Archive for November, 2011

Baking mad

of course it's not the one I made

It comes to something when you figure that the best way to get rid of the flour that seems to have accumulated in your kitchen, is to bake cakes. I think it might be because we’ve just had our oven fixed and it now actually cooks in normal time, as opposed to ‘fast forward two hours later and the top of the lasagneis slightly tinged time’.

Still, it meant that the other one did get a birthday present, only it was too small for me to jump out of.

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It started with my french teacher cancelling classes – the boss stopped learning and I plummeted in importance, I felt unwanted. Then I found out, my teacher was leaving the country – way to go to feel worse. Then I discovered my new teacher is an intern, i.e. the person who gets given all the s**t jobs. High five me!

Maybe they’re trying to tell me that my time could be better spent doing something more important –  like I don’t know, scooping up poop? Paris…now where better to start? And it would it matter that I can’t speak french? Would it hell, they’d so speak English to me anyway.

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Pooper scooped…

No not the cat but a potty training child. She thinks the potty is mobile, scoots around the living room on said potty, potty tips over, potty isn’t  empty, Dad scoops up. I gag.


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You’ve been minxed!

The cat sleeps on our bed (on nights she deigns to grace us with her presence) she wakes us up at 4am so that we can let her out, she turns her nose up at her food, moves away when she doesn’t want to be stroked and always plonks herself right in the middle of whatever it is she’s sat on while me and the other one, on either side of her, are squashed to buggery.

She’s not going anywhere is she?

I might as well face the truth, I’m about to become a  crazy cat person.

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Seychelles vs Kenya – Pre World Cup qualifier

Let’s face it, it’s probably the only chance I’ll ever get to go a pre World Cup qualifier, but based upon my experience of watching Seychelles play Zimbabwe last year, I wasn’t labouring under any pretensions that they might actually win. I don’t say that to be mean and having had conversations with people at work, some were surprised that I was bothering to watch them at all (they’ve obviously never been Man City fans  – and yes I know they’re doing very well now, what was it again, 6-1 against Man U oh, how I’ll never tire of that :  )

We paid our 35 rupee entry (at less than £2 they were the most expensive seats) and settled in on the concrete bleachers for the drama to begin. The other one looked a little uncomfortable… I’ve spoken about it before, but have yet to come to terms with it, its   my football tourettes that’s to blame. I can’t help myself, I can’t shut up, I just shout stuff at the players and I don’t know what I’m talking about, I mean every game I have to double check with the other one what offside is. I’ve made progress I  now get the concept but am still too slow to actually ever see it happen.

They were clearly at team that felt more comfortable with their relatively new Seychellois football coach, RALPH Jean-Louis (coach for club team St Michel) than with their previous guys, including Andrew ‘I’m not the guy from City’ Amers Morrison (if you don’t know the story you have to read this, its hilarious). They were playing like a different team,  albeit one that still lost 4-0, but I thought they were plucky. But then, really, what do I know?

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Su Su Subios...someone had to do it

Festivals, or anything remotely close to an outdoor gathering with music and stalls, happen about once or twice a year in Seychelles and this year was a double whammy combining the Seychelles Festival of the Sea and Regatta, which made a half decent reason to go to the beach and an effort for us to get out of the house on a Saturday afternoon. Afternoon, yes, a sure sign of ageing – the idea of going out during the evening, what with all the carousing and revelry and young pups, being far too much too contemplate.

Stalls were lined up behind Beau Vallon, the area now closed to the Wednesday night market ‘Bazar Labrin’ for health and safety reasons, but presumably fine for half the population of Seychelles to rock there over the weekend. There was clearly some entrepreneurial spirit on show; homemade hoopla with empty beer bottles and a 5 rupee a go, pull a string thing. I pulled it – I didn’t win anything. I think the point was if the string was long (or coloured I can’t remember), I got a prize, lord knows what. I think all the good stuff  had gone to the Seychelles Roundtable raffle – first prize a car. Needless to say, I didn’t win that either.

Old school

We hung out by the five a side football – proudly sponsored by Heineken – next to which was their beer tent- not that that had any bearing on why we there at all. There wasn’t any music playing on the Vijay (they seem to build everything in Seychelles) barge thing, that came later – but a great idea. Luckily, we managed to bag a table at the Chili’s tent right before the heavens opened, chomped on some grub, and made it home through the deluge, watching the rain pour as we sat in our flat feeling like vindicated old duffers.

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How many channels…

and can I find anything to watch?

You’d think going from two channels to, I don’t know, 50, I’d not be that fussy but no I am a woman demented with a remote control. Can I wait for VH1 to finish its music montage promo? No. For E! Entertainment to give me a QuickE? No. For BBC Entertainment to give me a sponsors ad (what’s that about?)? No. For Mnet something or other to finish another terrible trailer for Jacob’s Cross? No. I had to ask the other one to take the control off me, I was overcome by compulsion.

I’m worried that it might affect my blogs and I’ll no longer having the attention span to write more than a few sentences…

Ah, yes, Twitter.

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Cable for cat…

She is very cute

All of a sudden it was time for our neighbours to go and despite notices in the local paper, posts on Social

one reason for not watching much TV

Seychelles and posters around the school, a potential cat owner could not be found. Looks like we were getting a cat.

But we’re shallow people.

We also got our neighbours cable TV box (saving us  a whole £75) and the account transferred to us.

The other one wouldn’t know now if the cat had brought him a present as he’s too damn busy working out whether he’s seen the football match thats playing on the Supersport 1, 2, 5, 4, 1005, million or not. If he sees six goals put in the net by a team in pale blue, he can be probably be reassured that he has.

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Someone was interested in the cat and the other one was very pleased – for the cat that is.

‘It’ll be really nice for her, apparently the person lives really close to the beach.’

Minx was thrilled when we told her, she’s going to get herself a new bikini and sarong. And she’ll be able to go fishing really easily too.

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10km killjoy

the other one only runs for the t-shirts

The other one announced the intention to run in every running event that they’re holding in Seychelles over the next few months i.e. every month. October’s was cancelled because of bad weather and so it’s come round again -and am I any fitter or more joyful about taking part? Am I buggery but if he can do it so can I.

The race was from Bel Ombre to the end of Beau Vallon beach and back again; a route we did last year and which I remember for one thing only; hills.

It didn’t ‘t help that the race started at 4.30pm – when there was a chance that the weather might be cooler – it wasn’t, the sun actually deciding to come about the time that we began to ran. It’s timing about as good as mine was to do the race.  There were a few people there who we knew, including my french teacher, and feeling nervous, I couldn’t bear to make small talk with any of them, so they probably think either I’m really rude, or really into warming up.

The other one disappeared pretty quickly after the race start as did most of the other runners and as the youngsters who were only doing 5km finished up, it became blatantly obvious that hardly anyone was running 10km, there was me and about 3 others behind me.

I found it really tough going, my music was doing little to spur me on and neither were the many different curses that I dreamed up to blame the other one for another fine mess he got me into (obviously it was all his fault). Passing the police station, the first time, only halfway through was bad enough, but passing it again, knowing that I had three massive hills before me and I’d been overtaken by two of the three people who were behind me, nearly broke me. I laboured on and managed the briefest of sprints as I saw the finish line come into view. I made it in one hour and thirteen. My french teacher was disappointed, she was 10 minutes slower than the year before and she’d done it in 55 minutes, incroyable.

I soon felt better after a beer and fag on the beach.

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