Rugby is laughable

“My sport is better than your sport…”

So goes the playground-style oneup[person]ship on social media and at braais and even occasionally at the Molton Brown Curry Club.

I don’t usually get involved.

My sport is football, and I understand that it might not be everyone’s cup of tea. Additionally, I also recognise that football has its faults. I’ve been telling the authorities how to sort them out for years and years. Thankfully, it looks like they’ve finally begun to listen.

Finally, some progress being made to make football less laughable.

Meanwhile in rugby (so often the sporting bastion of the anti-footy pisstakers) they’re heading the other way.

Yep – next time some egg-chaser has a pop at my favourite sport, I might just bite back by showing them this… this… utter mess.

That’s the final Super 18 table for this season, and beagle-eyed readers will not amusing little cameos like the fourth placed Brumbies having 34 points and the fifth placed Hurricanes having 58.

That’s really not how leagues should work.

At least football is working to stamp out its problems. Local rugby bosses are compounding and exacerbating their troubles and generally trashing their sport, season by season.

It’s both sad and hilarious to watch (which is something that fewer and fewer fans are doing, unsurprisingly).

Schadenfreude isn’t just a river in Egypt.

Genius Tourism Board

Regular readers know I love Cape Agulhas. It’s my happy place. I walk, I take photos, I fly my drone, I eat, I drink, I braai, I sit, I watch, I enjoy; I love it there. It even has its own category on here. And in my mind, it doesn’t need selling as a tourist destination. But of course, if does need selling as a tourist destination, because there are loads of other amazing places in South Africa, all vying for your visit by being sold as tourist destinations.

Generally, I have to say that the agency responsible for encouraging you to go down south – “Discover Cape Agulhas” – does a pretty good job. And while the drive through the rolling hills of the Southern Cape is usually very enjoyable, I’m really not sure what they were thinking by posting this quote over (arguably) their biggest draw card this morning:

Eish.

Let me set the record straight (if you haven’t worked it out from my first paragraph already):

Yes, the journey is great, especially if you travel well. But arriving is actually what it’s all about – we’ve been through this before. Don’t be put off by the thought of a decent journey being ruined by eventually getting to Cape Agulhas. Because when you get there, it really is very good – I promise.

Despite whatever the tourist agency are hinting at here.

Another flying thing blog post

(After we doubled (or trebled?) up in this one.)

Drug-taking. It’s all the rage in France at the moment. A number of fairly famous drug-takers are cycling around the country in their annual tour, and weirdly, people still want to watch them doing it.

People can be odd.

Best way to watch EPO-fuelled bike riding? Helicopter.

Helicopter times 3, in fact. With drunk pilots.

OK, so clearly, those pilots aren’t drunk. That was a slur against them and their profession in exactly the same way that saying the cyclists are cheating wasn’t. Those circling manoeuvres, avoiding each other and any surrounding buildings and countryside are the perfect way to film the race.

Other not drunk people who have made pretty patterns in the sky more locally include a BA Captain and Bruce Dickinson of Iron Maiden.

Flying things on flying things

I’m travelling again in a few weeks time. And it will be the first international flight I will have done since I got Florence, my little Mavic.

It’s been a wonderful few months together. I can’t imagine being without her, and so, obviously, she must come with us in September.

The rules for carrying drones on planes are pretty much universal. The danger here (such as it is) comes from the lithium ion batteries. Because of its compact size, the Mavic’s batteries are only 43.6Wh a piece. But you still need to follow the protocols, so you discharge them, you cover their terminals and you take them on in your cabin baggage.

Easy.

But we are (thankfully) flying Emirates. And their rules are slightly different.

Now, Emirates are the only airline I have heard of that have this policy. I don’t understand why they need to be different, but (and I am saying this in hushed tones) I’ve never really worked out how you were allowed to take a drone on a flight anyway, given that it could be easily used as a dangerous weapon (those propellers can get up to 8000rpm). Eina.

Still, having checked with other drone owners online, there are various anecdotes about getting through DXB and not getting through DXB with a drone in your cabin and/or hold luggage. And I’m not massively happy about Florence being gooied around in a suitcase. I’ll give the airline a shout.

One thing we won’t be taking with us is the beagle. Three reasons here:

1. A week apart is good for everyone concerned (most especially me).
2. The beagle is not a falcon.
3. We’re not going to certain destinations in Pakistan.

Wow.

Presumably, this isn’t just any falcon. You can’t just turn up with a falcon you snatched from your local National Park the previous day. Or with a beagle disguised as a falcon.

So majestic – see how it soars on the breeze! Such effortless grace!
[crashing sound, frantic barking, further crashing sounds]

I can’t believe you can take a falcon into the cabin, but not a Mavic.
It can even go in a cage if it needs to.

I’ll give the airline a shout.

A Day In The Life

As I point out fairly regularly on here, I’m hardly a full time blogger. I do blog every day, but it’s not my job and I certainly don’t make a living from it. [cries internally]

There are, apparently, some similarities between me and a full-time blogger though. I saw this post earlier, and I noted the chord that was struck by his 10am and 10:15am comments. (I left the 9:30am one in because, you know, I’m still always hopeful.)

Of course, because this isn’t my full-time job, when I can’t think of anything to blog, the only loser is you, the reader. I’ll stick up a photo that I took in 2008 if I have to fill the space, and it does neither me nor my bank balance any harm.

And hey, you might get lucky and get something (only) a little more imaginative, like this.

But I wouldn’t hold your breath.