Happiness can be a very elusive quality for some people and now we know why! According to recent research those who sleep on the left hand side of the bed are happier and less stressed than those who sleep on the right so I read in the International Express (so it must be true). Lefties are more cheerful and positive and can cope with their workloads more efficiently. They are more confident and more likely to be in permanent employment. According to the survey which was conducted by the Premier Hotel Group, the only thing those sleeping on the right have going for them, is that they earn slightly more money!

I reported this to my better half last night who was relaxed and very happily lying on the left hand side of the bed. His position in life …or in sleep…was responsible for all my troubles, I informed him. He was not convinced nor was he willing to test this theory and allow me one day of potential happiness by swapping sides. Hmmm! I continued to read the paper and consider my lot in life. Was I doomed to a life of misery? Realising I was not alone helped to console me as there must be a ‘leftie’ and a ‘rightie’ in all relationships I thought. Perhaps I should form a support group for others who are condemned to a life on the right side of the bed and the wrong side of life! A Lindt truffle and a small glass of milk would sweeten my lot in life a little, I informed my better half who groaned but dutifully went to fetch them for me. It worked like a charm!

When he returned ……..I was occupying the left hand side of the bed and looking like the cat that got the cream. I am looking forward to a day of happiness. Roll over Beethoven!

I’ve been meaning to write about Taxis for a while – Since the Mount Road off ramp closed actually, and I have had to come off at Albany Road and drive through North End at least twice a week – For those who are reading this overseas – I am not taking about London cabs type of taxi! In South Africa we have a whole different transport system where people carriers that seat 13 passengers are used to transport most of the African population around. It is like nothing experienced in Europe – think drag racing for mini-buses!

The buses themselves are a feast to the eyes – many have parts missing, some are like metal patchwork wonders. When we had the World Cup here – was it only a year ago? A lot of them were replaced – subsidised by FIFA and most are already looking decidedly worn out!

They have names like “Terminator”, “Hail Mary”, 2fast 2furious and No Limits – I ask you would you get in a vehicle with such a name? They actually all share a common name – “Death Trap”. They follow no rules and can not be anticipated. They will stop in front of you whenever is convenient for them, they will pass you on the right, or by cutting in front of oncoming traffic. They will try to turn right from the extreme left lane. They will drive on verges and almost run you off the road trying to gap in. What they won’t do is give you any warning. I am only here to tell the tale because my brakes are serviced regularly and thank Goodness I drive alone – I ‘flooked’ my way down Govan Mbeki Drive – more than the paintwork on my car was blue!
Bump! Bump! Bump! and that’s just the bass from the sound system they have – They’re never gonna hear their grandchildren sing – they will ALL be stone deaf before they turn 40!
Apparently the Taxi Industry has just launched an airline – the mind boggles at who will fly with it!

This weekend I am celebrating – The Mount Road off ramp has reopened and I will not have to take my life in my hands navigating North End any more – Sadly thousands of locals who have to use this mode of transport do….. and that is no laughing matter!

Today has been a milestone day in my life! I went to a new hairdresser. This may seem a little melodramatic to some of you but to me it really is a champagne moment – you see I have been in an abusive relationship with my previous hairdresser for many years – fifteen of them if my memory serves me right! During this time I have had many hair raising moments as she has been through two …or three husbands – I may have been under the dryer for one of them. She has also had every operation a woman can have and I have been subjected to graphic details of her intestines and have an intimate knowledge of her medical aid plan.
Her bazaar collection of friends have sat next to my at the basin while she gave them drug/HIV/alcohol counselling and once I sat next to a Maltese poodle at the basin – I was too afraid to ask why he was there.
I have also empathised when her domestic stole all her possessions, bought handcrafted ‘jewellery’ to try and keep her above the poverty line and have a drawer full of hair products that I will never use!
Why? I hear you asking, did you not get out of there soon? Well she’s very good with my hair, and those of you who know me well know that I have a problematic relationship with my hair….or lack of it! Her hairdressing skills were beyond reproach but her life was an ongoing saga of bad fortune and instead of walking out from my pamper session feeling uplifted and renewed, I walked out of there with beautiful hair but feeling inwardly like I had been dragged through a hedge backwards!

