibus with six Americans in it, claiming it was overloaded. Now, I don't know how many seats a minibus has, but it sounds like it could accomodate six. Even my diesel beast of a minivan had 6 seats, and some of these small pickup trucks are loaded with locals stacked on each other in the back. The police officer offered the Americans the opportunity to "take care of the matter on the spot for a 4,000 Rand bribe (which is a few hundred U.S. dollars), but was talked down to 1,000 Rand. The Americans then went to the local police station to report him.

In general though, the people of South Africa are so outward and friendly that an introvert like myself is getting exhausted. One of the things I'm starting the miss about the United States is that people are apathetic and avoiding of each other. There are other things I miss too, like not having to think so much when I drive, my own bed, my gym, and of course The Blonde keeps saying how much she misses her dog. I also miss my mobile phone.

World Cup Court

There's a special court here called World Cup Court that has been created specifically to deal with crimes against tourists. I'm not sure if the goal is expediency, so that travellers can get swift justice, or if its penalties will be more severe so that it serves as a deterrent.

Strike!

After returning home from the game in Johannesburg today, there was local news about two labour strikes in the country.

First, a large group of security officers went on strike claiming they were not being paid. Security in the three host cities I've seen has been immense. Groups of security and police officers roam everywhere near the public or touristy venues. Police cars and trucks are on all the roads. Small bands of police in riot gear patrol the stadiums hoping for a riot to quell. I'm not sure what effect the strike will have on that, but the reports say that those striking were detained and removed from the areas where they could cause a disturbance.

The second strike were the bus drivers. Driving a car and parking at the stadium is almost completely impossible here. Cars line up for hours only to be told that lots were sold out to pre-booking weeks in advance. Most people end up parking at a park-n-ride and catching a coach bus to and from the stadium. After waiting in a queue of cars for two hours today and getting nearly to the stadium, we were turned away and had to drive half an hour to one of the park-n-rides. After the game, we made it onto a coach bus and back to our car, but hundreds were stranded at Soccer City Stadium when bus drivers decided to go on strike because they wanted to work their normal schedule and not the World Cup event schedule.

In a totally unrelated story, one of the hostesses at our lodging is a twenty-something Afrikaaner college chick with a gorgeous accent who told us about some of the renovating before the World Cup. She says many of the roads they worked on were already in good shape. Roads that needed work were neglected so that the more popular routes could be fixed up even more. Some of the roads falling into disrepair began to get potholes, and the locals took to planting trees in the potholes. She wasn't sure why, except perhaps to make a statement, but if I see one I'll snap a picture.

Way too many blondes

Went to the Netherland-Denmark game in Johannesburg today. Soccer City Stadium is huge, and intended to resemble some sort of African bowl or something.

The crowd was more subdued than any other game so far. They remained in their seats the entire time except during close shots on goal, or when The Wave passed by. Contrast that with the USA-England game where everyone stood the entire game. Almost no one wearing Orange (Netherlands) or Red (Denmark) had a vuvuzela. Most of the horn noise came from a section of locals.

I did see probably the largest concentration of blonde people I've ever seen. For a while, I thought I might lose The Blonde in the crowd, but I had no such luck. The Blonde had to sit next to another blonde of unknown nationality (wearing neutral colours) who insisted on blowing a vuvuzela during the whole match. Probably to the chagrin of the Danish, the seats in Soccer City stadium are a bright Orange, and all of the stadium stewards were wearing bright orange coats.

Tomorrow we bid farewell to Johannesburg and head to the southeast coast city of Durban.

For Sadia

Sorry Sadia. Since I didn't have any Portugal tickets, this is the closest I could get to bringing Christiano Ronaldo back for you.

My Minivan

We've journeyed from the Mother City (Cape Town) to Jo'berg, and even had a quick sidestep to Rustenburg and back in what turned into very long day.

We checked out of the hotel, threw suitcases in the trunk, and got ready to leave the hotel parking garage for the Cape Town airport. Rather than being caught on the road without knowing where we're going, I turned to my Blonde Navigator and asked her to see the map, and of course it turns out she had packed them away in her suitcase in the trunk like any good navigator would have done.

