Archive for March, 2015

Royal Leopards v Petro de Luanda, Saturday 14th March 2015, 3.30pm

March 31, 2015

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Swaziland is less than four hours drive from where we live but after a year and a half in South Africa, we still hadn’t got around to going there. I think I’d subconsciously been hanging on to try to combine any visit with the Reed Dance. You know the one I mean, it’s that ceremony where as a way of helping the King select another bride the local women dance around their handbags without their blouses on.

I’ve no time for the monarchy, but if we had events like that outside of Buckingham Palace I imagine I could probably put my Republican sympathies to one side for the afternoon.

In the absence of any royal events involving girls in states of undress it was the prospect of seeing the Swazi Police team Royal Leopards in the equivalent of a UEFA Cup game against a side from Angola that proved sufficient to tempt us over the border.

We stayed at the Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary in what was described as a beehive hut. I can’t imagine anything worse than staying in a giant beehive, perhaps except a giant wasp or hornet‘s nest, but as there weren’t any bees inside it worked out fine.

Beehive hut

Beehive hut

The Somhlolo National stadium in Lobamba was only ten minutes drive away from our hut and there was plenty of parking on the field outside. Soon after paying our thirty Swazi wotsits on the gate we heard our car alarm going off, but fortunately we were close enough to be able to use the remote to silence it. I spent the rest of the game wondering what might have been nicked.

We watched  the first half in the South Stand behind one of the goals. The main West Stand housed most of the spectators, with a handful in the North and one or two loitering on the grassy terrace to our right.

View from the South Stand

View from the South Stand

We attracted a little more attention than we usually do, starting with a fella in a Kaizer Chiefs shirt who was insistent that I tried some of his home-brewed morula. It was a cloudy beige liquid and he had two litres of it in an old coke bottle. I detected a hint of apple in my quick swig with perhaps the slight bouquet of anti-freeze. Whatever it had been made from, it certainly had a kick to it.

We were then joined by a small girl who quietly exchanged pleasantries with Jen before asking her for money.

The game kicked off five minutes early at twenty-five past three. They wouldn’t get away with that at the Riverside where people have the timing of downing their final pre-match pint down to a fine art. Mind you, missing the first five minutes at the Riverside due to an earlier than scheduled kick-off wouldn’t be as bad as the game kicking off later than planned and you arriving in your seat to discover that you have five minutes of Me Mark Page’s gobshitery to contend with.

Hat of the day.

Hat of the day.

Royal Leopards had done well to be in the current round of the CAF Confederations Cup. They’d lost the away leg of the previous tie at Bidvest Wits three-nil, but had then rallied at home to turn it around and get through. Oh Massimo.

The hosts  looked to have their work cut out in this round too as with game no more than five minutes old the Angolans, in yellow and blue, converted a cross from the left at the near post.

Leopards equalised midway through the first half with a penalty after a contentious handball. The linesman flagged for it just a few minutes after ruling that a shot that had bounced down from the Petro crossbar hadn’t crossed the line. I felt that each decision could have gone either way and suspected that the linesman felt under pressure not to rule against the home side twice in quick succession.

One each.

One each.

At half time I bought a couple of pieces of grilled chicken. I could have had beef or pork, but I couldn’t peel off the skin from those as I could with the chicken and as the lad on the stall seemed to have minimal interest in chasing away the flies that kept landing on the food, chicken seemed marginally safer.

Half-time snacks.

Half-time snacks.

For the second half we moved to the South Stand, mainly to avoid the prospect of any more morula. We were successful, although we did end up handing over twenty rand each to a six year old girl selling what we subsequently discovered was probably tap water in re-filled plastic bottles.

Tap water and nuts.

Tap water and nuts.

Ten minutes after the re-start a goalmouth scramble ended up with Leopards taking the lead and a mass celebration that included all of the bench and a couple of the ball boys. They couldn’t hold on though and Petro squared the game with a quarter of an hour to go to set themselves up nicely for the second leg.