The salon itself was looking tattier and tattier – the silk flowers dustier, the magazines a decade old and the towels worn and there have been times when I have sat looking at myself waiting for my colour to take, itching to get up and clean the mirror with a vinegar solution to cut through grime! I feel it many have been getting to the point when I would have to inspect the hairbrush for poodle hair before my blow dry!
The decision was made a fortnight ago when I received an SMS to tell me her husband had passed away (very inappropriate I know) and in the moment that I read it I had a fast forward to what future hair appointments would become – grief counselling sessions and heartless as it sounds – I just couldn’t do that! I realised that I have been putting her needs before mine and then paying her for the privilege of rescuing her! What an idiot I am!

So today – I sat in a modern, well equipped salon listening to gentle music and the lively chatter of happy people around me. I was offered coffee – a trendy selection of magazines and some tasty snippets of gossip from my new hairdresser – he’s tall, dark, handsome and soooo gay! I felt like a million dollars when I walked out and my hair……..FABULOUS!
PS. Yes – I feel a tad guilty – I suppose when you have had the same person messing with your head for fifteen years that’s normal.

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I am on a training programme – being developed – being stretched and loving it. I am acquiring the skills to become a business coach and as well as being exposed to new information and modern thinking around positive psychology, there is the practical element around the honing of listening and questioning skills.
We have also been exposed to a number of activities and exercises to encourage ‘mindfulness’. Mindfulness is a state of active, open attention on the present. When you’re mindful, you observe your thoughts and feelings from a distance, without judging them good or bad. Instead of letting your life pass you by, mindfulness means living in the moment and awakening to experience as it is happening. In practice sessions we have breathed in such a way as to pay special attention as to where that breath is going – even to the point of imagining the colour of it. We have relaxed our body one part at a time – starting at our toes and working our way up to our scalp – yes I have learned that you can contract and relax your scalp! We have conjured up in our minds scenes of great beauty, places we didn’t want to leave and we have mentally immersed ourselves into cool streams and freshly mown grass. All of this has been enlightening and truly enjoyable – raising awareness of ourselves and our world. And that is how I found myself this morning sat in Central having a conversation with a raisin!
We had to study our raisin, touch our raisin, smell our raisin, taste our raisin and listen to our raisin! I tried very hard to be mindful but all I could think about are some of the conversations that I would have with my raisin and other fruits.

•Would there be a bitter argument with a lemon?
•Sour grapes?
•A crisp conversation with a Golden Delicious?
•Contemplation with a ‘navel’ orange?
•Talking with a plum in my mouth?
•Celebrate by going bananas?
•Say pretty please with a cherry on top?
•Be a perfect pear?
•Let it be known who is the apple of my eye?
•Get passionate with a grenadilla?
•Ask the fruit of the palm tree for a date?
•Dig up some juicey gossip?
All of this is very corny – is that a vegetable or a cereal? I tried very hard to be mindful with my raisin but the sweet temptation of jumping into the fruit bowl was just too good to resist!
Seriously though I shall practice being mindful every day and will be ‘raisin’ my ‘currant’ levels of mindfulness at every opportunity.

I can’t believe my eyes as I watch BBC showing the rioting and lawlessness that some cities in Britain are being subjected to! Instantly the state of the nation and the government is blamed but actually governments don’t raise children – parents do!
I have relations with children who are the same age as those who are smashing shop windows and helping themselves to iPhones and TV sets, and they aren’t doing this. Why? Because they know that if they brought anything home that was stolen or they couldn’t explain where the money to buy it had come from – then they would be punished and quite likely be marched down to the police station to explain to the authorities where they had got it from. No – I don’t blame the government or the police – these thugs have parents – who have been too busy or too lazy to raise their children with discipline and to value responsibility and respect.

