I left in good time to pick up some cash at the money machine to pay for the last few days on the motorbike and get to Constantia. What kind of stumped me was that Tony was not home. Indeed no one was home. Now I was a bit early but the worst goes through your mind and I was rather wondering if I would have to leave my bag (and all it's dirty clothes) for next time.
No obvious solutions presented themselves so I waved a branch in front of the motion sensor inside the gate and a very helpful security man arrived. I think he got a bollocking for helping me although he really wasn't any more use than ringing the numbers for me.
Anyway Tony arrived, I managed to get all my stuff into the bag, it was more of a squeeze than last time, I think it's not packed very well, and off to the airport. We'll draw a veil over the airport and the like, it's the usual nasty airport journey except that BA in South Africa really do live up to their sobriquet (if that's the right word), Bloody Awful. The next and longer leg was much better thankfully.
One thing I should say is that South African security failed on two occasions to find the pen knife and scissors in my bag. How slack is that!.....