There was a time when we first came down here to the Southern Tip, that there was no MTN signal and only GPRS internet on Vodacom. Things have moved on since those positively medieval times though, and now there is 3G internet and Vodacom (and still not MTN signal). One can, should one be sufficiently bothered, stream football matches in (almost) HD quality.
But not this week.
I’m no expert on how cellphone transmitters work, but I’d imagine that some have more capacity than others. And it stands to reason that if this is the case, then the ones with smaller capacities will be cheaper than the ones with the larger capacities. So why put in an expensive mast to serve the sleepy villages of L’Agulhas (population: 548) and Suiderstrand (population: er… 44)? Rather save your cash and make your shareholders a little happier.
The trouble is that for a couple of weeks every year, the population of these places is temporarily swelled by several thousand Vaalies who also can like to use the cellphone network and wash their double cab bakkies with the precious local water twice a day.
Our little transmitter wasn’t built for this sort of thing.
And thus, while the MTN consumers in the village are wholly unaffected, because half zero is still zero, I’m completely unable to connect to the internet with any reasonable consistency or speed because everyone else wants to do it too. I started uploading this post three months ago.
Even trying to keep up with Sheffield United’s demolition of Blackburn Rovers yesterday was extremely difficult.
Blogging will continue though. No matter what it takes*.
* terms and conditions apply.
I’ve loved listening to this wonderfully fragile, simple offering from Thom Yorke for the past few weeks, now. (Yes, it’s on this Spotify playlist.) So I was obviously delighted to find this live performance for 6Music on Youtube.
I know not all my readers enjoy my musical posts (although, reasonably, how could you not love this piece?), but I do have clear evidence that there are others who do enjoy a break from the endless words on here (including me), and thus they are here to stay.
Tomorrow’s post is about music, but isn’t actually music, which will probably suitably alienate both parties.
Well, apart from this one, obviously.
I was going to write reams about really exciting stuff when I sat down yesterday evening, but then an accidental click here (or there), and suddenly I was down the rabbit hole that is Only Connect Series 9.
It even beat the football for my viewing pleasure.
I might still be watching as I – they’re the only countries to have those as their last letter of their name – as I am writing this. Maybe I’ve just given away the fact that I’m writing this yesterday evening.
Maybe I’ll pop something up later in the day. But then again, I might not.
I have a very busy day planned.
So, I wouldn’t hold your breath.
I mean, I couldn’t if I tried.
While watching Sheffield United go ahead, self-destruct, and then come back to get another 3-2 victory [link], I realised that I hadn’t blogged today and now we’re off out for sushi. And beer.
I would have blogged earlier, but there was a garden to repair and a Green Belt to walk a beagle in.
I did both, and with the Blades winning again, I now deserve a treble celebration in the form of raw fish and Black Label.
See you tomorrow.
Regular readers (lol at the plural) may have noticed that this blog has been very regular of late. Maybe it’s the added Fibre?
Each morning at 8am CAT, a new blog offering arrives and is hastily devoured by the clamouring hoards. All of it.
That’s because I generally write the posts the day before, and then – through the magic of WordPress – get them to appear the following day. It’s not like I have time or the energy to be that creatively brilliant that early in the morning. Or sometimes, ever.
Yesterday however, rather than writing a blog post, I walked on beaches and enjoyed the (gale force) wind and sea spray in my hair.
It was an amazing day in Cape Agulhas, and we were shocked to return home later in the evening to filthy weather in the Mother City.
I’m not sorry that I made the decision to walk rather than write.
But I hope you weren’t waiting at 8 this morning for a post that never came.
Come back tomorrow, when all will be back to normal.