Having had four sons – I know the challenges that parents face. We once took one of our own sons to Kabega Park Police station for some misdemeanour and told them to lock him up for the night! Of course they didn’t (but we were quite prepared to leave him there) but the message was clear – If you break the law don’t expect us to protect you – and if you are old enough to do wrong then you must be prepared to suffer the consequences.
Sadly a lot of modern parents seem to have opted out of the responsibility that comes with having children – preferring to be a ‘friend’ to their child or buying good behaviour with expensive rewards. This is to the detriment of all of society as once they are an adult they have no respect for authority and little idea of their role to serve the community.
Now the same parents are being held to ransom by lawless mobs but so too is everyone else. I am not sure how they are going to undo a generation of bad parenting but perhaps if you know your child was involved then some tough love is in order. The last few nights have been a violent reality check and it’s time to take ownership of your responsibility as a parent. Don’t blame the government – blame yourself!

I promised a sequel to my last blog and here it is…..So there we were after a lovely day out at the Grahamstown Festival ready for home and wending our way towards the N2 when we saw hazard lights and the traffic stopped to a standstill. Road works we thought – we’ll be stuck here for 10 minutes! Fifteen minutes later we were still stuck there and we got the pies out – the ones we had bought for our loved ones on the way there – sorry loved ones! Twenty minute – half an hour – No this wasn’t road works – we sent an SMS to our contacts at Radio Algoa and were rewarded with some information. – there had been a major accident up ahead and the road was likely to be blocked for SEVERAL HOURS!

So we were stuck on a pitch dark road in the middle of nowhere with no way out! Immediately I became thirsty – I think this happens in the desert when you drink your last drop of water! The moment you know its not available you start craving it! I regretted eating that salty pie. Five minutes later I was fantasising about waterfalls, rain forests and had a thirst the size of the Churchill Dam. I mentioned casually to Helen that we may have to drink our own urine….and on cue 3 gentlemen ( I use the term loosely) got out of the car in front and casually emptied their bladders right in front of us – Gross!!! Not to mention the waste of water!

I have to mention that all the time we were sat there in the line of traffic – cars kept screaming up on our right to see what the problem was – 5 minutes later we would see them pass again, having had to do a U turn when they realised that the thirty cars in front of them weren’t having a leisurely picnic. We saw a couple of ambulances go through and THEN the police came and we were all told to turn around as the road indeed would be closed for several hours as the photographers had still to come from PE. It was indeed a very serious accident. We were re-routed through Paterson.

The road to Paterson is unlit, gravel, muddy, narrow and full of potholes. It was a hell of a journey – made more hellish by our dear travelling companions – all the others that were stuck on the dark road – who decided that their reason for getting home first was more important than anyone else’s. I couldn’t believe it!

On that unlit, gravel, muddy, narrow road that is full of potholes -it was like wacky races as cars overtook, tailgated, spun gravel, blared full beams and generally disregarded every traffic rule or human courtesy in their desire to get there first! I am surprised that there wasn’t another accident and astonished that having just left the scene of one fatal one – that these idiots couldn’t have driven more sensibly and with more thought for others safety!

Then I remembered TIA – this is Africa – the road accident capital of the world! IDIOTS!

I was really happy to see the lights of the N2 and even more happy to climb into a warm bed with a l-o-n-g drink of hot tea. I gave thanks for a lovely day and our safe return – no thanks to the nutters on the road.

I jumped out of the car on my way to the Festival to take a photo of the mist, hanging low over the valley and creating one of those surreal landscapes that make you believe that its the sea you are looking at and not the sky – I looked down to check my footing and found this jewelled spider web waiting for me, the earth laying its treasure at my feet – WOW!

On Friday I made my annual pilgrimage to Grahamstown to feed my artistic soul and take part in the biggest show in Southern Africa – the Grahamstown Arts Festival. Yes – I know – Last year I said I was going to stay over and see three shows a day in my cerise and black floral palazzo pants! Life and work got in the way so it was an early start with pies as usual for breakfast, eaten in the same car park under a wintry sun. not just any pies – those pies from Nanaga Farm Stall that acts as a magnet to most cars – impossible to drive past at any time of year!