Amatuks v Mpumalanga Black Aces, Saturday 28th February 2015, 3.30pm

March 23, 2015

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Jen and I make an effort to go somewhere each weekend. After all, what’s the point of working around the world if you don’t try and see as much of it as you can? Sometimes though, we don’t go very far and this weekend was one of those occasions.

There’s a nature reserve about half an hour away from where we live that we’ve stayed at a few times. We can hike on a morning and have a fire on an evening. Sometimes when we are hiking we stumble across interesting stuff like bones, warthog tusks or porcupine quills. During the hike this weekend we got luckier and found an ostrich egg. It was cold and abandoned, but we left it until the next morning to be sure.

From what I’ve heard, ostrich eggs can be difficult to open. I’ve read about people having to use a hacksaw on them. I kept it simple though and just hoyed it at a rock. We’d been hoping that there might have been a partly developed embryo inside, but disappointingly there was just yolk and albumen. Lots of it. Still, it exploded in such a satisfying way that I’d like to drop the next one from an upstairs window.

It was even better than smashing a telly.

It was even better than smashing a telly.

In the spare time between hiking and lighting fires we went to the match. The University of Pretoria team, Amatuks, were at home to Mpumalanga Black Aces in the Premier league and in keeping with the local nature of the weekend it wasn’t much more than half an hour‘s drive away.

Security was tight at Tuks Stadium, although they didn’t mind us taking bottles of coke and a camera in with us, items that we’ve had knocked back elsewhere. Jen noticed a cricket game taking place on a pitch behind one of the stands and by taking up residence in the media seats at the top of the stand we were able to reposition our stools to watch that game until the football started.

I couldn’t find out which teams were playing, but the two of us just about doubled their crowd. I kept missing wickets falling by being distracted by events on the football pitch, but I did see a bowler attempt to ‘Mankad‘ the non-striking batsman. Even though the batsman got away with it, the fuss might very well have unsettled his partner who was dismissed next ball.

Pretoria University cricket.

Pretoria University cricket.

When the football started we stayed in the media area. I’m rarely challenged if I’m somewhere that I’m not supposed to be and as there were more stools and desk space than reporters I felt that we weren’t doing any harm.

In fact we must have looked at home there as towards the end of the game a liaison person came over to advise us that the post-match interviewing of players and managers would take place in the tunnel. I had half a mind to nip down and pursue the Five Star on Going Live! style of questioning with them but reluctantly resisted the temptation.

All of the real reporters strolled up close to kick-off.  All that is except the bloke next to us who turned up twenty-five minutes after the game had started. He didn’t seem concerned to have missed Amatuks going a goal up and spent most of the remainder of the first half checking his emails.

View to the left.

View to the left.

There were a couple of players that stood out. For Amatuks it was their Ugandan striker Geoffrey Massa. He carried a bit of weight but made up for his lack of athleticism with his speed of thought.

The trouble was though that he didn’t make any allowances for those of his team mates without those extra yards in their heads and he would regularly thread passes through the Black Aces defence that his colleagues didn’t realise were going to happen until the chance had long gone.

View to the right.

View to the right.

For the visitors it was Zimbabwean Tendai Ndoro who made the biggest impression.  Initially that was more down to his haircut and sulky attitude than anything worthwhile but five minutes before half-time he calmly cancelled out Amatuks opening goal with an assured finish.

Haircut of the day.

Haircut of the day.

The highlight of the second half was the arrival of a  hundred or so Amatuks fans fresh from their team’s victory in the competition for reserve sides, the Multichoice Diski Challenge. I’d thought about going myself but it was a further hour or more drive away and so I’d settled for the local option.

Late arrivals.

Late arrivals.

Twelve minutes from time Amatuks clinched the win when Black Aces failed to clear the ball and some fella half volleyed home at the back post.

 

 

Maritzburg City v Amajuba United, Saturday 21st February 2015, 3pm

March 18, 2015

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A couple of months before Christmas Jen started running. Not in a Forrest Gump way that would have resulted in her being a few hundred miles away by now, but laps around the block. She’s stuck at it and as she can now run for ages without stopping, the next stage was try it out in an actual 10k race.