After a delayed flight from Cape Town, we arrived at a hectic Johannesburg airport. First stop after baggage and bathrooms was the rental car pickup. In Cape Town we had a nice little Toyota four-door, which was a great vehicle to learn the left-sided world. I only grazed one wall on a tight parking garage entrance. This time the fellow says, "You're gonna like this upgrade I gave you. It's like those new Mercedes SUVs." Turns out it was a Kia Sedona minivan. It's diesel, and it's still a stickshift. This beast has not been the easiest to manuever, but I could transport a small army if needed.

Since I can only take so much punishment, I dedided to upgrade my navigator by equipping her with a GPS. The man behind the counter says, "Do you want me to show you how to use it?" and The Blonde responds, "No, it's just like my Mom's". After about 30 miles and 30 minutes of wrong turns, I finally parked at a gas station, took the GPS from her and actually made it start communicating with satellites. It worked wonderfully after that.

We checked in a gorgeous little lodging with lots of foilage, a friendly fat Rotweiller named Maxine, and super-friendly hostesses. Then we set out for the England-USA game. What was google-mapped as a 1.5 hour drive took four hours, with the last 15 miles taking up most of the time. Cars, minibusses, and my minivan inched that last miles through single-laned roads made into two-lane roads by driving on the dirt or the shoulder if it existed. Most of the others commuters weren't planning on that long of a drive either, or they wouldn't have consumed so many beers. During the crawls, people would flee from their cars to use the restroom along the roadside. Guys simply face away from the line of cars. Girls had a buddy hold up their country's flag to shield their modesty. The Blonde thought it was amusing enough to capture a picture of one example.

Driving in the South Africa is probably interesting during the normal days but during the World Cup around the stadiums it likely takes on a whole new character. I think we saw some examples of both. Driving on one of the back roads to Rustenburg, we came up behind a tow truck towing a car which was smoking, losing pieces and seemed to be barely connected to the tow truck. Also, on one of the main highways (the N1), we saw one car pulling another with a tether strap. Both of those seemed independent of World Cup traffic. When we got close to stadiums, however, traffic crawled and that proved to tedious for some people who took to driving in the grass or dirt along the highway. On single-lane highways, when driving speeds reached about 50 MPH, a car who wanted to pass would pull into the opposing lane and drive for a mile or so before returning to the flow when an oncoming car finally forced his wheel. Taxi drivers ... well, they drive the same everywhere and anytime.

We had to park about two miles from the stadium and load onto busses to be carried to the stadium. After the game, lines were long and unmoving to re-board the busses, so we walked with a huge stream of English and Americans back to the dusty field with our cars. The field was called "Phokeng North", which sounded like the English saying "Fucking North".

The atmosphere of the game was amazing. Compared to the other World Cup games, it seemed like there were a lot less Vuvuzelas, but the English and the Americans made up for it with song. For every chant, the English had a nice little song of retort, so it turned out the most effective for the Americans was just "U S A" as everyone knew the words. We were seated in the very last top row, which luckily wasn't that far up because it was a smaller stadium. (45,000 cap., I'm told.) The English goal seemed to flow amazingly against the backdrop of lousy U.S. defending. The lead up to Dempsey's goal for the U.S. was amazing as he spun away from defenders twice to take the shot. When it hit the goalie in the hands, I had assumed it was failed shot, but then it bounced happily by. The English outnumbered the U.S. fans by what seemed 3 to 1, and they were not at all happy after that.

Driving back to Johannesburg was only a three-hour experience, even though I must've been speeding in my minivan at some points. There were some backups where someone went right of center and smashed head-on into an oncoming car, or when we were forced to the left by motorcades of police cars and coach busses which we guessed were transporting teams. It's hard to speed at 3 AM when you're dead tired, and the highway is unlit, and fog rolls in, but I was in the capable hands of my navigator who only once read the GPS and told me to veer right. I realized fairly quickly that it was an oncoming lane, applied the brakes and steered into a flat grassy area. The alignment got a little tweaked up, but unlike the first rental, there was no sticker that said "treat me like I'm yours", so it must be fine. Today I grazed a pillar with my passenger mirror in a shopping mall parking lot, but I set karma right by paying the girl in the parking to wash the dust off the car. Apparently, a hand wash is a service offered in the parking garage. My minivan LOOKS great.

