Click on image to see larger version.*
* Top to bottom:
Kulula Go See website copy for King James
Emerging Contractors booklet for DSVH
Maya Delice brochure for Inoui, Bahrain
Transnet One magazine lead story for Mikateko
Mr Price credit character idea for Modern Museum
Transnet One magazine lead story for Mikateko
Reebok pitch billboard
Johnnie Walker Urban Golf booklet for King James
Pop psych writing in Funk magazine
White Collar Crime Summit PR for Topco Media
Mr Price Home for Modern Museum
Economic overview in "Impumelelo" for Topco Media
Vilankulos Resorts brochure copy for Roots
Umngazi River Bungalows brochure copy for Science
Margie Orford profile for Sunday Times
Johnnie Walker Striding Man campaign for King James
Cape Union Mart storefront concept for King James
Herbology relaunch copy for Roots
Rehidrat interactive web banner concepts for JWT.
Relevant clients, companies and designers retain their rights to featured work.
SOME OF THE BRANDS I'VE WORKED ON (1997 - 2009)
Reebok (Freelance Pitch Strategy)
Sun International (BTL/Radio)
Melrose (BTL/Promotions)
Simonsberg (BTL/Promotions)
Plascon (Brand Strategy)
Smith & Nephew (BTL/Medical)
Greater St. Lucia Wetlands Park (TTL Brand Pitch – Won)
Johnnie Walker (TTL)
Bell’s Whisky (BTL)
Umngazi (BTL)
Debonairs (BTL)
Baileys (BTL/Radio)
Mrs Ball’s (ATL Freelance)
East Coast Radio (TTL Brand Pitch)
Boxer Superstores (BTL)
Windhoek Lager (TTL/Promotions)
Allan Gray (BTL)
Herbology (TTL/Freelance/Re-launch)
Levi Strauss (BTL)
TNS (BTL)
BMW (Public Relations/Eventing)
Maya Delice (BTL, Bahrain)
Bylsbridge.com (Brand Strategy/TTL Launch)
EDMA (Re-branding/New Zealand)
Kulula.com (TTL)
Mama (www/Launch)
Southdowns Lifestyle Centre (Brand Strategy/TTL)
Ackerman’s (BTL)
Mr Price (Brand Strategy/TTL all divisions)
N.W.J. (BTL)
Rusty (BTL)
Cape Union Mart (BTL)
Galaxy Jewellers (BTL)
Milady’s (BTL)
Sencida Network (Corporate Comms)
The Space (BTL/www)
The Hub (BTL/Brand pitch – won))
Sheet Street (TTL/Re-launch)
Top Women in Business & Government (Corporate Comms)
Top 500 South Africa’s Top Companies (Corporate Comms)
Impumelelo (Corporate Comms)
Ffly (BTL/Launch)
Continental Tyre (TTL)
Red Cap Foundation (BTL)
Cape Argus (BTL/Ambient)
Blue Bulls (Re-branding)
Dunn’s (BTL)
Pushplay (BTL)
Unilever (BTL/Promotions/Freelance)
Unilever Network (Corporate Comms/Freelance/Brand pitch-won)
Brutal Fruit (BTL/Promotion/Freelance)
Swazi Air (Strategy/Re-launch/Freelance)
Tyson Properties (BTL/Freelance)
Drake & Scull F.M (Corporate Comms)
Peroni (BTL/Promotion/Freelance)
Triopsis (www/Re-launch/UK)
Sandvik (Creative Consultation/Sweden/Freelance)
Toolbox (BTL)
Durban Designer Collection (TTL)
A.L.C. (BTL/Freelance)
Euphony (Corporate Comms/U.K.)
Sunderland F.C. (Corporate Comms/U.K.)
House of Paint (BTL/Freelance)
Sol Resorts (BTL/Freelance)
Cannon Asset Managers (Corporate Comms/Freelance)
Defy (TTL)
Mpilisweni (Corporate Comms)
Predictive Text (Naming/Freelance)
BeanBag Bohemia (BTL)
Simple Skin Defence (TTL)
Continental Deli (BTL/Freelance)
Esse (www)
African Organics (labelling)
Bridge Shipping (pitch)
DSVH (brochure)
Hootch (conceptual input)
27.1.08
7.1.08
WRITING STYLES
Pike Communication's expertise is that of the genuine "wordsmith". Pike's market value - and word of mouth reputation - depends on the WORDS. There's a lot here, but scroll down to see the scope of writing projects Pike Communication can credibly handle - corporate writing from business letters to editorial, company profiles, PR events, online work, radio and TV, lifestyle journalism, print advertising and more. No job too big; no job too small.
COMPANY PROFILES
Hang Ten >
In 1960, San Diego-based surfer Duke Boyd asked a dressmaker to make him some shorts. Not just any shorts, but a pair that would stand up to the rigours of surfing the Pacific swell.
So was born the original California board short, with two little feet sown onto the shorts to symbolise the ultimate surfing maneuver – when a rider positions himself on the very top of the board, toes over the edge. To Duke’s surprise, the feet icon grew to become the definition of laid-back Californian style - a style and look which spread worldwide to form the bedrock of beach culture, everywhere.
Boyd laid down the definitions of what exactly constituted a Hang Ten garment. Today, we still follow Duke’s vision for Hang Ten.
Firstly, a Hang Ten garment has got to be comfortable, because you’re probably going to live in it a lot. It’s got to be tough enough to handle the elements, and of course a bit of salt water. Most of all, a Hang Ten garment needs to retain the spirit of original Californian beach culture - while still reflecting the trends of today - whatever ‘today’ today might be.
While our product is always surf-inspired, it’s equally at home in your local hangout or the nearest happening night spot. It’s the personality that counts. Hang Ten gear is authentic, retro-contemporary and affordable, and if it was any more relaxed it would be having a kip in the shade.
Herbology >
How’s it going?
Given the stress we all deal with thanks to today’s hectic lifestyle – long hours, financial pressures, domestic responsibilities and more – chances are you’re feeling just a tad run down at the moment. Possibly, your sex drive is in a lower gear than it should be. When you got up this morning, maybe your neck had a bit of an unwelcome crick in it – and, of course, there are those persistent, niggling worries at the back of your mind…
Nature to the rescue
Herbology was established to meet the demands of today’s lifestyle, with a range of effective herbal remedies. Our beneficial ingredients are researched and sourced by a panel of credible health experts, who combine age-old herbal wisdom with the latest scientific processes, for maximum effectiveness.
Help yourself
Browse our full product range and discover the combination of Herbology products that best meets your specific needs. After all, while we all share the modern lifestyle, we each have our different problems. It’s only natural to need a bit of assistance for today’s lifestyle.
Bylsbridge >
Between the busy metropoles of Johannesburg and Tshwane lies an area affectionately known for its relaxed, semi-rural atmosphere: Irene. And it is here in Irene that BylsBridge, a new lifestyle development, is taking shape.
With an integration of corporate, residential, bespoke retail and leisure spaces, BylsBridge raises the benchmark for multi-use development in South Africa . It offers a healthier, more logical way to live, in which the places people normally travel long distances to get to, now nestle side by side.
The corporate district of BylsBridge forms the core of a new business hub, with the inclusion of large purpose designed office spaces for multinational companies and more compact zones for entrepreneurial ventures or small businesses. Here there is no “uptown” or “downtown” in the traditional sense, but rather an environment designed to encourage performance.
The bespoke business office spaces and versatile interiors engineered to suit particular industries or professionals mean that BylsBridge can cater for a range of requirements. There are no cramped or isolated office areas here. Instead, corporate areas are designed to create a relaxed, spacious environment in which to work. With the inclusion of open spaces, natural light and access to a town square bordered by health-conscious eateries and social venues, BylsBridge is a logical move for companies wanting to move out of saturated business centres, or those wanting to secure a more comfortable, more enjoyable workspace.
BylsBridge is founded on the ideals of semi-urban living:
Proximity to areas of rehabilitated natural greenery, as well as the best of urban amenities; security – without being isolated from the surrounding community; a healthy, unrestricted environment in which to work, shop, exercise or reside. This is a comfort-driven environment, where interior and exterior spaces complement each other and residences are designed to individuals’ wishes, all in harmony with the highveld. Here residents can enjoy the benefit of a community spirit in the attractive public spaces, as well as the necessary privacy of exclusively designed personal spaces. The wide range of residential options stretches from “lock up and go” units finished to a high level of quality, to large open plan residences that enclose private courtyards filled with greenery. With family life in mind, those who come to visit BylsBridge residents will also be able to make use of a world-class hotel within the development, which will cater both for corporate and private clients.
CORPORATE EDITORIALS
Eexecutive Profile for Top Companies >
The Wisdom of Youth: Yolanda Cuba
One of South Africa’s most powerful CEO’s, with a responsibility for 25000 staff and multi-billion Rand deals, she’s also one of the youngest. Yet Yolanda Cuba’s years are mirrored by remarkable sagacity and an undeniable track record.
Looking back over her thirty years and an awe-inspiring list of achievements, Yolanda Cuba must often be aware of the huge strides she has taken since her childhood days in “Gugs”. Not that it’s gone to her head. In fact, you would struggle to find a more down to earth, self-depreciating corporate leader. Perhaps there’s a lesson in that. Perhaps you shouldn’t get to lead thousands of people, unless you have the ability to also remain “one of the people”.
The youthful CEO of Mvelaphanda - the JSE-listed, broad-based, black-controlled, owned and managed group - grew up in Cape Town’s Gugulethu with two siblings, both of whom she remains extremely close to. Raised by two lawyers, Yolanda Cuba recently spoke of her “Journey to the Top and Lessons Learnt,” as a guest on the UCT Graduate School of Business’s renowned Distinguished Speakers Programme.
Research on the internet describes how she was born in 1977; a time when corporate success, for most township kids, probably seemed less tangible than approaching sirens or tear gas over the corrugated iron roofs. Yet the young Yolanda Cuba must have possessed that certain type of vision that sees not what is – but all that could be. As a child, for example, she had often looked up at the poster of a red sports car on her bedroom wall and thought with conviction “one day, that’s going to be my car!”
Like many individuals who go on to achieve at a unique level, Yolanda Cuba faced her future with more ambition than fear; greater optimism than most and enough energy to take her as far as her dreams could visualise. As children, many of us tend to imagine becoming astronauts or movie stars, whereas Yolanda Cuba had more interest in, say, Reserve Bank governor Tito Mboweni's job. Her vision certainly encompassed lofty goals – but not, compared to some of us, impossible goals. Ambition, twinned with the determination to work hard and realise that ambition, would prove Cuba’s key to the future.
In the early 90’s, just as South Africa was turning an historic corner out of its recent, blighted past, she was matriculating at Sans Souci and enrolling for a BComm in Statistics at UCT. This three-year degree, during which she waitressed at Café Africa, took her to 1997 and a BComm (Hons) degree at University of Kwazulu-Natal. Then she forged ahead into her next challenge: training for Chartered Accountancy. Today, she remains one of less than 300 black, female chartered accountants in South Africa.
