We were loadshod during the good TV and the Champions League last night. I knew that it was coming, so it wasn’t that much of a problem, but halfway through, I was bored already, having done all the things I had planned to do. So I shot my candle.
Handheld, with my 50mm lens. 1/50s, f/2.5, ISO 100.
We got these ‘cheap and nasty’ candles a few years ago now, but they burn so brightly and they last for ages.
No loadshedding planned for this evening, so it’s candle-free pizza and Europa League all the way.
Loadshedding continues to dominate the news and our lives.
But in the holiday town of Knysna, it’s only upset their Saturday evening plans by 1 hour.
You really couldn’t make it up. And actually, on this occasion, I didn’t.
The country’s gone to shit, there’s literally not enough power to keep the lights lit, but we’re still hanging on by a thread…
Here are the loadshedding schedules for CAPE TOWN including stages 6, 7 and 8…ahead of the great darkness that lies beyond.
Good luck and stay safe out there, people.
Good afternoon from Cape Town.
I’m sitting here writing a blog post to take my mind off the fact that I will be missing at least the first half hour of Sheffield United’s match at Norwich City because there’s loadshedding (“rolling blackouts”) and we’re being loadshod right now. There are no electricitys.
How am I writing this, then? Well, my laptop has a battery. However, the router does not have a battery, so I’m writing this offline with the intention of uploading it once the power comes back on again at 4:30.
I could connect to the internet via my phone, but that gets properly pricey after a while (because data in SA is ridiculously expensive), so let’s just wait for (only slightly less expensive) fibre to come back on and then I’ll get it done.
Sadly, as an average SA consumer, I don’t have any choice when it comes to being loadshod. I pay my bills, I pay my taxes, and yet I still get very little in return. In the current (no pun intended) situation, nothing at all. And so you just have to get on with life. But that doesn’t mean that I must be content with the way that things are. Just because we are powerless (slight pun intended) to change the situation, doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t be irritated about it: normalising loadshedding is not a healthy way to deal with a problem which has been brought about by mismanagement, corruption and general kakocracy.
And so for several hours each day, we walk this weird tightrope between sighing acceptance and fully justified anger.
I fully admit though that it is, more than ever this time, beginning to wear me down a little.
It was all going really well. Far too well, now I look back upon it.
I’d fixed the shelves in the boy’s bedroom (although I did use my swearing quota for the month while doing so), I’d been to the gym and nailed a reasonable cardio workout, I had even gone and done the odd jobs I had promised to do at the mother-in-law’s place.
I deserved brandy and football.
But the brandy is (apparently) alcoholic, and I’m trying to be a good boy as far as alcohol goes this week. It’s one of those things I try to do every now and again that (sadly) does actually make me feel a bit healthier and ever so self-righteous. I’ll miss it, but at least there’s still the football.
And then came the threat of loadshedding. On a football night:
As I write, the threat hasn’t materialised, but if it does materialise, the first you’ll know about it is an abrupt
end to this post. My zone is scheduled to go off for the whole of the first half (and some of the second half) of all of the Europa League quarter finals. That would almost certainly mean having to dip into the May swearing allowance.
And probably some brandy for good measure.