Upon returning, The Blonde wanted to call her mother and let her know the drive was okay. Well, it turns out that when she was pulling passports, my cigar, my laptop, and the game tickets from the safe back in Cape Town, she didn't see my phone in that vast,spacious hotel-room safe and so it was left behind. (Which is one reason I didn't want to bring the phone at all.) So, to those who thought they were getting check-in after the Rustenburg drive, ignore everything I said above about the driving and just know that it was peachy. And it was kind of like we were in a Mercedes SUV, right?

Bafana Bafana

We're back from the France-Uruguay game and I brought back an incredible headache fueled by the cold and those stupid vuvuzelas.

First we went to the spectator zone where everyone was rooting for South Africa to beat Mexico. If there were any Mexicans present, they were wearing South African jerseys and keeping a low profile. When South Africa scored the first goal, the place went wild, people cheered "Bafana Bafana", and even the rest of the city had a roar to it. Towards the end, Mexico levelled up and it deflated the atmosphere a little bit, but most still seemed content with a draw.

Then we set off for our main event at Green Point Stadium. It was a very short walk since we chose a spectator zone nearby, but we soon ran into an unorganized mass of people who had no delusions they were in a line. People pushed in from all sides to enter the single-file walkways. We only had to travel about 20 meters to get from one side of the mass to the other, but everyone was shuffling along and stealing half a step whenever the crowd inched forward.

Unsurprisingly, the first real douchebags in the mass turned out to be Americans. They were the only Americans nearby and were twenty-somethings who had been drinking and amused themselves by mocking other peoples' accents. They pushed their way through the crowd faster than anyone and it was easy to see how a trampling could have been started in that situation. If they had been the ones trampled, I'm sure their families would've lamented the loss without ever having known what total assholes they were. That's not to say the Americans were the only jerkwads in the mass. Of noter were some French, Uruguayans, and Australians.

The game was exciting, even though we were situated between two different groups of older English who shared our calm, unpassionate demeanor throughout the game. I have a hard time imagining open-air tickets better than the ones we had. We were perhaps one seat to the right of the midfield line and we were three rows back on the second deck, looking down on the entire field. If you watched the game on television, we were directly across from the camera. You may have seen a row of English and Americans who didn't jump out of their seats every other second.

Tomorrow morning we say goodby to Cape Town and fly to Johannesburg. Around Noon here we'll land in Joberg, rent a car, check into our lodging, and then set off again for a two-hour drive to Rustenburg to see the USA beat England. Afterwards, it's a two-hour car ride back with likely a similar headache to the one I have now. It's likely that we'll be moving non-stop until midnight tomorrow, when we return from the USA. Future internet connectivity is unknown at this point, but we'll almost certainly have it by the June 18th. Everyone back in the States had better be watching the games. I'm going to be asking you if Uruguay handled the ball in the box late in the game. They don't show any replays in the stadium for fear of swaying referee decisions or something.

Quotes from the day...

- Stadium Announcer: "Substitution for Paraguay, I mean Uruguay..."
Uruguayans in Crowd: "Boooooooo"

- The Blonde: "Was that a Butterfly kick?
Me:
The Blonde: "I mean a Bicycle kick"

We are two wild and crazy guys.

There are tons of people out. Crowds fill every sidewalk. Lines of traffic sound their horns, and the people on the sidewalk sound back with their vuvezas.

We've bought tickets for a spectator zone, which differs slightly from the other Fan Zones in that it has a chairs and tables, serves a meal if you buy a meal voucher, and isn't in a canvas tent. Instead, there are slightly more permanent plastic walls. It's also a little more expensive (200R) than some of the other zones (20R). There's a goal setup with a spedometer so that people can test the speed of their kicks, and it looks like Sony is setting up some LCDs to play FIFA10.

