I can’t believe I’m writing this.

Where we stay at the present time in Cape Town is within a complex of appartments built along 3 sides of a rectangle, just 2 stories in height and enclosing a pleasant communal garden. A number of the flats seem empty most of the time and we assume that people have them as holiday appartments, visiting just occasionally during the year. So we don’t see a lot of neighbours, nor have we had much communication with many of them with just a couple of exceptions. But a few days ago we received a community letter which went out to all the appartment residents with some reasonably helpful peices of news and information. Included was a warning about rats which we are told are somewhat endemic in the area and have a number of runs from the school opposite straight into our property. This, it is suggested, is because children drop food in the school playground, which the rats enjoy and then they come into the grounds around the flats looking for more food. Well, we’d never seen a rat in all the months we’ve been here, but on reading this news sheet I felt it was inevitable that we would. Sure enough on Monday we were sitting on our patio enjoying a cup of coffee only to be joined by a rat - a fairly small one I grant you - but nevertheless a rat. As I (bravely) stood guard to stop it entering our flat, Sue ran off to find the caretaker who returned barehanded, with no weapon of any kind, gave the rat a karate chop on the back of its neck and, holding it by the tail, removed it far from us. I felt this was educational but not an example I particularly want to follow!

On the whole we aren’t really aware of any more bugs or insects than we tend to have  around in the UK. But now being high summer we do have some nights when we battle with a mosquito. There is that nasty high pitched whine followed by an even nastier silence when you wonder where the thing has landed and how much blood is it withdrawing? In fact I have squashed a couple of mosquitos here that have left sizeable blobs of blood on the wall - my blood I’m assuming. My worst encounter with mosquitos was on a ministry trip to Sri Lanka some years ago when as the sun went down I sat in the home of a couple that I was visiting, with the windows wide open, to be attacked by really vicious insects who, and I am not exaggerating, drilled their way through my trousers. I returned to Dubai the following day covered with bites and feeling quite ill. The worst of it was that someone then told me that they not only had malaria in Sri Lanka but also that the mosquitos there could  carry dengue fever. Anyway, I have lived to tell the tale.

One of the Elders here, Dave Adams, is about to begin a 3 month sabbatical which will take him and his wife Herma to South America. Dave reckons he is a slow adapter to new technology. However we have been trying to persuade him to write a blog while he is away so that we can follow their every move. Steve van Rhyn even prayed that Dave would have a blogworthy visit to South America, so we’re only trying to apply slight pressure!

It reminded me of my tirade 2 or 3 years back when I started to hear of all these people who were regularly posting blogs. ‘What an egocentric thing to do,’ I cried, the idea that other people would want to read about the small inconsequential details of your life. So, I stand condemned out of my own mouth, as I now write this weekly blog, but we really would like to know the details of Dave and Herma doing carnival in Rio and whether or not they get bitten by insects or even have to tackle an Anaconda while having coffee on the patio.

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