Can giraffes cough?

Can giraffes cough?

According to some, no. Fiction. But what giraffes can do is stoop
low, lift their stubby little paws and board a Boeing 747 home to
South Africa. Fact.

This is precisely what one little giraffe did when she headed south
for the wilting days of British summer, the whole of autumn 2010 and
a fair chunk of winter in order to dip one toe in the Indian Ocean,
another in the Atlantic and stick her head above the canopy and nibble
on jungle.

Follow her African Safari Picnic over Table Mountain and through the
undergrowth as she becomes the first giraffe to contribute to the

Sunday 8 August 2010

countdown

Today is my last day of stationary freedom for the next two and a half weeks. 

Tomorrow morning, at 8am, I shall strap myself into my Chevy (car, not truck, sigh) and wheel myself out of homely little Fish Hoek and down to Pringle Bay in the Overberg to begin The Great Inspection.

I'll be on my tod - my work buddy Ollie is pootling up to the Winelands in our other car - and visiting up to six guest houses, B&Bs, treetop cabins, game parks, beach villas, charter boats, country cabins, hammock havens and glampy mud huts a day, and begging for a pillow and a cup-a-soup in the final one each evening before once more getting into my wagon at dawn's crack and doing it all over again.

My mission is to check that all the old places who have been in the Greenwood Guide before are still standing - and that the owners are still nicer than your own favourite granny and gramps - and whether or not the new places who'd like to be in the 2011/12 edition of the book fit our friendly little bill…:



things we like
...unstuffy, humorous hosts who treat their guests like friends, cherished gardens, good food, untouristy places, dirt roads, the lived-in look, the unusual, the artistic, the eco-friendly, creative interior design, historic buildings, modern architecture, big baths, powerful showers, imaginative breakfasts, open fires, real coffee, freshly-squeezed orange juice…..




things we don't like
...conference centres, identikit bedrooms, chain hotels; hosts who disappear irretrievably after your arrival... or never leave you alone; swirly, frilly, lacy décor; the smelly, the over-priced, the sickeningly cutesy; fake smiles, hatchet faces and steely eyes!


Then, on 27th August (incidentally, baby sister giraffe's birthday), having looped down through the Overberg, along the Garden Route and up and over the top back towards the Atlantic side of the country, I flop back into Fish Hoek, sleep for a day, and then begin to write up my findings. And then, when I've just about recovered, I pick a new area of the country and plot a route map all over again. 

And then I lather, rinse, repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat... as needed. Until the whole country has been inspected.

Wish us luck. And send help.

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