It was during the years 1998 to 2003 that Cuba’s star really began to ascend, due to her unflagging work ethic, canny decision-making ability and consistent reliability.Fortunately, serendipity also allowed that she was able put these attributes into effect at a time when doors where beginning to open for black women - and indeed for all South Africans. This was the era for young achievers of all colours to begin carving their niche. As Cuba still emphasises today after several trips abroad - there remain few places in the world as exciting as South Africa, where incredible opportunities exist for those who want them. Nowadays, perhaps some of us take tend to opportunities for granted; Cuba, by contrast, never did.
She seized each one that came her way with both appreciative hands.
In five years of forward momentum, Cuba worked for a wide range of companies, including Fisher Hoffman (where she completed articles) and Durban-based Robertsons Foods. Here, she says, she was always looking for something else to do - more responsibility; more pace. In fact, she was one of few Robertsons Brand Managers to ever be placed in charge of two brands rather than one. Cuba also became involved in a number of development companies, where she gave assistance and advice on strategic investment solutions and structuring. She still sits on the boards of Rebserve Cleaning Services, Abvest, Lifecare, TFMC and Royal Foods Sechaba. Not having had a background of money or privilege, she continued to work her way forward with versatility and reliability.
Reliability is something that truly pays off in the corporate world. Reliability – and that something extra. Perhaps it’s simply a bit of hunger, a sparkle in the eye and the enthusiasm to always deliver more than the basic job description. Having proven herself on various testing grounds, Cuba rapidly moved up to a whole new level, as her more recent achievements show:
• Named Fidentia Businesswoman of the Year 2006
• Appointed as a non-executive Director on the boards of both Absa Group and Absa Bank (December 2006)
• The wunderkind promotion to CEO at Mvelaphanda (July 2007)
• Equally impressive, given her obvious time pressures – a December 2007 marriage to entrepreneur Ndzondeleo Mtyi
• One of thirteen South Africans to make the list of the World Economic Forum’s “Young Global Leaders” (March 2008).
GOVERNMENT
An overview written for Top Performing Companies >
Never a Dull Moment
“We will continue to step up investment in infrastructure that will drive long term growth, we will continue to expand and improve the quality of public services…we will continue to take the necessary steps to protect the poor and most vulnerable. We take these steps because we know that the storm will pass. Liduduma lidlule. We do this because we will always put people first.” Minister of Finance Trevor Manuel
It’s been an unpredictable year within the South African government, with high profile court cases, surprise dismissals and breakaway factions in its ruling party. Despite this, the massive task of running a country has continued doggedly at both national and provincial level, as it must. Whatever 2009 brings – and a word we’ll hear a lot in the coming year is “elections” – this is a good time to honour recent successes within government (whether by sung or unsung heroes); because doing so reminds us that government is a body as well as a head - and if the body remains healthy, it can adapt to change.
In October 2008, government released the results of its “Fifteen Year Review” which presented a broad look at the progress, since 1994’s advent of democracy, of improving the quality of life of all South Africans.
Government presented the review as an open opportunity for "social partners and citizens at large not only to articulate their own views on these critical matters, but also to assess the impact of their own activities on social dynamics within our nation and further a field."
The review looked particularly at progress in the last five years and examined major trends in society, including household size and structure; economic activity as well as “migration; structural unemployment; social cohesion; inequality; state legitimacy; national leadership and social partnership; and the global context.”
Research found that much had been done to eradicate the legacy of apartheid after 1994 and that initiatives since 2004 had had a positive impact on South Africa’s growth potential. Yet many challenges remained. The review argued that ongoing strategy would need to revolve around some core ideas: “speeding up growth and transforming the economy; fighting poverty; building social cohesion and state legitimacy; international co-operation; and building an effective developmental state.”
South Africa’s fundamental problems are, of course, quite long-standing and it will very likely take more time to overhaul society to the extent that a new “new South Africa is created”; one divorced entirely from pre-1994 South Africa. The Fifteen Year Review, based on almost a year of research and analysis within government and by outside experts and organisations, should continue to feed into the long-term planning which helps direct national development.
Manuel’s on the Money
Prudent planning is something that has evidently been prioritised within the National Treasury. In its 2008 Medium Term Budget Policy Statement (MTBPS), the National Treasury handed out reassurance to local banks, which had – at the time of writing - managed to avoid serious losses linked to the US subprime mortgage market meltdown and subsequent credit crisis.
Whichever way global markets swing in 2009 – and it likely they will remain volatile or possibly even recessionary – we have a lot to thank Finance Minister Trevor Manuel for in the current climate. Manuel has pointed out that he keeps a very close eye on the banking system saying "Every day, sometimes more than once a day, I receive a phone call from Mr. Errol Kruger, our registrar of banks, who gives me an update on developments in our banking system. Mr Kruger, in turn, is in regular communication with the chief executives of our banks, and a constant flow of data and consultations keeps both the regulators and risk management teams of our credit institutions informed and alive to market developments."
The International Monetary Fund (IMF), in its Financial System Stability Assessment Report for South Africa, described local banks as "fundamentally sound and well-capitalised”. Perhaps diversification, as well as Trevor Manuel and his team, have had something to do with this. Trevor Manuel has been very much in the public eye in 2008 because his role for South Africa – given the recent international economic turmoil – remains pivotal. Following his Medium Term Budget Policy Statement on 21 October 2008, he was praised by opposition parties “for successfully balancing the pressure of a deteriorating international economic climate against increased demands on the public purse at home.”
As further reported on www.iol.co.za, DA MP Kobus Marais welcomed Manuel's additional allocations to advance literacy, widen access to school feeding schemes, boost nursing salaries, introduce new vaccines for children and fund electricity demand management, while calling for accountability in terms of how additional funds for the 2010 World Cup are spent.
The IFP welcomed the increases in infrastructure spending but had expected more for social grants than Manuel brought to the table. Manuel drew praise for announcing that, during the next three years, provinces would receive additional allocations amounting to R51, 3-billion. This, said KwaZulu-Natal local government, housing and traditional affairs department spokesperson Lennox Mabaso, would “go a long way towards helping us to ratchet up the pace of service delivery in our province.” Meanwhile the ACDP MP welcomed Manuel's sentiment that the local economy would "weather the storm" created by international market uncertainty.
In the closely watched speech, the Finance Minister spoke on the global meltdown, noting that “The scale of fiscal interventions under way is historically unprecedented… We do not yet know how the crisis will be concluded, nor what its impact will be on output and employment, trade relations or the world’s financial system. The storm has arrived, it is fiercer than anyone could have imagined and its course cannot be predicted. But, Madam Speaker, we saw the signs early, and we took appropriate action. We can say to our people: Liduduma lidlule! The thunder will pass. We can say to our people: our finances are in order, our banks are sound, our investment plans are in place, our course is firmly directed at our long-term growth and development challenges, and we will ride out this storm, whatever it takes, together, on the strength of a vision and a plan of action that we share.”
I spoke of the government being a “body” earlier, not just a head; and in that respect it was a nice touch for Manuel to end off with: “I always tend to forget to mention the staff in the Ministry – a team of wonderfully supportive, chirpy, competent and tolerant individuals.”
There are many critics of this (or any) government and it has huge challenges to face in 2009. Yet as the world - and South Africa – continues to deal with change, let us hope that legitimate heroes at all levels of government – many of them away from the headlines and the limelight – will continue to carry South Africa forward for all.
Acknowledgements & Sources:
www.sabcnews.com
www.limpopo.gov.za
www.busrep.co.za
www.housinggov.za
www.helenzille.co.za
www.iol.co.za
www.info.gov.za
www.news24.com
www.gpg.gov.za
www.moneyweb.co.za
www.businessday.co.za
www.allafrica.com
www.bloomberg.com
www.crimeline.co.za
EMPOWERMENT
A BEE company feature >
100% Empowered.
Ndlovu Transport and Plant Hire has been steered to success by CEO and MD Hazel Perumal and her exceptional team. The innovative approach of Ndlovu is changing the face not only of the traditionally male dominated spheres of transport, construction and plant hire, but also mechanical engineering, chemicals and petrochemicals. In addition to its successes in the areas of transport, desludging, road improvement and other initiatives designed to improve the lives of rural South Africans, Ndlovu supplies fresh drinking water to rural communities, magistrate courts, clinics, hospitals, prisons, and many other governmental organisations that do not have access to fresh, clean water. As such, Ndlovu is a company working at grass roots level to improve the lives of all South Africans.
Perumal was last year awarded a Runner-up place in Top Women in Business and Government’s “Top Engendered Company” category and continues to drive the business as a platform for the formerly disadvantaged – who make up 100% of the staff component. Any company that can lay claim to this statistic is truly a company at the forefront of South Africa’s future.
TRAVEL
Greyton feature for Sunday Times >
Is there a happily ever after, asks Gareth Pike. For most locals and visitors, Greyton would certainly seem to be it.
Escape the salmon run of Cape Town’s weekend exodus; cruise up Sir Lowry’s Pass and into apple country. Then swing left onto the R406 and follow the road to the end of the rainbow … well, the rainbow is poetic licence and there may not be any pots of gold per se, but at the very end of the R406 lies the charming town of Greyton. It is, perhaps, as close to a fairytale as country life gets. On a recent weekend excursion, my wife and I decided to find out if the town’s stuck-in-time Brigadoon charm remained undimmed — or if it was changing as quickly as the rest of the country.
Our first stop was the highly recommended Saturday morning market. Since the early ’80s, locals have been buying, selling and socialising here; even kids proudly man their own stalls. This multi- cultural, age-blind and mutually supportive atmosphere has been in place for decades, locals say. We looked at buying some jam doughnuts from a hopeful junior entrepreneur, but had by then used up our pocket money on a mini ironing board .
Kids whizzed past us on bicycles, pram- pushing couples chatted on the pavements under the trees and dusty dogs pottered past without much in the way of ambition. I was also astonished to see two riderless horses wandering by, going nowhere in particular.
“Oh yes,” commented a bookseller, as she handed me a copy of the town’s established newspaper, The Sentinel, “There are a few horses that like to walk around town. If the owners start to miss them they just to go find them on one of the open plots.”
After browsing the market, we decided to stop by the Oak & Vigne for coffee. Named after Greyton founder Herbert Vigne, it remains consistently popular for espressos, lunches, deli shopping and the chance to taste local wines from the immaculate in-house cellar. You could probably spend hours around the tables under the shady oaks, spinning yarns or hearing them spun, and not miss Desperate Housewives or anything else televisual.
Next we drove to the home of our genial hosts for the weekend — Die Gang (“The Passage”), an Overberg-style house nestled down one of Greyton’s dappled side- roads. It’s one of Greyton’s oldest homes, and formed part of Die Bos, a central smallholding where Vigne first settled in the mid-19th century.
Our hostess, Jennie Martin, warned us to “watch the low wooden beams!” — an instruction I was frequently to forget.
Later we took a late afternoon stroll in the Greyton Nature Reserve, the hutted entrance to which is the beginning of the famous Greyton-McGregor trail. Reinforcing Greyton’s isolated atmosphere is the fact that you can walk over the mountains to McGregor and back in a day — yet there’s no through-road. The roundabout drive takes a good two hours. The regal Boesmanskloof towers benignly over the town, as inscrutable as, well, all mountains. It’s the only gap in the Riviersonderend mountain range and shelters an indigenous plant — Pelargonium greytonense — which draws botanists from far afield.