The promise of three shows a day that was vowed last year was a reality though and we arrived to watch our first, Two Women – Two Worlds starring Val McLane, senior UK actress from the North East of England, and Nomhle Nkonyeni, premier South African actress from the Eastern Cape, comparing and contrasting their lives in different countries on two different continents. Fabulous Festival Fare! It finished at 12 noon and our next show started at 12 noon so we flew to the next venue to see – David Newton our favourite comedian. We arrived to a packed venue and found ourselves sitting in the aisle staring up at a blow up doll and laughing ourselves silly at this very talented South African comedian. He told us that he now lives in LA – not sure if he was joking – but if its true, its very sad that SA has lost this comic genius.

Of course his show was about the messiness, the impossible mechanics and the embarrassment of sex and the audience lapped it up! Phew! We had an hours break before our next show so we headed up to the Village Green to park our car and as tempted as we were by a quick preview, we made our way to St Andrews Drill Hall so we could get a good seat for the highlight of our day London Road.

This amazing piece of theatre was performed last year to sold out audiences and this year too – there were people queuing just in case there were any no-shows or begging to sit in the aisle or watch from the sides. It is a beautifully written play set in Sea Point, about the unlikely friendship of an aging South African, white, Jewish widow Rosa and Stella a young, black, illegal immigrant from Nigeria. Robyn Scott and Ntombi Makhutsh portray these characters to perfection and took us on a journey that made us laugh, cry, think, question and celebrate life and friendship. They well deserved their standing ovation and I feel really privileged to have watched it.

Then it was time for coffee and the Village Green – our very own Vuvotela were on site to serve us our favourite cappuccinos with just the right amount of caffeine and froth to get us around the stalls.
This year the was the usual mind boggling array of headgear to add to the collection and plenty of handmade crafts and eats to carry home. My eclectic purchases include tin mugs with attached mug hugs, a pretty pendant that will protect me from harm and evil spells, a crocheted flower broach, black and white spotted slipper socks, home made fudge and almond nougat and a cosy bob hat or is it a tea cosy?

Time for home and to reflect on not just another year’s festival finished, but the creative spirit of Africa that dwells in our region and the incredible talent we have in this country. If only that talent extended to driving skills our day would have been perfect!
But that’s a story for my next blog!

In my opinion there is nothing that brings out our competitive streak than air travel and airports are very amusing places to watch people at their very worst. It never ceases to amaze me that once the checking procedure is completed and you have made your way over the cattle grid, along the barriers that make you feel that you are in a sheep pen, through the assorted XRay machines and the indignity of taking various items of clothing off (thank you Bin Laden) and into the departure lounge where there are NEVER enough seats and the toilets are always in the furthest corner and the coffee is twice the price of the other side of the wall ….then its important to remember that we ALL have a boarding pass, our luggage IS on board and EVERYONE has a seat on the plane and it wont take off any sooner!

So why on earth do you start forming THAT queue as soon as there is an iota of activity by the gate and why do you all stand so close to each other and push and shove and sprint the last 50metres. Next time you are in the departure lounge – breathe deeply, relax and repeat after me “We all have a seat on the plane!”

I have just returned on JHB – PE flight and want to add that half of the passengers stood up as the seat belt sign went off (I am sure one or two of them landed standing) and then had to stand for another 15 mins or so till they opened the plane door! Same people raced across the tarmac while talking on mobile phones – thats also part of the race – who can put it on first! They were still waiting for their luggage when I got there!

In the middle of winter where do we all want to be – Yes! on a tropical island enjoying a Pina Colada while gentle breezes waft the warm air through our sarongs. In a week full of incessant rain (I really do try to be grateful for this dry continent but it’s hard), flooded roads, muddy gardens and damp washing – I would gladly maroon myself on an island.

