56. The chief of police.

I was going to carry on writing about owls today, but then something in the news caught my eye. This man is called Mzwandile Petros. In fact he is called Liutenant General Mzwandile Petros. He’s a policeman.

No, he's not Greek.

No, he’s not Greek.

He’s a very important policeman. He is the chief of police of South Africa’s Gauteng province, its richest and most densely populated. It’s where I live. Mr Petros (or is that Lieutenant General Petros?) has just had a most unfortunate experience. He was robbed. Sort of. Continue reading

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50. The Tokolosh.

I have just come back from a night away in a game reserve in South Africa’s Limpopo province. It’s a strange old place. It’s a bit of a backwater in South Africa. It doesn’t have any big cities, and the provincial government is riddled with corruption and incompetence. But that doesn’t mean that nothing interesting goes on there. On the contrary. For example there has, of late, been a sudden and massive surge in sales of coloured salt in the Limpopo. Special salt. This salt;

As subtle as it is effective.

As subtle as it is effective.

Continue reading

34. The visitor

Something really cool happened the other night. Mrs 23thorns and I were sitting outside having a glass of wine on the stoep (patio). The stoep has a roof over it, and we had the lights on, but the garden was almost in darkness. All of a sudden, two enormous, tawny wings spread out on either side of her head, framing her like some sort of Celtic nature goddess with glasses on.

Luckily I was able to snap off a quick photo.

Luckily I was able to snap off a quick photo.

Continue reading