This is the third-largest nature reserve in the Western Cape and houses klipspringer, duiker, grey rhebok and possibly even the odd secretive caracal or leopard. As we wandered about, I kept half an eye open for one of the latter, which some locals claim to have spotted.
So far so good. Greyton seemed to be an undisturbed haven of tranquillity — but as with all towns everywhere, it has its flip side. I decided to visit Pamela Duff, a former Greyton mayor, who lives with husband John at Golden Pond, another lovingly restored house from Greyton’s early days (for architecture enthusiasts, these old, restored cottages, as well as other landmarks — the Post House, Greyton Lodge, St Andrews Church and the Moravian Church — are well worth a day of exploration). I was hoping Pamela could tell me about the “grittier” side of Greyton life.
As co-founder and chairperson of the Historical Society, she’s amassed an astonishing 36 scrapbooks of historical information and hosts regular meetings. We discussed the difficulties of the apartheid era, when eight coloured families were set to be evicted from the town — but white residents fought long and hard to keep the community inclusive. Pamela showed me an old newspaper cutting from the ’70s:
“Let our coloured neighbours stay, say whites in the Cape village of Greyton.”
More recent issues, less serious but faced with no less vigour, relate to the town’s rising popularity and the influx of new buyers in big cars. On one or two corners, I heard grumblings about a new equestrian estate planned for Greyton, which many locals say falls within the flood plain of one of the town’s two rivers.
Pamela, who has been on the Greyton Aesthetics Advisory Committee for a decade, has seen the town face up to new developments. “City people often come to Greyton,” she says, “and start developing without enough research or sensitivity to the existing community.” One particular area where newcomers are sometimes naïve is the leiwater system. This is the charming network of roadside canals that runs clear water down out of the mountains and circulates it through the town in Roman-style aqueducts. The leiwater, Pamela pointed out, is one reason why so many Greyton properties have water features and such a riot of flowers. However, the system works according to a sequential relay, with different parts of the town taking turns to draw from the roadside canals. New residents aren’t always hip to the relay system and sometimes simply draw water ad hoc. This can lead to some rather heated arguments on Greyton’s verdant verges.
Still, I thought, water’s water. Rather have too much than too little. But on Sunday morning I wavered in this conviction. We took out a couple of bicycles and freewheeled around town — the easiest way to get around, since central Greyton is as flat as a pancake. There may be a downside to the flatness, though, as we saw by some houses near one of Greyton’s rivers. The walls were bulked up with sandbags, against the threat of flooding. Over the years the town has had its share of floods — the converging rivers and leiwater are, it seems, a mixed blessing.
During the odd hectic downpour, the roads have been known to disappear under a sheet of water. I mentioned these occasional floods to Martin , who turned out to be chairman of the local Red Cross and had been dealing with floods and much worse for many years. She immediately offered to take us up into Heuwelkroon, where the poorer members of the community live — and often struggle against incredible hardship. This was our unplanned exposure to another, very real side of Greyton life.
Within minutes, we were in a different town — a world apart from the leafy, “suburban” Greyton down the hill. Among cattle and goats, long rows of dusty RDP houses jostled for space against rows of ramshackle tin shacks, trailing rust and corrugated iron up into the ravines of the Boesmanskloof.
Here, Martin pointed out as we bumped along, two men shared a hut roughly the size of a desk. Over there, a young girl had died of Aids — because her family had neglected to seek medical help for her.
Everyone seemed to know Martin in Heuwelkroon, perhaps because, unlike many Red Cross centres, hers is based right in the centre of the community where it can help most.
At the Red Cross house, she and her Voluntary Aid Corps (led by Samantha Harris) operate on a tight budget, thanks to donations. What they have done with relatively little is astonishing.
The team assist during times of flood, hand out food parcels to those below the breadline, nurse the sick and elderly, offer first-aid and frail- care and even lend out wheelchairs. There’s no doubt they fill a huge gap in the community and represent everything the International Red Cross stands for. The visit made me realise that while so many country towns may look like perfect idylls, behind the postcard scenery the ongoing day-to-day challenge of uplifting a whole community continues unflaggingly, thanks to people like Jennie Martin and her team.
So is Greyton an unspoilt haven tucked away from the modern world? That really depends on your suspension of disbelief — or the quality of the view from your doorstep. We left with promises to come back for the annual Rose Festival and to see how the Red Cross was doing against the challenges of poverty in Heuwelkroon — two very different sides to a town caught somewhere between nostalgia for some and a better life for all.
Contact the Greyton Tourism Bureau on tel: 028-254-9564; e- mail: greytoninfo@mweb.co.za; website: www.greyton.net.
If you would like to donate to the Greyton Red Cross, the details are Standard Bank, Caledon branch 50112, account number 185282245
P R
The BMW Coupe Experience in Durban >
Overview
This is an opportunity for motoring journalists to enjoy the finest locales and lifestyle experiences Greater Durban can offer, from the platinum coast to an inland bush experience. Then too, it’s a chance to put the most spectacular BMW road car ever released in South Africa, through a variety of driving conditions, from a flat run to city streets to off-road. The intention is to surprise, delight and entertain journalists with an unpredictable and varied day out that will answer their expectations of the car they’ve been dying to drive, and expand their expectations of Durban, the new ‘Monaco of Africa’ and what it can offer in terms of a widely varied experience in some very different settings. The day will be a seamless integration of driving pleasure and the delights of Greater Durban.
Proposed Itinerary
Journalists will arrive at Durban International at around 10am. They will be surprised upon leaving the terminal, to find, instead of the posh ride they were expecting - a typical eThekwini Riksha bus! This satirises the view many non-locals might have of Durban as being more ‘third world’ than JHB or CT. On board the bus, the hilarious Michael Naiker playing the role of bus conductor and tour guide- checking credentials and teasing journalists about the (fabricated) activities they’re in for…the hottest curry on earth; the taxi ride to the townships…all the time he’ll be saying ’BMW? What BMW?’ Journalists will be horrified…
…but deeply relieved when they arrive at the grand N-shed on Durban harbour, to be taken along a red carpet into the warehouse space, where the cars, gleaming and lit effectively, will all be waiting for them. There will be a holographic water fountain showing the chassis shape of the car, an AV show with surround sound and graphics suggesting the fluid motion of the new Coupe, as well as fresh cocktails catered for by BeanBag catering.
Journalists will be handed their keys, a BMW-branded brushed steel cooler box with snacks & drinks for the road, A driving CD of ambient mixes for ‘Sheer Durban Pleasure’, and a simple map marking out key destinations and the route for the day.
Then the phalanx of cars will drive out in their glory, escorted by an eThekwini Metro Police motorbike escort…this will create a buzz in town and get the cars seen and talked about.
The trip, guided by Metro Police, will wind through the heart of Durban’s CBD, through the throngs at famous Warwick Triangle, and then on to Morningside, where parking will be reserved all along the front of Society, Florida Road’s finest restaurant and club. Here journalists will be treated to ice cold drinks served by Ice Models, and a short overview from the relevant spokesperson(s) from BMW SA.
After that, journalists will be guided by the Metro police onto the Northern coastal freeway, and ‘set free’ to give their car its reigns, along one of the most scenic roads in KZN. This will be an easy, flat drive which will wind them through Umhlanga, past the grand façade of Sibaya, where the cars will wind through the complex and get lots of jaw-dropping onlookers, then motor on to Umdloti beach, for the finest lunch Durban can serve up, at Bel Punto Italian eaterie. Again, parking will be reserved and marked out with flags – the entire day, parking will be a cinch. If it’s a fine day, there will be kite boarders swooping over the beach, and this will be the highlight of the ‘coastal part’ of the day.
After a leisurely lunch, it’s back into the cars, for an exciting ‘back roads’ trip that will wind through sugar cane and coastal bush, with lots of corners to test out the X-drive, and awesome scenery. The cars will make their way up to Hillcrest, where they will follow the main road through Hillcrest, then up Botha’s Hill for a steep climb to scenic Drummond in the Valley of 1000 Hills. Time-dependent, there’s the possibility of stopping off at the landmark Rob Roy Hotel, a Disneyfied ‘castle’ in spectacular setting. Here drivers would enjoy an exhilarating 20-minute traditional Zulu dance, loud enough to raise the roof (if there was one).
From there, it’s on towards ‘maritzburg and the small but game-rich bushland of Tala Private Game Reserve, some Km’s before ‘maritzburg. As the afternoon fades, drivers will take their cars off-road and see a succession of wildebeest, giraffe and even hippo or rhino. Marker flags will direct them through the reserve to the luxurious Leadwood Lodge, five-star accommodation and entertainment in the heart of the reserve. The executive chef brings a wealth of boutique hotel experience to Leadwood, and has a rare talent for fusing simple flavours with the sublime. The spacious luxury cottages are appointed with the finest hardwood furniture and fine linen, and are tucked away in the bush in complete privacy and a great night’s sleep. Tired journalists will be treated here to a lavish meal, a short Q&A with BMW spokespersons, and a discussion on how they have found the cars.
The talk will be interrupted by…Michael Naiker...now in disguise as a visiting German tourist, who’s ‘just been attacked and chased by an angry rhino!’ He will be escorted out by park ‘doctors’ shouting about the danger to journalists if they step outside…then he’ll come back in and the joke will be revealed, before a rousing end-off fashion show encompassing Durban’s finest models in a range of sexy creations by leading local designers Colleen Eitzen, Terrence Bray and Amanda Lair Cherry, that all echo the core of BMW’s visual appeal; “art in motion”.
After that, for those with the energy, the dance floor will open up for late-night revellery KZN style…The following morning, journalists will go on an hour’s game-drive, to see all the game they might have missed the day before, including a stop at the exciting Hippo hide. The reserve is small and all major game should be nearby. They will then drive the BMW’s back towards town, branching off onto the South Coast freeway towards the airport, and leave Durban International having driven a variety of conditions in a circulatory route, and having experienced contrasting settings, locales and activities in a short but stimulating visit.
HUMOUR
South Africa's own super duo >
Illustration copyright Trevor Paul.
The other night – I forget which night; it may have been a Tuesday - while watching Tim Burton’s Batman for the umpteenth time, I had an epiphany. Well, two actually. The first was that I needed some new shirts for cocktail hour – the pink craze for men being sooooo over.
The second was this: my home city, my beat, the gorgeous, famous ‘city that never completely wakes up’, Cape Town – had no super-heroes. Not a single caped crusader, web slinger or alien super being watched over this sub-tropical metropolis! Given the crime stats, I decided the situation needed immediate attention.I mean, this was a serious gap in the local market.
So I called up my old friend Shane, whose career of choice was operating a comics library out of his parents’ garden shed in Pinelands, and I said ‘Shane: you’re 32. It’s time to get serious about your future; and have I got a proposal for you.’