She picked one in Pietermaritzburg and so that’s where we went at the weekend. It was a big success. I watched the race from MacDonalds and in the time it took me to eat two breakfasts, Jen was finishing her run just outside of the prize money.

Pietermaritzburg 10k

Pietermaritzburg 10k

After the race we went for a hike at Albert Falls Dam. It was a choice made primarily because they have a camping ground where we were able to sneak into the showers, but it turned out to be a decent walk too. The animals were a bit more wary than they are at some places and we didn’t get too close to the wildebeest or zebra, but we got good views of a couple of fish eagles.

The smaller stuff was easier to look at. There were a few giant snails and plenty of grasshoppers. I’ve included a photo of a pair of grasshoppers mating, mainly so that I can tag it with ‘grasshopper porn’ and see what traffic it drives to the blog.

Grasshopper porn

Grasshopper porn

We saw some frogs too and one of them very kindly sat still whilst I stuck the camera about two inches from its face. I’m sure there’s some special macro setting or something for that sort of shot but, as with most things in life, I tend not to bother learning how do something properly and rely instead on just hoping for the best. I’ve found over the years that it’s a lot less effort and there’s usually minimal difference in the outcome.

A frog.

A frog.

Of course, as soon as I knew we were going to Pietermaritzburg for the weekend I put the effort in to look at the sporting options. They have a Premier League team, Maritzburg United, but they were playing away. There’s a team that plays in the third tier ABC Motsephe League though, Maritzburg City, and conveniently they were at home on the Saturday.

City play just outside of Pietermaritzburg at the Wadley Stadium in the Georgetown township. I wonder when the term ‘township‘ will be replaced by just ‘town‘? It sounds so much better, a bit like the way that streets in every new housing development in England are called things like Badger Glade or Honeysuckle Meadow even if they are sandwiched between the sewage works and an industrial estate.

Unusually for a lower league ground, Wadley Stadium appeared on the satnav and benefited from decent signposting. The twenty minute drive from the city centre took us through some fairly poor areas, although people seemed quite happy to let their goats and cows graze unattended by the side of the road or in the central reservation.

I presume that the fear of retribution from the local Mr Big was sufficient to deter people from flinging the odd ruminant into the back of their pick-up and speeding off.

View from the main stand.

View from the main stand.

Wadley Stadium was just what I look for in a ground. For a start, it was where it was supposed to be. It also had brick terracing to a couple of sides and a decent backdrop, this time houses up in the hills.

The game had just kicked off when we got there and there were already three or four hundred people watching, mainly from the top couple of terracing steps down the side of the pitch and with some smaller groups behind the goal to our left. There was also some tiered seating opposite for those people who didn’t want the background of the hills.

Fans behind the goal.

Fans behind the goal.

Maritzburg City were in blue, with their opponents in yellow and it was Amajuba who applied the early pressure. It didn’t count for much though as ten minutes in a ball over the top was stroked home by a City striker to put the home side a goal up.

The Amajuba keeper didn’t inspire a lot of confidence. It wasn’t so much his shot stopping, as he didn’t have too many shots to stop, it was more his general unorthodoxy. For example, when receiving backpasses he would flick the ball up into the air and then welly it downfield on the volley.

He might be ahead of his time but I tend to think that if his favoured method of distribution was any good then we’d see the professional keepers doing it on the telly every week.

View to the right.

View to the right.

Half an hour in it started to rain and so we got back in the car and took advantage of the parking area behind one of the goals. It reminded me of the days when those disability cars would park pitchside. In particular, I thought back to the play-off second leg at Stamford Bridge in ’88. I’m sure there were cars on the semi-circle of grass behind the goal at the Shed end. Can you imagine that these days? Although it would be a handy place for Jose to park the bus when he didn’t need it on the pitch.

We got to half-time without any further goals and in torrential rain Maritzburg ran for the dressing room whilst Amajuba had to make do with a minibus to our right.

The main stand.

The main stand.

When the second half resumed the subs for both sides remained exactly where they were, leaving a couple of lines of empty chairs at the side of the pitch. The ball boys had no desire to be outside in that weather either and so the fourth official was forced to do a lap of the pitch every now and again to do their jobs for them.

