November Chills

[Nigel]

Great filming again, Sweder. Very atmospheric, and thanks for the expensive David Attenborough voice-over. Worth every penny, no doubt about it.

And I especially like the finely pitched editing, where you pan away from your white dog just as he lines up to cr*p at the start of the shorter clip.

So, then - are you sure that was really (ahem) mud you were slurping through there ?

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

You Snake-loving, Guinness-swilling, Motorhead-roadie-ing old bugger!

[Sweder]

Ha-hah!
Yes I guess it is already in some part of the world.
I will mark the occasion by teeing off at the Metropolitan Golf Course (9 holes only) at 06:30 tomorrow, following by 14 hours of ever-lovin' pain unloading containers at the CTICC. I've invited seven honoured guests to join me for a steak dinner and several glasses of fabulous South African wine at Balthazaars on the Waterfront before trashing the day in the Fireman's Arms with my local agent, a fervant Evertonian, watching his beloved Toffees try their luck against my MU Rowdies at the Trafford Devilbowl.
Washed down with a few you-know-whats.

Things could be worse.
Sadly bugger-all running on the horizon. I had a fantastic offer not five minutes ago; the twin beauties of Celina and Chloe from the IDF intend to go jogging along the Cape Town promenade this evening and invited me to join them. Sadly I have been press-ganged by their colleague Ronan L'Heveder into laying 180 metres of stick-on footprints at Cape Town International Airport arrivals lounge.

Hey ho, another dreary day at the office

[Antonio247]

¡feliz Cumpleaños, Sw! Happy Birthday!

Have A Great Day!

[Sweder]

Nothing major but nonetheless 5k along the Cape Town seafront. Undeterred by my spurning their previous offer the lovely Celina and Chloe persuaded me to join them for a Birthday lope before our trip to Balthazar's. We hit the streets at dusk, caressed by a warm, gentle sea breeze as the sun lay gently down behind Lions' Head and Signal Hill. Stars twinkled on the edges of the darkening sky, the lights on passing trawlers signalling back their secret intergalactic code.

The run was gentle, the conversation amiable. I enjoyed the locals' slack-jawed attention as I plod past, a hunched grey thorn between two sweet young roses. Hey, it's my birthday, OK? The MU Rowdies did me proud, serving up a second-string paddling to the Toffeemen. Sadly I didn't get to watch the match with my Evertonian customs agent. We'd been lucky to get the last sitting at my favorite Waterfront restaurant, the football updates delivered via text message and mobile browsing.

It's full-on early doors action here on the day after the fabulous supper the night before.
Luc Hendrix, Ronan's boss at the IDF, blew the Somelier away with his knowledgable selections of grape juice. The R&Vrede Shiraz was the perfect accompaniment to my ample fillet and delectable fries.
- Sigh - it'll take more than a gentle 5K to offset that little lot