We stayed up ‘til 3am that night, brainstorming this grand plan to bring heroes to South Africa and listening to the Mighty Mouse theme tune on repeat. Shane knitted, sewed, cut and pasted all sorts of gnarly threads we had picked up at MOTH; I wrote up our mission statement and assigned roles to each of us, within our about-to-be-born superduo (me: captain, Shane: sidekick).
The next morning, we were ready – but was the world ready for us? I stood resplendent in my wellies, green tights and creaking wing harness. No longer was I Andrew Worpsley, everyman. I had become something greater, something purer; I was.... Power Pigeon! Squinting in the morning sun, I looked over at my faithful lackey, Shane. He peered back at me through slightly foggy swimming goggles. His arms stuck out in a T-shape, due to the too-small wetsuit we had filched and adapted from my brother’s room. Nevertheless, with giant superglue squirters stuck to his gloved palms and booted feet, and his detachable, radio-controlled attack tail trailing behind him, he looked every inch the hero. No longer was he Shane, mall trawler, junk mail collector and comic freak.
He had become…The Gecko!
My powers would be, of course, to rain winged doom down from the skies on unsuspecting prey, in the form of (possibly) mud pies. I also had intentions to train my namesakes, Cape Town’s neighbourhood flocks of troublesome pigeons, to become my private army and messenger service. O.K., so I couldn’t fly yet, but it was only a matter of fitting a workable pedal system to my wing harness.
While I ruled the skies, my trusty sidekick would work down amongst the streets themselves, combing alleys and sidewalks for would-be wrongdoers. His powers would be to stick to the sides of buildings using his superglue pads.
He could also detach his tail in a situation of immediate danger. I had some worries about the ease of Shane un-sticking himself from walls, but no matter; these were but minor glitches and crime waited for no man!
Straightening my giant fibreglass Pigeon head, I turned again to Shane and said, an emotional quaver in my voice, “So my trusty inferior ego-booster, shall we begin our mission to keep the Cape safe for pensioners, fashion critics and night club owners?”
He said, “What? I can’t hear you at all inside that thing, it’s like just hrrrmmmbrr rreereeamog.” So I decided to lead by example instead and leaped from the front porch - to land in a dusty feathered heap on the neighbours’ bed of succulents.
South Africa’s age of heroes had begun.
Now crime-rattled citizens could sleep in peace, knowing that evil would be thwarted whenever I, Power Pigeon, and my trusted sidekick, The Gecko, were on patrol (including most evenings, apart from when Strictly Come Dancing is on… or Monday nights, when The Gecko has pottery class).
BUSINESS LETTERS
Thanks letter to Event speakers >
Dear Speaker
We’d like to thank you for speaking so eloquently – and with such topical relevance – at the recent Mergers & Acquisitions Conference 2008, hosted by Topco Media (Pty) Ltd.
Mergers and Acquisitions are a growing phenomenon in the current business climate. They can be unsettling and, if handled incorrectly, even disastrous. We appreciated your adeptness in focusing on the positives, introducing new lines of innovative thinking and condensing information to make it universally understood by, and highly motivating for, our audience of distinguished business leaders; all of whom ended the day better equipped to make mergers and acquisitions work in their favour.
We received substantial positive feedback on your presentation from delegates, sponsors and media partners. Your delivery was informative but accessible; concise yet thorough. Your participation contributed to our making the M & A Conference the definitive last word on mergers and acquisitions – until next year’s event. Once again, thank you for the time and effort you took to add your expertise to the M & A Conference. We wish you all success and look forward to collaborating with you again in the future.
Please free to contact us at any time, with queries about Topco’s upcoming events or publications.
Sincerely.
Letter to Mr. Nelson Mandela which I edited for a proposed commemorative publication >
Dear Madiba
You have seen and experienced much throughout your ninety years, and have given so much nobility to the world.
Certain passages in your autobiography Long Walk to Freedom prove, beyond any doubt, that you were prepared to endure extreme hardship to ensure freedom for all South Africans.
I quote, "More powerful than my fear of the dreadful conditions to which I might be subjected to in prison is my hatred for the dreadful conditions my people are subjected outside prison throughout this country." Also, "After a time in solitary, I relished the company even of the insects in my cell and found myself on the verge of initiating conversations with a cockroach."
I found these sentiments especially touching, because there are very few of us, particularly in these times when we now enjoy the benefits of your struggle, who could honestly say that we have the courage and conviction you so willingly displayed in making sacrifices to improve the lives of others.
As Chief Executive of Ithala Development Finance Corporation - KwaZulu-Natal’s development agency mandated to drive economic development and empowerment in our province - I speak for our Board of Directors and all staff when I applaud the fine example you have set through your commitment and valuable contribution to the people of South Africa. We trust that you will enjoy many more years at the heart of your Rainbow Nation, for you are an inspiration to us all; a true African and a role model for future generations.
Yours sincerely,
Ike Nxedlana
Chief Executive
WEBSITES
Draft copy for Mama African Exporters >
Mama warmly welcomes you to a grass-roots philosophy of design…
‘Living and Giving’
In which every piece you decide to own,
gives back to the artist who crafted it.
Mama travels the sprawl of Southern Africa, from Indian Ocean to Atlantic, searching out unique designer items.
Then she unveils them for an appreciative world. Most of these items are practical; all are beautiful; none are knock-offs. Many will have traveled great distances from very out of the way places, before Mama, then you, first lay eyes on them.
Mama’s partners in Africa have nurtured Fair Trade since before the media and the rock stars gave it a snappy name. When you buy from Mama, she will make sure an equitable reimbursement goes back up the road, be it long or short, to the original artist or their representative. So take some time to browse Mama’s latest selection of original designs, comfortable with the fact that what’s taken from Africa now also gives back.
People:
When you add a new piece of design to your home, don’t you wonder who made it, and whether their effort was worth it? Mama would like to tell you about her partners – the men and women for whom your purchase actually makes a difference.
Mama is not a non-profiit entity; she must make ends meet too –but every product she sources does rewards the original artist with a fair reimbursement. This is a huge benefit to those living in remote villages, who now have access to the global market. In many places there are group initiatives Mama deals with, involving women who just want to earn what they need to, and still have time to raise their children. There’s even a design concern that helps HIV-positive members make a living through art, and retain their dignity.
Across Africa, Mama and her partners are part of the drive to nurture sustainable community development – not to mention the joy, fun and friendships that develop around hand-made design.
'You must judge a man by the work of his hands." African proverb
Shop
Welcome to a selection of original designs. As you take a virtual stroll through Mama’s sprawling market of must-haves, look out for those little quirks and features that help to make each item unique, because that’s the real reward.
Jewellery: Bundu Bling
Tableware: The Gathering Place
Cushions: Kaya Cool
Kitchenware: Mama’s Kitchen
Basket ware: The Basket Trail
Accessories: On the Blanket
Contact us...a day without conversation is like a hillside that never greens.
Mama welcomes you to sit down for some strong tea and a chat.
CREATIVE STRATEGY PROPOSALS
Mr Price Sport launch - thinking >
Before anything else, let’s remind ourselves of the mission that Mr Price Sport has:
To raise the bar
It’s time for sportsmen and women to enjoy fresher, more fashionable design in their sportswear, as sport continues to evolve from an activity into a way of life. No one wants to walk around in a tennis shirt that looks like it time-warped out of 1983.
To level the playing field
It’s time for sport to benefit from above-the-belt pricing on quality merchandise, currently so overpriced that it trips people up before they get on to the starting blocks. No one wants to have to use their first prize money to pay off outlay costs.
To inspire the dreamers
It’s time for those who love sports passionately to have a store environment that reflects their passion and their goals.
No one wants to walk out of a sports store feeling like they just spent an hour in the bank.
To give everyone a boost
It’s time for future icons, potential heroes and determined school kids - not just established legends - to be saluted for their commitment to sport. No one’s interested in sponsors who only rock up when you get on to ESPN or Supersport.
For the love of it.
Now let’s place the brand within the context of Mr Price:
Mr Price Weekend Material is value for money + fashion & fun.
Mr Price Home is value for money + family & friends
Mr Price Sport is value for money + the joy of a sporting life.
To define the brand, to pin it down, start by looking at the logo:
MR PRICE SPORT is done with a red and white flourish – it’s bold, passionate, energetic and American / go-getter in feel.
It’s a brand that is positive about the unbeatable sheer joy of sport, and the joy of a life lived in, with and around sports of all types. It’s not cerebral or philosophical, it is physical, instinctive and emotional. It’s the passion of sport.
Twin the logo with the tag line:
ANOTHER GREAT SAVE
This is the value. Every buy at Mr Price Sport is a value for money buy – this is different from a ‘cheap’ buy. Value for money encompasses the added technical aspects of certain profeessional products. It encompasses the fresh design of the apparel.
It encompasses low end but reliable product, and high-end, techincally rich product.
So the brand can be summed up to be two things in equal measure:
PASSION FOR SPORT
VALUE FOR MONEY
That is the DNA of the brand, and both aspects must get equal billing in the store and in the communication.
For instance, the catalogue should really be:
50% hard-sell value for money product only spreads+ a cover that says ‘value’.
50% intro/sports lifestyle that communicates the joy of sport using sponspored athletes.
This then translates on into the store:
Value for money product and pricing in windows and at POS.
Dedicated, changeable generic value signage in-store.
Lifestyle posters showing sponsored athletes as in brandalogue, tunnel, welcome poster etc – all showing the passion of sport. If the brand weighs too heavily in either direction, it will lose either the personaility, or the value. Both are required to make a holistically successful retail brand.
Launch Campaign for BylsBridge: see www.bylsbridge.com >
Who are we talking to?
In the broader sense, this kind of development would answer the needs of all middle-upper class South African families who have hopes for a bright, positive future here in South Africa – and at the same time, the fear of increasing crime, devolving quality of life and ever-higher levels of stress and inconvenience. Sub-consciously, a place like BylsBridge offers a shelter from the storm; security and peace for the future.
It offers an easier life- perhaps even the ideal life.
In a more focused sense, we’re talking to all those who are successful people with vision. They might be CEO’s, brand managers or corporate consultants; equally, they might be renowned artists, writers, architects, academics or musicians. The scope is broad, and cross-cultural, but ultimately, BylsBridge will appeal to those people who achieved a certain level of success in life, and now have the means to secure a bright future for themselves, their business interests and their families.
They might be based in the Jo’burg-Pretoria corridor, wider afield in South Africa, or they may even be ex-pats, people thinking of returning home, or foreigners looking for a local base for visiting or work purposes.
We’re talking, in essence, to visionaries: people who can see a better way of living in the future, and are prepared to invest in it. People who maintain optimism in South Africa, but are also in tune with trends and changes globally; in a world where instability, conflict, crime and higher population densities are gradually becoming the norm, BylsBridge represents the aspirational future lifestyle: secure, peaceful, inspirational and healthy.
It is only in ten-twenty years’ time, looking back within the context of history, that society will truly see how much of an evolutionary shift in lifestyle a place like BylsBridge represents – how ahead of its time it is. Our job right now is to communicate with those people who understand the importance of BylsBridge now; people who think ahead and want to live the future lifestyle today.
What is our proposition?