With a quarter of an hour to go Amajuba managed to squeeze the ball in at the City keeper’s near post prompting a mass celebration of Klinsmann dives. It was certainly appropriate in the conditions but it’s not something you’d expect to see too often on an artificial pitch.

As the game drew to a close the puddles on the pitch grew larger. There’s no way that the match would have started with the surface in that state but if the ref had called it off at that stage he probably have been strung up by the players.

After an hour of rain.

After an hour of rain.

Bang on ninety minutes Maritzburg got the winner, prompting an even bigger celebration than we’d seen earlier. This one involved fellas with umbrellas charging onto the pitch and a blast of car horns from what was now a full car park behind the goal.

At that point the rain eased up, allowing the ref to add a few minutes of injury time that would have been unthinkable in the earlier conditions. We even got the subs and ball-boys making a sheepish re-appearance.

 

Western Spurs v Sorento Bucs, Sunday 15th February 2015, 1pm

March 14, 2015

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After watching the closing stages of the morning game at Swakopmund Sports Centre Jen and I had driven into town to have a look around. Apparently the architecture is very German influenced but as I’m not expert on that sort of thing I’ll have to take their word for it.

One thing I was sure about though was that there were camels in Swakopmund. This surprised me as I’d assumed that they were more of a northern african thing. Perhaps someone just bought a few for the back garden on the basis that with all the sand Namibia has then they’d feel perfectly at home.

Swokopmund camels.

Swokopmund camels.

We stopped for something to eat at a hotel where we spotted a german couple that we had noticed in at least two of the places that we’d stayed earlier on the trip. I suppose that’s how it works with everyone using the same hotel review sites prior to booking.

In a nod to home I had a warthog parmo for lunch, or a schnitzel, which I suppose is near enough. It was certainly better than the ones I’ve had in Teesside although I suspect that may have been due to the quality of the ingredients and cooking rather than the warthog. Even so, I can’t imagine it replacing chicken or pork in the Norton High Street take-aways.

As we drove out of town after lunch on the way back to Walvis Bay I stopped at the Sports Centre on a whim, just on the off-chance that another game might be taking place. It’s not that unusual for a pitch to be well utilised on a weekend. As it happened, there were players on the pitch and so we parked the car.

Second game of the day.

Second game of the day.

We took up seats on the other side of the pitch this time and whilst the fella next to us on the raised platform was able to tell us that the score was one each, he struggled with the team names.

Fortunately the fourth official was only a few feet away and he was able to confirm that Western Spurs were taking on Sorento Bucs in another Erango regional second division game. He was also able to tell us that there was half an hour remaining and that Western Spurs were in blue, whilst Sorento Bucs wore yellow. I should have asked him what the story was with the camels.

The Bucs bench.

The Bucs bench.

The respective managers were good value for money, although with it being free to get in I’m not sure that’s necessarily the right term. The Sorento Bucs boss had a hat that Malcolm Allison would have been proud of, whilst the Western Spurs gaffer went the other way, deciding that bothering with shoes and socks was one distraction too many.

The Spurs bench.

The Spurs bench.

The play was end to end, with both teams seeming to fancy their chances of clinching the win. It was Spurs who pulled it off though when a cross from the right was nodded home ten minutes from time. We could have stayed on for a third game of the day, but the lure of the Boro’s game with Arsenal being on the telly had us heading back to Walvis Bay at the final whistle.

The two Swakopmund matches took the total for the ten day Namibian trip to five football games and a cricket match. I’d been confident of seeing football in Windhoek but the last two games were a definite bonus.

Namibia is a country that’s well worth a visit and with us not having got to the Skeleton coast or Etosha National Park on this trip, we’ve got every excuse to return.

 

 

Buffaloes v United Stars, Sunday 15th February 2015, 10.30am

March 11, 2015

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One week on from the matches in Windhoek, we caught our next Namibian game over on the east coast in Swakopmund. We’d travelled a fair distance in that time, driving south to Fish River Canyon, then across to Luderitz, then back up to Walvis Bay via Sossuslvei  on the east coast.

