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The day came to leave and we, my mother and I, caught the train which would ultimately take us to Capetown, a train where one booked a compartment in which one read, ate, slept and washed for tedious days on end. The hand-basin was hinged on the door and one tipped it up to empty… Continue reading Africa 1928 – 30, The journey to the Cape

In the then Northern Rhodesia. On film today it is certainly majestic, but to see the immensity, the rush of water, hear the noise and feel the constant rain of the spray in those simple, uncluttered days, is an unforgettable lifetime’s experience. The descriptions of The Victoria Falls runs to 11 pages on the Internet;… Continue reading The Victoria Falls

I repeatedly find that the departments of the government, and local authorities issue edicts that conflict with another, or with every day practices. We were goaded at one time to switch off the idle lights on TVs and other equipment in order to save the world. What I find absurd, is that there seems to… Continue reading Conflicting Standards

I may be telling you something that you are well aware of, but I think it well worth voicing it again for the benefit of those who have been too busy to take time to contemplate. I for ever seem to be amazed at the way in which the world and we within it, have… Continue reading Vandalism and our amazing World

I had always thought that fairytales were for the entertainment of the young. My definition of a fairytale is that it is an imaginative story not based on fact, generally gentle in concept, amusing, and with an element of danger as the spice. Now I find that we are being presented with a double diet… Continue reading Fairytales circa 2010

With no homework, I had a long afternoon to put in. Ocassionally a few friends and I would go outside the limits placed by our parents, through the tall grasses of the Veldt, along wide deep drainage ditches waiting in their dusty state for the next onslaught of the monsoon rains. It was exciting creeping… Continue reading Africa 1928 – 30 A smal boy’s introduction to killing

They tell me that once a racist, always a racist, and they may be right. Brought up in the British Raj it is hard to eschew old habits so when I say ‘boys’, I mean men, big black ones at that, in this context anyway – although I have since been taught the error of… Continue reading Africa 1928 – 30, The car as a Boy cartrier

Rugby Was Certainly A Culture Shock Prior to leaving England for Africa, the only male member of our family whom I had any regular contact with was my grandfather and he was rarely in the house when I was awake. Hence I had never heard of Rugby, as in those days it was mostly a… Continue reading Africa 1928 – 30, Rugby and the sergical saw

Livingstone From the age of six until I was eight years old, I lived in Livingstone, Northern Rhodesia, as part of the British Raj, although then it was not thought of in that way, even if we behaved so. As a little boy, lifted out of a simple, stable environment, dumped into a totally rarefied… Continue reading Africa 1928 – 30, Arrival

My regular readers will be aware that I have been ill in the last three months and in consequence have not been writing on a regular basis, but I now intend to change that in a radical way. Over the years I have said more or less everything I intended to say that illustrated a… Continue reading Auther’s Note