BylsBridge is the evolution of the modern lifestyle into a better, healthier, more holistic form; a more idyllic version of life. It’s not nostalgic and backward looking to the ‘old days’ – the key is that it is ahead of its time and focused on the most positive version of tomorrow.
It offers all the ingredients for a full, secure life, and those ingredients are of the finest quality.
Live. Work. Play. Dine. Exercise. Meet. Think. Talk. Dream. Build. Create. Inspire. Learn. Teach. Grow. Invest….
Imagine a list of 1000 such words. BylsBridge is all of these things. Its potential cannot be summed up in one word; instead, the only way to describe it is with that list of 1000 words. This shows how complete a life you can live in such a place. There are no limits. It’s the one-stop shop for life itself.
BylsBridge is the ideal lifestyle because it has been created from scratch. It is not the refurbishment of an existing district; it is a brand new village/town/super city that has been grown out of a flat stretch of land and the vision of its developers. It offers the answer to the question, ‘how do we solve the problems of modern city life’ and that answer is:
you create a new city.
In its first few years, BylsBridge will act as an anchoring hub of development for an ever widening ‘new city’, which will grow around the initial development. It truly represents the birth of a new city, an ideal city, built without the constraints of what was there before.
BylsBridge offers people something almost priceless: a quality of life which has been last in the last few decades. Things which seem almost everyday, but which are no longer possible in regular society, are again made possible at BylsBridge; things like-
• Taking a romantic walk under the stars at night.
• Falling asleep without locking the front door.
• Waking up late and walking to work.
• Not worrying where the children are.
• Living with nature in close proximity.
• Welcoming neighbours into your home.
• Not feeling endangered in public places.
• More time and more space.
These are the things that really make BylsBridge a unique offering; they may seem commonplace and ordinary, but our society today is such that these things have become rarities available only to those who emigrate to less-populated, less volatile countries. BylsBridge allows such people to stay in South Africa and to enjoy the optimum quality of lifestyle.
This, more than anything, is what people will be prepared to pay for and it is the USP of BylsBridge.
We think that the best way to reach people is to speak to their emotional needs above and beyond their materialistic needs. The materialistic needs being met is a given; but BylsBridge must also answer the sub-conscious drivers of South Africans today: the need for peace, ease of movement, safety and security, harmony. The luxury of being able to enjoy life without the worry. The urge to be inspired rather than just ‘getting by’- to feel alive rather than just living.
MOTIVATIONAL
The Freelance Chronicles >
In early 2008 I finally took the plunge into freelance life, having set a few basics in place- a nice desk at which I’d feel writerly; recently re-serviced Mac iBook; reputable internet connection (when oh when is Cape Town getting free broadband?); Xbox 360 for tea time breaks. I also sent my CV out to, like, everyone, about a month in advance of leaving full-time work and brushed up on the basic SARS implications of freelance life (set aside 25% of every freelance payment from March 1st - February 28th next year; record all work-related expenses and keep the invoices).
Lastly, but most importantly, I got my wife’s support and backing in the new venture, which, whether it went well or not so well, would ultimately impact on both of our lives. Finally I was ready, and handed in my notice with only the faintest of tremblings. The die was cast. The Rubicon, crossed. Now, all I needed was…what? Oh ja – clients.
My first day was fairly undramatic. I sat at my desk at home, in the bedroom, in my slippers. I scooted past Facebook (for old times' sake). I fed the pigeons. I adjusted the angle of the bed (it was always going a bit skew). Then suddenly - bing! - my first offical freelance work email. I seized it with both hands; the brief was to write hanging banners for a middling outdoor company. Ah. Ok. After that, I made some tea and tried to tame the pigeons to come inside. They wouldn't. And so, in much the same vein, went by the many days.
Remember, as Chris McCandless learned in "Into the Wild" - happiness only real when shared. The freelance life is deceptively easy - you aren't prey to the office politics and desk envy of life in an open plan hell. You can play XBOX for hours without your 'employer' watching you. However, you are also effectively off the radar, sans network and support group - so you need to get out and meet people, make new contacts and not simply become one with your new "executive's chair" (irony). Then you may as well be a desk ornament. Freelance or no, life attains meaning through interaction with others.
Being a freelancer, it's quite easy to never venture further than the kettle, or anonymous correspondence via email. But don't do that if you are going to start freelancing. Get in the habit of taking lots of breaks. Get some exercise. Make an effort to see friends (not on Facebook; it’s not real) and always have an ultimate goal in mind, which you constantly nurture like a baby animal; be it your own company, collaboration with another freelancer, or studies in another field.
You don’t want to be an island forever, right? For a while though, if you manage yourself like a business, freelance offers a blissful period of “me time”. Stay alert, stay hungry, remember your worth and why you're doing this in the first place.
People often ask me, “what’s freelancing like?” – a question to which there are many answers. It’s like being on a permanent sick day. It’s like going off the map and under the radar and wandering through uncharted scenery. It’s that niggling worry in the middle of the night – am I doing enough with my life? – and that feeling of accomplishment when you open the Vino Collapso ( thanks Spaced) at the end of a busy, productive day.
It’s having an off-peak gym membership, hanging out at the Labia on a Tuesday morning and reading all the papers at the coffee shop. It’s living on the fringes – and sometimes on the edge. It’s easy. It’s hard. It’s interesting work and kak work. It’s completely unpredictable and it takes a lot of fortitude. That’s what I want to chat about here: fortitude. Grit. Tough stuff! It’s something you really, really need when you’re a solo operator.
When you go freelance, you need to get used to spending a lot of time by yourself. There will be those days when no work comes in, the Gmail’s gathering dust balls and you wonder if you did the right thing or if you’ll soon be joining the soup queue. Hours can trickle by, with nothing happening. Parents say, “When are you going to get a real job?”; friends buy new cars; you start considering job options in Dubai or like, hey, maybe I’ll go teach English in the East!
That’s when those niggling doubts can creep in – and like a life-term prisoner, if you’re going to survive you simply have to nip them in the bud. Positive thinking – and action – is your strongest ally in the freelance life. Especially this year, in which we’re facing the perfect storm of an economic slowdown, rising costs and a small but persistent rust patch under the rear bumper.
Every day you need to be your own boss, traffic manager, spiritual guru, fan club, PR agency and billboard advertisement. If you can keep believing in yourself and in your talent, through the good days and the bad, others will too and the work will come. No one said freelance life would be easy, but you choose it for the perks - the freedom, the independence, the flexitime. The opportunity to build your own brand. Along with that comes the responsibility to keep yourself motivated on the quieter days. If you still can’t perk up, watch an episode of Channel 4’s darkly comic Black Books – at least you’re not Bernard.
RADIO SCRIPTS
Remember Monsieur Price?
SFX:
unobtrusive ambient sfx, signifying a cocktail party or evening soirée setting – laughing, clinking glasses, classical music etc.
FVO: Lara, where did you get that fab little dress? It’s shiny.
FVO2: Oh, from Monsieur Price - one of those swanky little boutiques.
FVO: Must have cost a (hic) fortune!
FVO2: Nope. I got it for a steal!
FVO: Well you look the biz, darling (hic). Watch out Gooshy-Prada-Dolchy-Cabana!
French MVO: Introducing the Autumn Collection, from Monsieur Price.
FVO: (aside, almost to herself) That soundsh just like (hic!) ‘Mr Price’.
SFX: background noises of crowds, socializing, bad 80’s pop music.
MVO: Dave, you made the school reunion! Sheeesh, kif threads! Talk about dressed for success!
MVO2: Shot bru – all this stuff is from Monsieur Price – that trendy fashion spot?
MVO: Is it? I betchoo driving a cabri – ole nowdays. You must be earning sick cash to buy kit like that!
MVO2: (nonchalant) Naught – I’m still studying.
French MVO: Introducing the Autumn Collection, from Monsieur Price.
MVO: (aside) You mean ‘Mr Price’? Hey? Bru?
SFX: background noises street traffic, taxi horns, heavy base.
MVO: E’itha Smiley, what’s happening?
MVO2: E’itha, Milk Stout. You’re looking makoya, mpechi! Where you get those fresh clothes?
MVO (chuckles) Glenrick told me where to get styling threads for a lot less Nyuko! You must know it…Monsieur Price?
MVO2: Shaya ma chips; Monsieur Price…What kind of crazy Gam’la name is that?
French MVO: Introducing the Autumn Collection, from Monsieur Price.
MVO2: Ini?…You mean Mister Price? Magent?
VIDEO SCRIPTS
Unilever Recruitment Video >
Soundtrack begins, but it’s low key, just warming up, as we open on a close-up shot of our heroine’s face. She says - as we pan out slowly to see her against a tropical paradise background –
“Right now you’re probably feeling a little bit tired. You worked your butt off for years at school, then tech or varsity…you’ve burned the midnight oil and got the results, and now you’re ready for an extended holiday - but instead of ‘bon voyage,’ everyone just keeps saying-“
We see a group of people, all young R&D individuals filmed from a high angle, who shout together “It’s time to choose your career!” Cut back to our heroine, who is standing in front of a CGI superstore – called CAREERS HYPER. “Hey, no rest for the brilliant. Still - you’ve got the marks, you’re up for a challenge and you’re not short of options…”
She walks into the ‘store’ and stops short, saying
“And that’s just the problem. Too many options.”We zoom up and back to see her standing in front of aisles, all packed with identical white boxes, extending off into infinity. Cut back to her face, as she says, in an aside –
“But you know something? You just have to know where to look.”
Camera zooms past her through the ‘Careers Hyper’ store doors. Then the music starts upping tempo and the camera now zooms gradually faster and faster down one of the endless aisles, takes a left, another left, then a right, and zooms towards a sign above one of the aisles: UNILEVER (corporate logo)– which grows to fill the screen as a large opaque logo, possibly with subtle animation to it. Text comes up on screen:
Ingredients:
6 continents
100 countries
400 brands
100% opportunity
Our heroine walks on-screen. While she is walking, a montage of aspirational images takes place behind her, to accompany what she is saying below: images of Unilever HQ; lifestyle shots, such as a woman hanging up washing with OMO, or a guy rinsing off his face with LUX; maybe young people in a boardroom interacting, all interspersed with images of laundry and personal care products. Meanwhile, our heroine points out:
“When it comes to your career – why think small? Unilever is the global leader in home and personal care products. Powered by teamwork, driven by innovation and guided by one mission – to add vitality to life – Unilever touches lives all over the planet, every day.
It began life under the famous Lever Brothers, before taking on the Unilever name in the 1930’s. Since then it’s grown into a company with 206 000 employees, in more than a hundred countries! 1999 was a watershed year for Unilever, when it streamlined its range of brands from 1600 too 400 top performers, as part of a plan called ‘The Path to Growth’.
Today Unilever is flourishing, with 400 top-performing brands that form a vital part of peoples’ lives.
But how do Unilever brands consistently meet the needs and wants of people all over the world? How do they retain the lead in the competitive FMCG market? The answer is simple – but limitless in terms of career opportunities for graduates. It’s called ‘Home & Personal Care Research & Development.’ And that’s where you come in!”
She picks up and switches a remote, and new text scrolls up in the air next to her:
' Reasearch & Development
The scientific and analytical process through which exceptional home and personal care products are created.'