My niece’s blog Project Forty contributed to this fantasy with her mention of Desert Island Discs – For my South African friends this is a BBC Radio Programme that interviews different celebrities and plays their choice of music that would accompany them should they have the option to spend time in seclusion on an island. Desert Island Discs is one of those wonderful BBC Radio Programmes that has been on air for half a century and has become a bit of an institution. I had forgotten all about it, but having been reminded, I had to visit the website and I spent most of the afternoon and a considerable amount of my bandwidth, reconnecting with the familiar format of the show. What a pleasure to listen to those plummy British accents and to the variety of music that people choose – sadly without the Pina Colada!
Several years ago in the run up to the film Castaway with Tom Hanks, my book club challenged us to bring to book club one item that we would take with us to an island should we be shipwrecked. As you can expect a variety of items emerged from our bags, that we confessed to being unable to live without – shampoo, a can of Coke, The Bible, sunscreen, chocolate, a fishing rod – it was noted that no one had brought their husband! My initial thought was that I would take a piano as I have always wanted to learn to play and have never had the opportunity, or the time to learn. I reasoned that if I was a complete failure as a musician, then at least I would be able to saw the legs off it and sail away into the sunset on it. Doesn’t that conjure up a romantic picture! That was until I saw the film – once I saw Tom Hanks sucking uncooked crab meat into his salty lips and eating raw fish – I realised that I would have to be practical and took a box of matches (this was before the days of trendy sushi).

However if I was given the luxury of choosing 8 Desert Island Discs I think that these would be my choices:

Stairway to Heaven – Led Zeppelin

Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds – The Beatles

Nellie the Elephant – Mandy Miller

Father and Son – Cat Stevens

Nimrod Variations – Sir Edward Elgar

Never Never Never – Shirley Bassey

Good Vibrations – The Beach Boys

My Baby Just Cares for Me – Nina Simone

Having struggled to narrow my options down to eight I can guess that if I was asked this question tomorrow or any other day, it may look very different. However I do believe that there would be one song that would always appear – Nellie the Elephant! It just cracks me up every time I hear it and puts me back in my five year old body giggling and swaying along! Trump! Trump! Trump!
What would your choices be?

Last weekend I was able to tick one of the items on ‘bucket’ list. When my friend Johanne, said that she was planning a trip in a hot air balloon to celebrate her birthday, my immediate response was to say I was coming with her! I love flying and even more on those little planes, I have enjoyed parasailing on two occasions and I would still like to paraglide. Last year I flew through the air hanging onto a cable on a canopy tour in Tsitsikamma and now I have gently wafted through the skies dangling from a balloon. It was awesome!

It was peaceful – so quiet up there amongst the clouds – looking down on the birds. We had an early start and arrived at the launch field in the dark. The ground crew set to work unpacking the enormous furled up balloon which stretched about sixty metres in length. The basket was attached and then the task of getting air inside the balloon with the assistance of rather large fans – then a couple of blasts of heat and the balloon started to rise. It’s a pretty skillful procedure and the way in which the team did it all so efficiently gave me (and I am sure the others) the confidence to step into the basket and upwards we drifted towards the moon which was still visible in the dawn sky.

Up and Up and Up but so gently that you didn’t feel the ascent. I thought we may drift towards the Swartberg mountains to look down on farmland and game, but the air currents had a different plan and sent us over Oudtshorne to look over ‘lego’ land – well that’s what it looked like from above – with ants scurrying around it on their way to work. Ironically we drifted towards the prison too and I thought how sad the inmates must feel watching the balloon and the people in it be and feel so free while they were definitely not!

Of course we had a spectacular backdrop of blue mountains to frame our views and were able to witness the sun’s first rays peeping above them and rising high into the sky. We enjoyed over an hour of voyeurism – silently observing the wold beneath and then sadly our descent started and we bounced to a halt in the veld next to the airfield.

Our capable ground crew drove along to meet us and with a glass of champagne we toasted our happy landing. Its an experience to remember and on reflection I learned that:

* Sometimes the important people in your life/team stay on the ground while you enjoy the experience.

* It’s not easy to go with the flow but sometimes you have to.

* You will travel higher and further if you don’t carry heavy baggage with you.

* You don’t need half the stuff you think that you need

* Journeys are fun when there are others there to share them with you.

* Turbulence and crash landings may be dangerous and exciting but a soft and gentle landing is the best!