I hit the same ATM I've been using, and it gave me bills in 200R notes. However, South Africa recently re-issued their 200R notes, and most of the vendors are confused about whether they're allowed to accept 200R notes (even though mine are the new ones). Nedbank, who owned the ATM, was not very helpful in that they just said it's legal tender and the vendors have to accept them. I suspect there's a shortage of other notes in circulation at the moment, so I'm changing out the 200R notes whenever I find a vendor that knows what's going on.

The Blonde just read a flyer for a topless bus tour around Cape Town, but figured out on her own (after a few seconds) that it meant the double-decker buses without a top on them and not people without shirts.

We're off to the Spectator zone as the first game starts in three hours. If you read about another trampling, it probably isn't us.

More news of South Africa

More sad South Africa news ahead of the World Cup. Nelson Mandela's 13-year old great granddaughter killed in a crash on her way home from World Cup opening ceremony festivities.

I've got my spine, I've got my Orange Crush.

Fan Zone crush in Cape Town. I wasn't there. I was watching from the comfort of my own Fan Zone in my hotel suite.

Yes, that's a pirate ship.

Every day, the crowds have grown and grown and each day has been busier than the last. Finally, with one day left until the games start, we decided to stay close to the hotel and have some fine dining that the locals call beer and pizza. We crossed the street to a local Italian Pizzareia, through a group of six to eight soccer fans of mixed nationality chatting about who they're supporting. We rounded a corner, entered the pizzareia, and were seated immediately. Within three minutes a small police car with flashing lights sped to the small side-street we had just crossed. Moments later a van with flashing lights followed. We were ordering, so I couldn't check it out immediately, but after our waiter walked away, I ducked out to see the commotion but all that remained was the van with flashing lights and nobody around.

Today was the last touristy day before the opening ceremonies. To kill off this last day of pre-tournament waiting, we hit some of the famous sites near Cape Town: Robben Island and Table Mountain.

First off was a tour of Robben Island, which required a 20-30 minute ferry trip on the Sea Princess. Lining up (queuing) for the ferry and winding through the building to board eventually led us to an unexpected security checkpoint with metal detector and handbag x-ray. For the games I expect this, but the ferry ride took me by surprise, so I had to ditch one of the staples of prison life before I could go to this island prison; The Shiv. This was a sharp, distinctly metal implement I was carrying just in case I needed to defend myself in a foreign country. I ducked out of line into a restroom before the checkpoint and went into a stall. The only other person was a French guy who had stopped at the "Hot Dog King" stand before the trip and was brushing his teeth before the ferry ride. Above the toilet and eye level was a small vent on the back wall where I dropped my metal implement, leaving the leather strap sticking out just slightly for potential retrieval. Then it was off to prison. (It turns out they had me walk through the metal detector with a handful of pocket change, so it probably wasn't even turned on.)

Robben Island was fascinating. After disembarking from the ferry, we were loaded onto buses, where the clattering of many different voices in many different languages provided an orchestra of beautiful nonsense for the ear. And after the orchestra, it was time for the solo. Our first guide boarded and spoke in probably the most amazing oratorical voice I've ever heard. Stood on the bus as we drove around the island and tied every nationality on the bus to the history of Robben Island. (One of his jokes: Why do Indians never win at football? Every time they get a corner, they open up a shop.) After the bus tour, we arrived at the prison complex on the island and were walked through the different areas by a former inmate named Jama. We were shown the large communal cells and the private single cells, including a walk past Nelson Mandela's cell. (Pic). If you happen to travel to Cape Town when the World Cup isn't happening, then Robben Island is by far the most important thing to see. Once we're back, The Blonde ducked into the gift shop, and I ducked back into my bathroom stall and retrieved my pointy shard.

After the ferry ride back, and with daylight still to spare, it was time for a drive to Table Mountain. This is the huge flat-topped mountain which features prominently in the Cape Town scenery. If I find out how to mail postcards from here, some of you will probably get one featuring this massive rock. The trip involved driving up a windy road to a cable car station situated only a quarter of the way up the mountain. An sharp incline up the rotating cable car took us to the top of this immense table where you could see nearly everything around. If you look at the picture, the tiny little bump you on top and to the right of the flat portion is the destination of the cable car.