Our heroine then places her hand on a nearby globe, while the HPC R&D logo now morphs out of the Unilever corporate logo behind her, so that you get the clear link between Unilever and R&D as a division. “Unilever has a world-class home and personal care R&D department, with direct operational links within Africa, the Middle East and Turkey – as well as Unilever Global in over 100 countries.
A career in R&D will offer you many things, including personal growth, challenging projects and interaction with other people as driven by innovation as you are. The only thing you’ll never get…is bored. Just ask these guys...
She now turns towards the backdrop/screen, where the R&D logo now morphs to fill the screen as a blue CGI globe, slowly revolving. We now see a montage of short personal testaments appear onscreen, with real employees from R&D, taken against relevant working environment backdrops.
Finale:
She steps through another door and closes it; on the door is the R&D logo. She now walks onto a stage with the HPC R&D logo billowing in the background, like its on a giant sheet of blue fabric; the music builds up and picks up pace as she walks into the middle of a crowd of the real R&D people, from all sectors of the Unilever SA division; perhaps they clap or cheer her, as a line of text comes up onscreen: Unilever S.A. HPC R&D and the camera moves in on her face, as she stands among the people; probably here you’re shooting from an elevated angle…
“If you’re just about to choose your career, you could go in a hundred directions. But to choose the best career, you’ve just got to know where to look. So take a look at Unilever, and explore your future, in the dynamic division of R&D – because here, the most exciting formula of all, is the formula for success.” Camera pans up and back as she laughs and the people around her cheer as it goes into slow-mo, the music picks up, and the screen fades to blue, with the HPC R&D logo, and copy:
Bringing Ideas to life.
We then see a short snippet of our heroine/narrator chatting and laughing with the bunch of Unilever R&D people - set to music, as the credits roll up. END
LIFESTYLE
The Book Lounge for Sunday Times >
Rushing past on your way to, say, Century City, you might think that The Book Lounge, on the corner of Roeland and Buitenkant Streets, has been there forever; relic of a bygone era. Amazing then, that it’s a vibey venue which opened months ago and won “best independent bookshop,” at this year’s publisher-voted Sefika Awards (think the Oscars for bookish types).
I recently popped in to talk shop with owner Mervyn Sloman.
Sloman and staff all come from a background in the book trade, where for years they had discussed opening “the kind of bookshop we really thought ought to exist”, i.e. one with personal service and a depth of offering. “Rather than stock twenty Grishams, we wanted to sell books we we’re passionate about,” says Sloman, “even if we only sold one a year.”
That meant supporting poetry; local fiction; short stories; not just zero–risk bestsellers. Getting the financial backing, location and resources together took time but in December 2007, the doors finally swung open and residents of lower Gardens ambled in to browse new territory, alongside designery youths from the surrounding urban lifestyle developments.
Since then, the place has taken on a life of its own, culminating not just in the award but in thirty pages of e-mailed congratulations that subsequently streamed in from the store’s mailing list. “In a way that’s meant more than the award itself,” says Sloman. “This is what we call a slow zone, where people who love books can feel at home, relax, read and chat. It’s not somewhere you rush through. It’s wonderful to know our customers appreciate that.” That they do. Recently the staff had a phone call from a regular, who was in another bookshop. He'd just spotted a book that he really wanted to buy but ‘didn't want to spend his money there’ - so could the Lounge keep a copy aside for him and he’d take a detour across town to fetch it? I ask Sloman how his team has got the formula so right.
“Firstly, the people. Everyone working here loves reading as much as our customers do. Secondly, we’ve created two distinct spaces in the store. While the top section at street level is more buzzing and showcases the latest new fiction, the basement is more of a den where you can read the London Review of Books or gather your thoughts – except maybe at 11am on Saturdays” (when a small army of kids and parents descends on the store for story time).
The Lounge caters equally to sprawling families and ardent “in-the-know” bibliophiles, who covet the latest McSweeney’s and always turn up for the Lounge’s ongoing series of book launches and events (almost 60 staged so far). The “live” programme is definitely key to the Lounge’s success, says Sloman. Some events (the launch of Lauren Beukes’ cult sci-fi Moxyland, a reading by American novelist Richard Ford; poetry evenings) have drawn between 100-300 people. As I write, UK crime writer David Hewson is set to launch his latest at the Lounge in a few hours, followed later this week by the second appearance of Jonny Steinberg.
So it’s not so much a bookshop as a bookshow, where reading has morphed into a social lifestyle rather than a case of The old man and the sofa. A date to diarise is December 1st, when the Lounge will celebrate its first anniversary. It will have been hard-won year for Sloman and his team; it’s clear how much effort has gone into making theirs the success story it is.
Join The Book Lounge’s mailing list: booklounge@gmail.com
REVIEWS
THE ROAD by Cormac McCarthy
A retching, sickly man and his fearful young son walk an empty freeway from a horrific past to an unknowable future. Burnt out cars, skeletal trees and the smoke-enshrouded ruins of cities form their scenery. This is the underworld brought to life and father and son have become "each the other's world entire."
For those unfamiliar with Cormac McCarthy’s sparse style, archaic phrasing (he revives words long dead and buried, like ‘roofingtin’; ‘illcarved’) and wild America landscapes, The Road might prove frustratingly inconclusive – you can’t classify it. It’s not a sci-fi, although it is a future-set tale of survival – two refugees following a road through a post-apocalyptic hell.
We aren’t told how things came to be this way; only that one night there was a "long shear of light and then a series of low concussions.” That’s as much as you’re going to get by way of explanation. Plot is less important; the characters’ reactions to their circumstances are what matter. In fact, the vagueness of it all is what unsettles the reader as much as the characters.
As father and son make their way, for no apparent reason, to the coast, they must scrounge for every morsel and fight off characters more desperate than themselves.
This theme of characters often as lost as the reader might feel, began in 1985 with Blood Meridian, a violent retelling of the Davy Crockett legend; it continued in the nightmarish The Orchard Keeper, then traveled on into McCarthy’s breakthrough Border Trilogy – which led to a film version of All The Pretty Horses. After that, this underground author gained notoriety and his next release, In the Country of Old Men, was snapped up for movie rights before it hit the shelves. A more accessible thriller of sorts, it disappointed some who had followed McCarthy’s slow, non-conformist journey from cult author to Oprah guest. In The Road he reverts to form, with the power to communicate in one sparse sentence what lesser writers take pages to do.
The Road has a sense of timelessness – mythological, almost – grounded firmly in the landscapes his characters traverse. In a story that might as easily have been set in the Dark Ages, events unfold with a directness and honesty that moves - without relying on sentimentality.
McCarthy still remains, and covets, the loner character – a figure so isolated in his fictional world that only the reader is looking out for him. In The Road, it is this empathic force that could leave you with a lump in your throat and most surprisingly, given the bleakness of the story as a whole – a sense of hope for humanity.
CHILDRENS STORIES
Illustration copyright Hylton Warburton
The Boy Who Wished >
1.
Bentley Stamp was the angriest, frowniest child in the town of
Lower Kneebottle.
He shouted at puppies.
He threw his suppers on the floor.
He always did just what his parents told him not to do.
He broke all of his toys.
He scribbled all over his schoolbooks.
He had no friends. What’s more, he didn’t want any.
Every weekend, he would simply sit on his bed and scowl at the wall all day long, being in a bad temper.
Nothing was ever good enough for Bentley. Not even the name of his town.
One Sunday morning, Bentley woke up and frowned, as usual.
At the end of his bed was standing an irritating little green man,
about the size of a loaf of bread up on end.
2.
Bentley shouted at the green man, "Who are you?" and jumped up and
down in his stupid pyjamas, which he hated.
"I’m the Wish Woogle,” said the green man calmly.
"I’ve been sent by my superiors to make you happy, since we have heard that
you are always such an angry storm cloud.
In fact, it is my task to grant you three very special wishes.
You may wish anything you like, and I will make your wishes comes true."
"Three wishes aren’t enough!!" shouted the boy. "I want more wishes!"
"Nevertheless", said the Wish Woogle, "you have three wishes.
Each will come true, just as you wish them.
So, young man, you ought to choose your wishes, and your words, wisely.
What will be your first wish, for today?"
Bentley Stamp thought, and thought some more. He frowned.
What was the thing he most wished
for, in all the nasty world…
3.
And suddenly…Bentley was invisible.
Ignoring the watchful Woogle, he stamped downstairs, after leaving a badly – spelled note for his parents: GARN TO BULLY SIMON AT HIZ HOUS > : - with a cross face next to it.
Now he knew that his mum and dad wouldn’t miss him. He wouldn’t miss them, that was for sure. Who needs parents, thought Bentley, as he marched out of the front door, invisibly; nothing but bother, parents.
For the whole day, Bentley crept around in secret, yelling ‘Boo!’
right behind elderly people, while they were sipping their tea.
He stole sweets from Mr Corcoran’s Aulde Cake Shoppe and threw them
at the postman, who thought bees were attacking him,
and hurtled up the street at quite a lick.
Bentley barked at cats while they were sleeping in the sun.
Whatever he could do with his invisibility that was mischievous or mean,
is just what Bentley did.
4.
Later, Bentley looked around and saw that he didn’t know quite where
he was. He had been so preoccupied all day that he had wandered far from home. What rotten luck, he thought, as he stomped around on someone’s carefully tended lawn and kicked over the sign saying, "Do not walk on grass".
He was getting crosser by the minute, because he kept tripping over things with his invisible feet. "Whippets!" he yelled. He was pretty red in the face (although no one could see that). Then his anger faded a little - and he began to feel afraid.
It was already 5 ‘o clock, and he had no idea where he was.
Bentley marched up to the nearest person he found, and said "You there! Where is 39 Scarry Road? And be quick about it!"
The old flower seller he had suddenly spoken to ran off up the street - what with hearing voices out of the air and all.
So did the next ten people Bentley shouted at. No one would help him, Simply because no one could see him.
5.
In the end, he found himself sitting alone and invisible on a park bench, while the sun began to sink over the rooftops.
He was very relieved when, at long last, the Wish Woogle suddenly reappeared in front of him.
He tried to pretend not to be glad to see the little green man. The Woogle mustn’t think Bentley needed him around!
He tried to put on his most angry face, as he followed the Woogle out of the park, across town, and back to his house, where he arrived just in time for supper. And yes, of course the Woogle had by then undone the invisibility wish!
6.
The next morning found Bentley once again staring suspiciously at the little green Woogle, who was sitting at the end of his bed, puffing on a long, thin pipe and paging through a book of some sort. He looked as if he had been there for a long time.
"So", said the Woogle with a slow grin. "Yesterday was just an introduction to my Wish powers. You’ve two wishes left. What might your second wish be, young human?"
"Er…" said Bentley, not at all sure he should say anything, after the previous day’s experience. In the end, though, his greed grew bigger than his doubt. So what did he ask for next? Can you hazard a guess?
7.
"Today”, said Bentley, “I demand…a tiger to ride to school on!"
"Very well" said the Woogle, “this you shall have. Do not fear, this tiger will do no harm to you, Bentley.” With that, he disappeared in a puff of green smoke. At the same time, Bentley was startled by a very low growl coming from his toy cupboard; a growl that rattled the windows in their frames. Then the door swung open, and into his room loped fifteen feet of stripy tiger.