Fish River Canyon was spectacular. We stayed on the edge and were able to hike along the top in the early morning before it got too hot. We were also driven down to the bottom where the lack of rain meant that the river had dried to no more than a number of rock pools. The fish that were concentrated within these were happy to share our crisps with us.

We were over a hundred kilometres  from the nearest town and with the lack of artificial light it’s the best place I’ve been for looking at the stars.

Fish River Canyon

Fish River Canyon

After the canyon we headed west to the port town of Luderitz. Whilst the drive through the desert was impressive, Luderitz itself was less so. It was windy with not a lot going on, although we did drive past a ‘ghost town’ where an abandoned mining settlement had been left to the encroaching sand dunes.

Part of the ghost town.

Part of the ghost town.

From Luderitz we drove a few hours north to Sossuslvei to see some even bigger sand dunes. We arrived in the evening and went straight out into the desert where the highlight was spotting a couple of jackals.

He blends in pretty well.

He blends in pretty well.

Next morning we were up at four to watch the sun come up over the dunes. We stayed away from the organised tour and after parking up ignored the paths and just wandered off by ourselves. We climbed a couple of dunes, pausing to look at the tracks. Sometimes you’d see where a mouse had crossed the path of a lizard, sometimes a bird had brought the evidence of it having been there to an end by taking off.

There were bigger tracks too of various boks and what was probably a jackal. Maybe one of the ones that we’d seen the previous evening.

Early morning.

Early morning.

Walking down the sand dunes was much more fun than going up as you could sink your feet in a few inches and just let the shifting sand carry you down.

Still early morning.

Still early morning.

An hour or so after sunrise it was already too hot for wandering around and having left our tracks for the next visitor we resumed our journey north.

The next stop was Walvis Bay. It was ok, but nothing special compared with Sossuslvei. It had a few thousand flamingos which are always good for a bit of entertainment and a salt works which was less so.

You don't often see one flying.

You don’t often see one flying.

We then had a drive up the coast to Swakopmund and that’s where we stumbled across a third tier, Erongo region second division game at the Swakopmund Sports Centre.

Buffaloes in green were taking on United Stars in white and green. Green is a popular football colour in Africa. I asked around and learned that we had arrived halfway through the second half with Buffaloes leading 3-2.

United Stars clear their lines.

United Stars clear their lines.

There were around a hundred spectators or so lining the pitch. Some had seats on an four level stepped bench, others just sat along the side on whatever was available.

The main stand.

The main stand.

We found a space near to one of the corner flags which gave us a close up view of a linesman with a large square hole in his shorts. I’m surprised that he hadn’t patched it with a FIFA badge. Most of the officials in Africa seem to have one.

View from down the side.

View from down the side.

The standard was better than I expected, although after watching Cowdenbeath play at New Year everything looks decent in comparison. United Stars put the pressure on in the closing minutes but couldn’t get past the Buffaloes goalie.

Twenty-odd minutes after we’d arrived it was all over and we continued into the town centre for some lunch.

 

UNAM FC v Touch and Go, Sunday 8th February 2015, 2pm

March 11, 2015

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Most of the football teams in the Namibian Premier League are based in Windhoek. That’s not surprising as most Namibians are based in Windhoek. The geographical imbalance meant that Jen and I got the chance to see another game on the Sunday before we headed south in the direction of the Fish River Canyon.

In theory we could have seen two games at the University of Namibia Stadium. There was a match between Rebels and Julinho Sporting Club scheduled for noon followed by the UNAM FC v Touch and Go fixture straight afterwards at two o’clock. We got there at 11:30am only to find the ticket windows unmanned and to be told by a steward that they would open ‘just now’.

View from outside.

View from outside.

‘Just now’ is about as vague as it gets over here. ‘Now now’ is the expression for imminently, whilst ‘just now’ could mean anything from ten minutes to next week.

Forty five minutes later the window opened and we bought our thirty dollar (£1.70) tickets. The latest advice was that a game would start at half past twelve and this was backed up by the information on the ticket. It’s a shame that nobody had mentioned it to the newspapers.