This driving portion of this journey was perhaps one of the most frustrating parts of the entire trip because it turns out The Blonde is an absolutely horrible navigator. She drives poorly in the States, so I was reticent to let her drive here. However, it turned out she's even worse at guiding a driver. I'm driving a stick, in a foreign country, on a different side of the road, and to say that it takes a bit of my concentration would be an understatement. I'm focusing almost entirely on lining up my car with the lines on the right instead of the left, merging from three lanes to two and back again, not hitting cavalier and drunken pedestrians, and a number of other random occurrences. She is tasked with identifying our location and telling me when a turn is coming. However, she would occasionally pull out the video camera or fold up the map as if the journey was over. Even when the map was open, identifying our location or even the general orientation of the map was near impossible. This is why she's only in charge of changing CDs during the carpool to work.

Tomorrow, South Africa opens up against Mexico and we'll be standing in a fanzone wearing our newly acquired South African jerseys rooting on the Home Team, before heading to our first game in the evening between France and Uruguay. Having been around some French and Uruguayans today, it's hard to pick a favourite based on the characters that have been walking around. Instead I'm going to have to root for the one that has more players I know, which is France. But as long as it's a good game, I'll be happy.

There are reports that known hooligans are being arrested back in England for trying to leave the country in a supposed attempt to travel to the World Cup and even some people who were pulled off planes immediately after landing in Johannesburg. I expect they're culling most of the bad apples, and unfortunately maybe even some good ones. I'm not sure why they'd risk a ten-year ban to any football matches just to come start a fight, but maybe some of those fights are just drunken by-products. I'd also hate to be marked for ten years just because I fought back against some drunken hooligans.

Finally, on a sad note, SkyNews reported that a bus carrying twenty or so Britons overturned in the North East area of South Africa today, and three college students were killed. It's a sad way to start the tournament and thoughts and prayers go out to their families.

Send in the Clowns

A clown amongst clowns ...

Still counting down ...

A sea wind is blowing in across Cape Town tonight in this first month of their winter. Today was billed as cloudy by weather.com, which means there were two big clouds in the sky; both at the top of Table Mountain. We suspect the mountain provides some sort of updraft keeping the clouds in place. Unfortunately, that might mean visibility from the viewing point is the last thing to clear up and it's only scenic on the clearest of days.

I'm sitting on my hotel balcony with a Cuban, while The Blonde does laundry. The kitchen in this first hotel suite has washer and dryer, in a single drum, in one of the cupboards. I expected to make it a little longer without having to resort to clean clothes, but this is a wash of convenience.

Woke up this morning to about an hour of constant horn-blowing from the annoying Vuvuzelas, the single-note plastic horns that are super-popular here. These are probably the single most annoying thing ever invented and being in a stadium full of them is going to be horrible, but The Blonde brought Advil so we'll survive.

Dinner tonight was at a Portuguese restaraunt called Tasca. I had an amazing Chorizo-like sausage called Chorico, which was delivered on a dish set aflame. Many of the restaraunts on The Waterfront have outdoor propane flame or electric heaters, like a ski resort. I'm not sure if they do this every winter, or if this is to accomodate the crowds of foreigners who are here at this time of year for the World Cup. Sat next to a table of three U.S. American guys who are going to three of the same games we are and The Blonde chatted with them about whatever it is she talks to people about.

Today was a relaxing day while we wait for Soccer to start. We were too late to book a ferry trip over to Robben Island, The South African Alcatraz where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned. However, we did secure two tickets for it tomorrow. It is selling out quick.

Instead, we hit the Cape Town Aquarium, which is by far the most interesting aquarium I've ever been to. If The Blonde allows, I captured a neat video of her crawling into a circular aquarium of Clown fish (Nemos) and smacking her head on the tank. Evidently it was meant for kids, but she's an unstoppable terror.

Tomorrow is one more day of touristy nonsense before non-stop games start. Definitely Robben Island and maybe Table Mountain, as the forecast is Sunny. It's probably still going to be chilly, but they use some nonsense degree scale that is beyond American comprehension.