The tiger sat down next to Bentley’s bed and waited, its eyes gleaming like emeralds in firelight. Meanwhile, Bentley’s eyes were as round as saucers. His very own tiger. Wait until the bullies at school saw this. They’d never laugh at Bentley again.
He ate his breakfast, brushed his teeth and jumped into his school kit, all in a flash. He was going to school on a tiger!
8.
It took Bentley some time to climb up onto the patient tiger.
Then he prodded it with his foot and it set off down the stairs, out of the house and down the street. Each of its steps was as long as four of Bentley’s normal strides. Naturally the tiger caused quite a stir in the town of Lower Kneebottle that morning, where creatures were generally the size of hedgehogs. The tiger growled at two chickens in the Browns’ garden, causing them to fly right across town. That’s right, they flew. It rubbed its back against Mr Jameson’s little red postal van, causing the car to topple over onto its side (Mr Jameson was already two miles away by that time, and still running).
It stopped at the bakery and gobbled up five fresh loaves of bread in two mouthfuls. By the time they arrived at the school, Bentley had lost his fear of the tiger, and was hooting with laughter at all the trouble it had caused.
9.
"Stay here!" said Bentley to the tiger, when they got to the front of his school. "I have to go to assembly now and you can’t come, because you’re too big." The tiger lay down and yawned a yawn the size of a dinner plate.
Bentley walked proudly through the school doors, while five hundred school children, utterly astonished,
stared out of the windows, eyes wide.
Soon, Bentley was seated in the school hall, along with his class. All the
children were fidgeting and whispering, because they knew that there was a
huge tiger loafing around somewhere outside. The teachers, unfortunately,
knew nothing of the tiger just yet, and simply told everyone to hush up.
Bentley felt very smug, because all the children were eyeing him with
awe, rather than throwing sticky bits of paper at him, like they usually did.
Even Petunia Winscott, the most beautiful girl at Kneebottle Comprehensive,
was looking at Bentley as if she finally realized that he existed.
10.
However, what Bentley didn’t realise was that the school’s mascot, a beautiful blue, yellow and red Amazon macaw, very rare, had just managed to open its cage and was fluttering all about the school, enjoying its newfound freedom.
The much beloved parrot had been a part of school life for ten years. Its name was McDuck, and all the children loved McDuck for the way he’d shout “Fire! Fire!” whenever teachers walked by his cage. McDuck wasn’t afraid of anything - even tigers. Once boring old assembly wrapped up, the schoolchildren bundled out of the school hall to go and spy on Bentley’s giant tiger. The teachers, unaware, went off for their morning tea before first class. Proud Bentley marched ahead of all the children, quite happy with all the attention.
11.
Petunia Winscott was walking at his side, which made Bentley puff up like a parrot.
Did I say parrot? Where was the newly freed McDuck just then, anyway? Can you guess?
When Bentley got to where he had left the tiger; where it was supposed to be – it wasn’t. He and the other schoolchildren gaped at the spot and looked around fearfully. Some climbed up nearby trees or ran back to their classrooms. A tiger was one thing. A hidden, disobedient tiger was quite another. Then the children heard a loud voice exclaim from nearby.
"Tiger, tiger, burning bright. Fire!"
With dismay, Bentley saw a blue feather drifting around the corner, to settle on the ground near the children.
He rushed around the corner, to find exactly what he had feared.
12.
There sat the tiger, purring as it licked its paws lazily.
"What have you done!" shouted Bentley, as loud as a lion
(but not a tiger). "You’ve eaten the school mascot, haven’t you,
you naughty tiger” To the childrens’ astonishment, he walked up to the big cat and punched it on the shoulder.
It looked at him.
The schoolchildren looked at the tiger. They looked at Bentley…then back at the tiger.
Then, as their eyes settled once more on Bentley…they began to get angry. Very angry.
Soon, Bentley was clutching once more to his tiger’s ears, as the big
cat hurtled pell-mell out of the school gates and away up the hill, five
hundred angry children hurling sticky buns and marbles after it, and all
the horrified teachers running after the schoolchildren.
When they had finally seen the tiger, they had all dropped their teacups on the floor in horror.
After the tiger and the children and the teachers was running a little black dog, just for fun.
13.
After hurtling away across to the other side of town, Bentley leaped down from the tiger’s back and began to shoo it away into a nearby grove of trees, which took some time. The tiger was reluctant to move, and pushing a 15-foot long tiger by its rump is harder than you might think. But he did it. Then Bentley shouted after it: "And stay away!" then stomped off towards home (having to ask directions along the way). He was tired, and about as cross as a volcano on the verge of erupting. Just wait until he saw that troublesome Wish Woogle again…
The next morning found Bentley crouched behind his bedroom door with abig potato sack in his hands. As soon as the Woogle popped into fresh air at the end of his bed, as he knew it would, he pounced on it with a yell and shouted, "Got you!" Soon, he had the Woogle neatly tied up in the brown sack and felt very pleased indeed. Now he’d show who was who, as far as being the boss went.
14.
"Right", said the boy. "No more trickery. I have a third wish, and you
had better make sure that it works out exactly as I want it to. Right?
Or it’s the stew pot for you."
“Quite so” said the Woogle, tapping Bentley on the back of his knee.
He yelped and whirled around, to find the green man munching on a small purple fruit of some kind. He most definitely seemed to not be in the sack any more. “And what, pray tell, will your third wish be?” inquired the green-hued creature.
Bentley was extremely cross, and shouted, “I just want everybody in this dratted world to go away, forever. Everybody! And that includes green trolls who appear in puffs of smoke.”
"Do you mean for today", said the Woogle, “…or forever? There is a difference. Consider carefully, Bentley.”
“Forever and ever and ever!” shouted the boy. “I don’t need anyone!”
15.
“Well. If that is truly what you wish – and I fear it’s too late to go back on your wish,
since you have now spoken the words…farewell.”
Suddenly, Bentley was alone. Very alone. He walked slowly downstairs, to find no Mrs Stamp in the kitchen, baking scones. No Mr Stamp, grumbling at the newspaper headlines. In fact, as Bentley saw when he ran out the front door, nobody at all. Bentley was the only person in the whole world. For a moment he wondered where the Wish Woogle might have put one billion people, but he pushed the thought out of his mind and strolled into town.
He stole toys. He ate chocolate cake from the bakery until he felt like bursting. He made himself mayor of the town, then president of the world. He splashed about in the town fountain, which had a sign saying "Please stay out of the fountain.”
16.
Bentley was so preoccupied all day that it took him a while to notice the silence all around him, or the long shadows as evening once more approached. It seemed that the Woogle had not only made all the people vanish, but also dogs, cats, hedgehogs, pigeons…every living thing. Bentley was the entire population of the world’s living creatures. This frightened him, just a little. He stamped around in circles for a bit, and decided what to do. Confound that rotten sun! Why couldn’t it just stay up? It had been a marvelous day, and Bentley was glad to be president of the whole world, only …it wasn’t much good if there was nobody to boss about, was it?
"Woogle!" shouted Bentley. "I’ve had enough fun, now.
"You may return." All that returned was the echo of his voice, bouncing off silent, shadowy buildings. Other than that, all Bentley could hear was the tick of the clock above the town hall. No Wish Woogle appeared. For the first time: no Woogle.
17.
Bentley gulped. This might be a problem. He started walking back in the general direction of home. He wasn’t quite sure where he was going, but there was nobody to ask for directions. He clomped and stamped through the empty darkening streets, growing a little more worried with every step.
Then he heard a familiar sound that made his hair stand on end: a low, thundering growl, from somewhere among the quiet buildings. Oh dear, he thought; the tiger. The one he had shouted at and been mean too, the day before. If only he had been nicer to it, for it seemed now be the other half of the entire world’s population. It might be hungry too; since Bentley had wished away anything a tiger would like to eat (you can guess the sort of things) just that morning. Also, it was no longer under the power of Bentley’s wish. His second wish had ended. The tiger didn’t have to listen to Bentley now, at all. Oh dear, thought Bentley; why hadn’ t that dratted Woogle made the tiger disappear, along with himself!
18.
Bentley began to run, now a very frightened boy. As he ran around the corner of his street, however, he bounced off something that felt like a solid wall, yet…fluffy. He dusted himself off., coughed and looked up…and up…and up.
Eyes glowing like emeralds in firelight. Stripes rippling in gold and charcoal. The tiger from Bentley’s second wish looked down at him, as he cowered in its shadow. A street light above the tiger caught the edges of its fur, so that it looked almost to be aflame. Slowly, very slowly, Bentley began to scoot slowly backwards, on his bottom. He knew the tiger could easily catch him if it wanted to. He inched back, bit by bit, and then, in a flash, turned and ran.
The tiger was quicker.
The boy found himself dangling from one great paw, as the tiger held
him up quizzically in front of its face. Bentley could feel hot tiger breath on his cheeks.
19.
"Welll…", it growled, "Arrren’t you jussst the dinner for a hungry
tiger who wasss left abandoned in the woodsss?"
"You can talk?" said Bentley, astonished, and then –
"Ohpleasedon’teatme (gasp) IpromiseI’llbegoodfromnowon and (gasp)
IreallythinkI’dtasteawfulwouldn’tyouratherhaveacream (gasp) bun?
"Enough!", boomed the big cat, plunking Bentley onto the ground.
" You’lll be lucky if I don’t eat you in the next five minutes.
Nowww, let’s look at the situation. You have used up alll your wishes,
and you have wished away the Woogle too, the one person whooo can help you,
along with everybody else in the world. You are in a real fix.
Thisss is quite a problem for you to…digesst, isn’t it?”
Bentley’s eyes began to water as he realized the position he now found himself in.
“W-why are you still here, then?” he asked.
“Think of me,” said the tiger, “as one last chance for foolish boys.
I still haven’t decided whether to gobble you up,
or help you, though. Hmmmmm…I wonder…”
20.
“Please”, said Bentley. “Please. I’ll do anything!” The tiger looked down at him, eyes now glimmering in the light of the moon.
“Bentley, if I do help you, there will be one condition."
“Fine!” said Bentley. “Er, what’s a condition?”
“It is a promise you are expected to honour,
if I agree to bring back my trusty servant, the Woogle.
And it isss thisss: You will try to be nicer from now on.
You will learn a simple lessson in life, which is that life returns to you what you give to life.
If you arrre kind, life will treat you kindly and bring you good thingsss. If you are mean, then life will forever be just as horrid.
Do you ssseee?” Bentley sort of did, but only just.
“AND” thundered the tiger “the minute you start to stamp and shout again, everrryone will disappear once more,
and you will be left alone, invisible and surrounded by a world populated only by hungry tigersss.
And so shall you stay…unless they eat you.”
21,
Bentley thought and thought, and walked around (gently) in circles, until the stars were shining high over the town.
The tiger just sat and licked its paws, watching him. Then it yawned a yawn loud enough to gobble up a small car.
So Bentley quickly said, in a very small voice, "Alright. I
agree. I promise to try and be a nicer boy from now on."