3 - ticket

The stand appeared to have been constructed from chipboard, but at least it had a roof. I was prepared to risk it disintegrating to get a bit of shade though. There weren’t many people in there early on but the crowd swelled to around a hundred or so eventually.

Perhaps someone had been expecting more people to turn up as there were a dozen baton wielding security men lining the gravel running track. Still, I suppose you never know what japes students will get up to next.

View across the chipboard stand.

View across the chipboard stand.

Half past twelve came and went without any sign of the players. Eventually the UNAM team appeared for a warm-up with the obligatory university team nickname ‘Clever Boys’ on their training tops.

The game finally started at two o’clock, which I suppose is just as the newspaper stated. It was the cancellation of the noon game beforehand and the misinformation about the actual start time that was so frustrating. We could have stayed at the cricket had we known that nothing would happen until mid-afternoon.

View to the right.

View to the right.

UNAM were in white with red shorts whilst Touch and Go were in yellow and maroon hoops. Anyway, Touch and Go? Who would name a team something like that? Jimmy Savile?

View to the left.

View to the left.

The pitch was in poor condition, although I suppose the Namibian climatic combination of strong sunshine and infrequent but heavy rain isn’t really conducive to a Wembley standard pitch. Maybe the university should offer a groundsman degree and get those students to spend their days looking after the grass.

Early action.

Early action.

Watching the two o’clock game hadn’t really been in our plans as we needed to get on the road, but there was no way that I was going to hang around for two and a half hours without seeing some football and so we stayed for the first fifteen minutes. Nothing worth mentioning happened and we left with the game goalless. I checked afterwards and and learned that Touch and Go had won three-nil.

 

Namibia v Easterns, Sunday 8th February 2015, 10am

March 9, 2015

1 - opening shot

Whilst the scheduling of football in Africa leaves a lot to be desired with frequent venue and timing changes, cricket is far more reliable. If a game is listed as taking place then it generally does unless, as everywhere, the weather intervenes.

With that in mind I was pleased to see that our stay in Windhoek coincided with a fifty over provincial game between Namibia and the South African side, Easterns. It’s a little odd to see a country competing with regional sides but I suppose it’s similar to Scotland taking part in the one day competitions against the English counties.

As we left our hotel we spotted a couple of Himba kids in the car park. It seems that the market where their mothers flash their jugs is a seven days a week affair. I’d seen the kids in the shopping centre the previous day, wandering around barefoot and wearing nothing more than a string around the waist. I dare say at the ages of three or four they wouldn’t be too bothered about it, but I suspect that they might become a little more self-conscious as they got older.

Himba kids.

Himba kids.

The Wanderers stadium was easy enough to find and after having our car searched we made our way in and parked just behind the scoreboard. I looked the place up on the internet and an England XI had played a couple of one day games against Namibia there in 2004. The first of them being Kevin Pieterson‘s debut for an English representative side.

Play should have started at half past nine, but whilst the players were all milling around, the game had yet to begin. The only action was provided by a kid in a Barcelona away strip using a cricket net as a football goal. Those shirts get everywhere.

Barca kid.

Barca kid.

Jen and I took seats in the shade in front of a bar. As play started we were joined  by two couples, each consisting of a woman reading a magazine and a man compiling his own scorecard. One of the fellas got so infuriated by the inaccuracy of the scoreboard that he left his seat and altered it himself.

There was also a woman sat by herself with an early morning lager. “I love cricket” she told us as she lit another Chesterfield.

View from our seats.

View from our seats.

She wasn’t the only one starting early as there were a handful of people in the bar watching a T20 game on the telly. I imagine the main benefit of being indoors was the air-conditioning.

We’d been to an Easterns game a couple of weeks earlier and in an equally empty venue had sat near to their wicketkeeper‘s Mam. She wasn’t there for this game but I still kept an eye out for her boy, hoping that he’d do okay.

View from the other side.

View from the other side.

We couldn’t stay all day as we had a football game with a noon kick-off to get to, but we watched the first twenty overs or so, Namibia getting to around seventy for two by the time we left them to it.