Karibu and Pretty

Just returned for the evening from dinner on The Waterfront at Karibu, which a handy little glossary in the menu told us meant "Welcome". But even without our cheat sheet in the menu, we had Pretty. Pretty was our pretty waitress from Zimbabwe who had been living in South Africa for the last two years. She was a lively girl who wanted to travel all over. We told her all about the US ... well New York, L.A. and Texas ... and she told us about Zimbabwe and South Africa. She also taught us a few phrases in some of the other many languages she knew, but unfortunately I can barely remember English on my best days, so I've lost all the phrases.

The pre-Cup warmup games are interesting and fun to watch, but I'm itching for the tournament to start. We talked briefly with one South Africa fellow at a Portuguese restaurant next door to where we ate. There had been a bunch of Mexican fans singing "Ole Ole Ole" through dinner. He remarked that "Come Friday (When South Africa plays Mexico), they'll be crying". It's going to be fun. On the flip side, news of yesterday stated that a group of Argentinian hooligans had been arrested for causing some trouble, but I guess it's easy to get cocky when you've got the Hand of God on your side.

On the Netbook power sidestory: It turns out that ridiculous power adapter Frankenstein was not working. The power would flow for about 30 seconds, then start fluctuating, then cease. However, (Travel Tip) it turns out that most laptops made in the last few years are dual-voltage, meaning they will work on 110v or 220v. To know for sure, I'd recommend checking your laptop vendor's website, but I don't always practice that sort of diligence. I wouldn't plug it in without a converter before because I didn't want to risk frying my netbook. However, just the possibility that a netbook could be dual-voltage was enough for me to throw caution to the wind.

Roaming Cape Town

After a slow start (mostly because of a slow Blonde), we set to walking around Cape Town with somewhat vague goals. We wanted to walk in the general direction of Green Point stadium, where our first match will be held on Friday between Uruguay and France. This took us through the Waterfront which was mostly shopping, dining, touristy stuff.

The weather promised rain, and it did not disappoint. Even though the day started with blue skies, eventually clouds rolled over and a downpour started. We were having a bite to eat on the waterfront in an outdoor cafe with umbrella tables when one downpour started. The wait staff immediately sprung into action, as if they had drilled for the scenario, running to clear the tables which were not under umbrellas.

We did some shopping for gifts and such, but only cursory walkthroughs of places like Louis Vuitton, Burberry, Gucci. In some places, it seems every other store is a World Cup merchandise store. As far as looking like a tourist, we're not as obvious as many of the people walking around with World Cup or their country's team gear on. It's not that easy to spot other U.S. Americans as I thought it would be. The English stand out much more. Occasionally though, I'll do something stupid and touristy (See Pics).





Driving on left wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. The hardest parts was that I kept using the windshield wipers as turn signals because someone put them on the wrong side of the steering column. It's harder to walk across the street as a pedestrian than it is to drive.

Finally, we made it to Green Point stadium, which is in a very walkable distance from the hotel. In fact, one of the Fan-walk paths passes right outside our hotel, which should be interesting come game day. Most of it is temporarily fenced off and there was a bunch of Press and Fireman briefings happening, so we couldn't scope it out, but The Blonde did get to compare firemen here to firemen back home. Even during the half-mile walk to the stadium, there were still tons of crews here and there doing last minute landscaping, temporary fencing, or construction of a Merchandise City -- a row of shanty shacks lined up along the main road with a single fold-down window out of which to sell merch.

The power situation may be sorted. (See pic) That's my netbook cord, going into a US (to US) adapter, going into a power converter, going into a South African adapter, and then into the wall. However, the netbook is reporting that the AC power is coming and going, so charging it is going to be an idle-time effort.

Cape Town

Arrived in Johannesburg after an 11 hour flight from London, then straight on to Cape Town. At this point, the 2-hour trip to Cape Town was cake. The 11 hour flight from London was easier than the 6 hour flight to London. I even got to watch the 1966 World Cup final between England and West Germany, which proves that a good game in black and white on a 8-inch seat-back screen is still a good game.