“Bravo” said the tiger.
Then the great cat opened his jaws and roared and roared, loud enough to be heard on the moon, had there been anybody at all up there. Bentley lay down flat on the ground with his hands over his head, as the tiger’s voice boomed over silent towns and valleys. The noise seemed to last forever.
22.
Suddenly, the Woogle popped into the air in front of them, and fell with a thud onto the ground. He picked himself up and bowed to the tiger a long, low bow.
“My liege” he said. The tiger nodded down at the Woogle. Just then, a bundle of feathers, blue and red, flew down and landed on the tiger’s shoulder.
“Hullo, McDuck” grinned the big cat. “Have a nice day?”
“Have a nice day, have a nice day!” agreed the parrot happily. Once again, Bentley was astonished. The tiger had never eaten the parrot at all! The Woogle, meanwhile, eyed young Bentley for a time, looking him up and down, scratched its head and then said "So, you have had enough of wishes, have you? You’d like everything back the way it was, would you?"
"Yes please, sir", said tired, hungry, not--cross-at-all Bentley.
"And no more putting me in nasty sacks, eh?"
"Oh! Yes. I mean, no” stammered Bentley.
"Well then, so shall it be. Just remember your promise, boy."
“Tiger, tiger burning bright” trilled the parrot. “Fire! Fire!”
23.
The Woogle nodded at Bentley and leaped up onto the tiger’s back, as nimble as a mountain goat. Then the tiger smiled down at Bentley, and for the first time looked rather more cuddly than fearsome. “Goodbye, Bentley. You may go home, now.” With that, the tiger turned and padded away into the shadows, stopping briefly at Bentley’s school to return a somewhat overexcited McDuck to his cage outside headmaster’s office. After that, the tiger and the Woogle went away, back to where they had come from, chatting as they walked.
Bentley, meanwhile, was overjoyed to hear the sounds of daily life once more, all around him.Dishes clattered, motorcars hooted, dogs barked and television sets hummed.
"Phew!" he said, very relieved to be back in the normal world.
He began walking home.
24.
When he opened the door, he ran up to his mother and hugged her, somewhat to her surprise. “Hi mum!” he said.
Then he went through to the sitting room and hugged his grumbling. Father, who was buried nose deep in the evening edition. “Hullo, dad.” Then he climbed upstairs to his room, to get ready for supper.
"I wonder what’s wrong with him?", said Mrs Stamp to Mr Stamp. "He’s seldom such a little gem. Maybe he’s coming down with something."
"Hmmpf?" said Mr Stamp, from somewhere deep in the recesses of his paper.
Whether he succeeded in being the nicer person he had promised the tiger he’d be, is not within our power to know. The Woogle knows, of course, and the tiger does, too. Wherever they are, you can be sure they’re still keeping one eye on Bentley Stamp, and more recently, the other eye on a somewhat troublesome girl called Belinda Screech, in the seaside town of Badger’s Haunt...
The end of the tail.
LIFE
Several months ago, my wife and I made the decision to emigrate to Cape Town – from Durban. Looking back, through the haze of a Merlot fog, it’s hard to remember why. It might have been because we’ve always wanted to go to San Francisco - Cape Town’s a more realistic approximation for the budget-conscious (read: creative industry). Or it could have been that last, splinteringly hot Durban summer, which melted Indian Mynahs on their branches and felt akin to living inside an equatorial warlord’s armpit.
Ten years of weeping sweat and battling mozzies, while we waited for Durban to ‘explode’ (people are always saying Durban ’s going to explode – ‘Oh, it’s on the verge of big things! Global city! Wait and see!’) finally sent us over the edge. Or…oh wait- I got a job offer. That was the final push, really. Something concrete to go to. This reassured me. I had once wandered off to England with no job waiting; just a satchel full of big ideas, little clue and three crisp travellers’ cheques. After sheltering from football hooligans under my 70’s era desk in Reading for a year, surviving on pillaged pork pies, I had come back with none of my ego and half of my money, crawled back into the warlord’s armpit and decided never to go anywhere again. It was too dangerous out there. Durban was warm and soupy; safe.
So I was surprised to discover that there we were, sometime in March, barreling over Sir Lowry’s Pass in a lopsided Citi Golf full of books and Flings packets. Somehow, we had extricated ourselves from the syrupy flypaper of Durban lassitude (of course, without a spirited wife at my shoulder I would still have been um-ing and aah-ing).
As we careened down towards Somerset West, our vision filled with the golden vista of an untrammeled future, where we could start over again- then it filled with a mauve Ford Cortina that had lost a tyre and was now swimming alarmingly across four lines of rush hour traffic, before it ploughed gracelessly into the median, followed closely by ourselves. A warning, perhaps, not to rush the future. We brushed the chip crumbs off and continued cautiously on towards our new home; a flat we had never even seen.
It turned out to be a tiny one-bedroom in uber-trendy, smooth-as-silk Wembley Square, which drank up the setting sun like a starving pelican. We dashed inside to stand on our (first ever) balcony – which at several centimeters wide was really the tiniest suggestion of a balcony; only our eyelashes fitted. Still, we had a glowing view of Lion’s Head, you didn’t have to swim through humidity, and we’d probably end up in Top Billing magazine just by living here.
We collapsed on a blow-up mattress for three weeks, then woke up and decided to make some friends. We had heard that this might be hard in Cape Town. They take a while to warm up’, said one Doubting Thomas. ‘Think of the current rate of the Arctic melt.’ Unfazed, we invaded the downstairs sushi bar and made friendly gestures in the general direction of some super models, but they weren’t interested and slithered away through a crack in the flagstones.
So we decided to trek to the summit of Lion’s Head, where we might find a hiked-out captive audience who’d have to humour us - but the peak was full of joggers who came and went in a blur of Lycra, pausing for two seconds to send an MMS to friends in Sweden.
We shuffled over to Observatory and made several new friends quite easily, on a street corner - but they had a tendency to talk in tongues and ferret about in our pockets when we weren’t looking. Finally we picked a spot on the map and ended up at the famous Hout Bay World of Birds. One thing about animals, they’re less picky. Not much use for a game of pool, but companionship? Fireside chat? No worries.
We dashed past the world’s smallest guinea pig, a sort of furry tennis ball, then under a screaming parrot and into the monkey garden, where real squirrel monkeys sit on your shoulder and nibble your ears. It’s a phenomenon - as exhilarating as swimming with Californian dolphins, but again, happily for us, cheaper. However, they must have been in an uncharacteristic funk that day, because of the tourists pressing cameras in their little faces. One weed on my shoulder (a monkey, not a tourist), then another went for my wife’s hair clip like it was the winning lottery ticket.
A little Japanese boy laughed at us.
We decided to try something safer and ventured into a peaceful, shady enclosure where a one-legged owl and a dusty Hadedah sedately watched us from a dark corner. I fell to the ground in the name of kinship and the Hadedah immediately started attacking my shoelaces, possibly out of some instinctive nest-building frenzy. Nothing personal, you understand.
The Maribou storks, then. I knelt down, close to the fence and immediately learned my lesson. One tried to poke its beak in my eye (luckily I had glasses on). Perhaps I had been too louche, joking about it looking like a mummy’s elbow – plus I was behaving like a tourist’s camera. I wandered through some greenery muttering at my stupidity – and was amazed to come upon a sort of mini-kangaroo, about a foot in length, which I tried to befriend. It hissed in exactly the tone of an aggravated Puff Adder. I scrabbled backwards and found myself under a majestic Korean owl, which turned its head away in obvious annoyance. Perhaps we were simply trying to hard? It was time to opt for the safer territory of Facebook.
I instantly made 150 ‘friends’ and settled down to play Playstation for a year: mission accomplished. Job, check. Friends, check. We had adapted well to our new environment and were even regulars at the local library, which was full of Catholic priests and sighing civil engineers, oddly enough.
Everything felt ‘oddly enough’, actually, from the roads as wide as footpaths to the booming cannon that went off every midday. The cannonballs, someone told me, were designed to plop into the bay and keep S.A’s sleek new submarines in practice. It was a sort of game. “Gosh”, I said, ‘really?’
Being in Cape Town, we absolutely had to do some celebrity spotting. Just in one morning of shopping at Gardens Centre, we tagged Pieter Dirk Uys, David Kramer, Toby Cronje - and my wife thought she saw
Patricia Lewis. John Malkovich proved harder to track down; a friend of mine who mans a designery store full of little Japanese books and retro Adidas shoes said that Malkovich had been in, wearing ‘some sort of kaftan thing’. One Thursday the grapevine went to Def Con 4: Danny Glover was ambling around on Robben Island and Meg Ryan was at the Convention Centre filming a rom com. We were torn. We decided to split the difference and blag our way into the Mount Nelson around the corner; on the off chance we might see Mags van der Westhuizen. They’re always so gracious to guests at the Mount Nelson , even if you look a little grubby.
One morning in winter, I was woken by a gang of seagulls taunting a rollerblader and suddenly realised: I hadn’t thought about the rest of South Africa – or even the rest of the world – for quite a while. Wasn’t that strange? We had uprooted ourselves out of a fabric of family and friends whom we had known for years, left the green hills of our childhood, driven 1600km South West, and simply - adapted. It must be some form of denial, I decided, while sipping my morning cappu at Vida Café, black polo neck scoffing at the light lashings of winter rain. Hey, I thought – when did I start wearing polo necks?
It was the mountain’s fault, of course. Love it, hate it, sell it to Europe and make a mint in sandstone sales; but I do think there is something scientifically odd about the mountain. It’s as if, once under its massive shadow, all of your thoughts of home – be that Maritzburg, Zimbabwe or NYC, simply bounce back at you, like cell messages when the network’s busy. You walk around in a fog, gawping at the beauty of the scenery, and somehow forget the continuing reality of the world you left. You forget thunderstorms, litter and CNA’s – three things we’ve seen very little of in the Cape .
Of course, there’s also the unique climate to blame for this involuntary amnesia. It’s easy to imagine you’re in the Med, when the mountains, the sea and the flora all try to convince you of the fact, and there are Top Billing presenters floating past on yachts of the month. Resolute, I made a mental note to phone our friends in Durban and re-connect. This Alice in Wonderland feeling was freaking me out.
Then I looked up to see a white cloud unfurling over Devil’s Peak and my mind went all fluffy and pink again. Us immigrants to the city bowl, of course, knew deep inside that there was a wider world out there; we’d seen it. It was full of real problems. We just couldn’t really see it anymore, past the mountain. Slowly but surely, we were becoming voluntary ostriches;
nestled obliviously on a peninsula that may as well be adrift in the Atlantic.
We’re still drifting, seven months in. Is there anyone out there?
Hout Bay chuckles about this gentle isolationism; as you drive down out of the wooded hills of Constantia a sign greets you: ‘Welcome to the Republic of Hout Bay’. Of course, the land-linked island feel is why some love it here.
It makes the world feel smaller. That’s quite nice for a Hobbit. And after all, if a Hobbit must dig a new hole to settle in, at least let it be a hole with a view. A view that blocks out the pictures of the many things a Hobbit might otherwise remember – and miss.
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