Turns out the power converter brought by The Blonde only accepts an American two-blade plug. My laptop, from which these updates spring forth, has one of those nasty third prongs, so it cannot be charged. Updates will likely be short and sweet until a workaround can be devised. 220 should be twice as good as 110, no?

More will come when the power situation gets sorted.

Peace, from Cape Town.

Over There... Over There ...

Landed in London an eternity ago. Flying across the Atlantic expanse was a little more painful than it needed to be. Instead of being sat next to lovely-accented English chicks who would chat me up for the 6 hour flight, I got to sit next to two Brit Brat Brothers who fought over armrests, created mysterious wetness on the seat and floor, and didn't bother even looking for their shoes until everyone but me and them had deplaned. Their mother was about as useless as she could be, but she was a row behind us keeping the third brother very well behaved.

The Blonde had an aisle seat right next to the stewardess cabin (lucky!), but had a crying baby next to her. I explained the previous M*A*S*H* post to her before the flight, but I'm not sure if that crossed her mind at all.

Grand plans of spending the twelve-hour London layover seeing the city were squashed by my jetlag and lack of sleep next to the BBB's. Instead, we hunted high and low in the Heathrow lounges for uncomfortable seats without armrests in between, so I could lay down and take a nap. Three 1-hour naps later, and I'm coming out of the painful post-flight phase and drifting back into the bored-airport phase.

The next leg should run about 11 hours, but this time I sit next to The Blonde. That will definitely be more pleasant than another BBB experience, but maybe not as relaxing as say a surprise First-Class upgrade. We'll be flying out of England, across The Channel, on D-Day so I'm been humming "Over There" to myself. Apropos for both historically today, and as a theme of this two-week World Cup tour.

Heathrow is a mixed bag. Maybe because I'm not looking to pick up anything from Burberry or Tiffany & Co. The people-watching is interesting though. Flying in, the only club stadium I could identify was Fulham FC's, and that was probably only because of the big LG and the word "Fulham" visible from the plane.

Cheerio, ya wankers ....

How about them Apples?

Landed in NYC and spending more airport time, which in this case means airport-bar time.

The first hop (of 10 total) was uneventful, and I believe SkyMall is coasting in the innovation department. How many doggie stairs and inversion tables can they sell before the market has been satiated by accessible dogs and upside-down people? Delta's "Sky" magazine, on the other hand, did have a surprising amount of info about the World Cup, South Africa, and Charlize Theron's favourite foods.

Beyond the air-commute lit, the only other thing was a screaming baby while we circled JFK for an eternity. I'm ashamed to say it made me think of that dark M*A*S*H* episode where it turned out to not be a chicken on the bus. You M*A*S*H*-heads know what I'm talking about. I've been watching too much syndicated television.

My biological clock

Last night I was determined to prep myself for being six hours ahead of normal. My goal was to wake up at 04:00 so that I wouldn't sleep away the daylight hours in South Africa.

Well, a little late television checked my reality enough that I moved my alarm up to 05:00. Surely, that was realistic. ... but when my alarm went off at 05:00, and then 05:09, and 05:18, I should've conceded victory to the snooze button. I didn't though. I granted myself nine more minutes for almost the next three hours.

So I didn't wake myself up early to prepare for the time jump, but I did wear myself out enough give it another try tommorow; the first day of travel.

Here come the Yanks

In 2006, I was a little too un-organized and slow to plan a Germany World Cup trip. After the 2006 final, I was committed to making a South Africa 2010 trip happen, and unless an Icelandic volcano intervenes, it looks like South Africa is a few days away.

Since I'll be half a world away, I've adopted cutting edge technology of the early 2000's and created a blog to update certain people on my adventure. I expect this blog will fall into disrepair shortly after the trip concludes, but it's a convenient tool during the voyage. If the updates stop shy of my return, I'm probably still okay, but the task of updating will just have proven too draining for my limited attention span.

Remember to watch the games; There's a 1 in 72 chance I'll be streaking the pitch. (Check your bookie for updated odds.)