Drought looms, fires burn

I spent just under three months in Durban and returned to England over the last weekend in July. There was virtually no rain in Durban, and while it is the dry season, this was exceptional. We know, thanks to El Nino, there is an impending drought across Southern Africa. This dry spell suggests it may be severe, perhaps even the worst since 1983/84.

When I got back to Norwich, I knew that much of the UK was already experiencing drought. It has not rained for months, and the garden is bone dry. The grass is brown and parched and many plants are looking stressed. There are water restrictions as the levels in the reservoirs are dropping fast. The news from Europe is dominated by out-of-control wildfires in France and Spain. I find it unbelievable that there are those who deny climate change!

I mostly enjoyed my time in Durban. Unfortunately, I developed sore Achilles tendons, which limited the amount of walking I could do. There is, however, a gym close to the flat and I was able to do workouts combining the cross trainer, which interestingly didn’t affect my Achilles tendons, and various exercises with weights and machines.

The gym belongs to Robin Gant and is run by his sister Michelle, who trained me a few times a week. It is in a lovely 100 year old house. Because I have been going to the family’s gyms for so long I can arrange to just pay while I am in town, and it is reasonably priced. It has excellent equipment, all imported from the USA. I don’t mind doing solo workouts because I simply listen to programmes on my phone. It is now very hard to get BBC programmes outside the UK, I believe it is very shortsighted. BBC Sounds is simply not available, although one can find some of the programmes on other podcast websites.

Of course, there was also my social life. I had two regular weekly dinners: on most Tuesday evenings I met with people from the University; and on Wednesday there was a gathering of old friends who live in the area.

Among my dinner companions on a Tuesday were some who ran the Comrades Marathon, which I wrote about in my last post. I have to say I am still in awe of people who do that long a run between Durban and Pietermaritzburg. We used to go to a pub in the lower part of Glenwood. The food was good but very basic. The area is a bit dodgy and we, at my instigation, moved to Poke Box on Esther Roberts Road down the hill. The food was exceptionally good and competitively priced.

The owner, Tom, does not have a liquor licence so you have to take your own alcohol. This is a plus because it brings the cost of an evening right down. There is no website for the establishment but there is a presence on Facebook and Instagram. He and his staff recently moved to new premises in the grounds of the Phansi Museum a few hundred yards up the road. We managed to fit in one visit to this venue just before I returned to Norwich. I strongly recommend it. Tom has a dog, a black labrador called Mo, and he hangs out at the restaurant. He was a source of concern to Tom, and me if I am honest, because at the previous premises he tended to wander off and do doggy things.

Poke Box is where the Wednesday gathering of old friends met. They are: Sam, a brilliant investigative journalist, and his wife Christina who works on a range of local community initiatives; Chris, a former music professor at the University, and his wife Evelyn, who is a talented musician; Jeremy, an academic and long-time squash partner, and Judith who is an excellent editor; Brigitta, and Richard, an advocate who I got to know recently, although, as is the nature of Durban, we knew of each other.

Brigitte moved to Durban with her partner, Jurgen, who worked as a music professor at the University (RIP and very missed) a year or so after us in the 1980s. They lived on the same road as us, in the suburb of Manor Gardens, and the children grew up together in the 1990s and 2000s. It is great to get together with people one has known for a long time and hear news of family and absent friends. The conversations flowed and evenings were great fun.

I left my flat on the last Saturday afternoon of July and drove to King Shaka International airport, just north of Durban. I had to catch an internal flight to Joburg to connect with the KLM plane to Amsterdam. I do not like this journey; I find it quite stressful. I think in the future I will travel from Cape Town. I can travel to the city, spend a few days and take the direct flight to Amsterdam. It would give me an opportunity to see friends and generally be more relaxed when I get on the plane.

At the airport in Durban I bumped into Mark Heywood, who I first met as an activist working on AIDS with the Treatment Action Campaign decades ago. He then moved on to Section 27, a human rights organisation ‘that seeks to achieve substantive equality and social justice in South Africa’.

It has been years since I saw him, but it was good to catch up, albeit at speed while walking through the airport. He is now working on health equity. This issue needs a high level of input because the health sector in South Africa is in a mess, especially with the proposed introduction of a National Health Insurance scheme. This is in my view unthought through, and I doubt it will come to pass!

After disembarking, and as I was walking through to the international departures section, I bumped into Amarnath Singh who was a couple of years above me at Waterford. He worked for many years as a journalist on the South African Financial Mail, a weekly business paper. I have seen him occasionally over the years. I hope he will make it to the proposed Waterford gathering in October of this year.

Getting back to Norwich is always a relief. The process for leaving South Africa is: drive to the airport; fill the tank to the brim and return the hire car; check in and wait for the plane, browse the bookstore; fly to OR Tambo, the carrier Safair is always packed; collect luggage (on one occasion I thought it was checked through and had to scamper back to find it).

In Johannesburg I go to international departures (on this occasion getting lost on the way, to my shame); drop my bag at the KLM desk and confirm my seat (22H), the seat next to me was vacant when I did the online check in and, oh joy, it was still empty; go through security which is a pain; have a shower at the lounge; board at 10:30 and read until the drinks come round; take a pill and sleep for about 4 hours; in Amsterdam go to the lounge and shower again; wait for the Norwich flight; board it and get home at about 12pm (Douglas came to pick me up); luckily it was not quite 24 hours of travelling.

What amused me on this trip was that on the Amsterdam/Norwich leg, the cabin crew gave me a special sandwich because of my frequent flyer status. They came to my seat with this little package just for me! I was the only one to be given this treat, and was shrimp. It is not something I would normally eat but I felt obliged to! I wonder what the rest of the passengers thought, or if they even noticed.

While in Durban I am always careful not to interrogate or pry into goings-on at the University, other than to be aware that the organisation I established, the Health Economics and HIV AIDS Research Division (HEARD), continues to operate and, hopefully, thrive. It is a difficult time for organisations working on HIV. The unilateral un-anticipated withdrawal of funding by the major American donor the President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR) hammered many organisations. This included NGOs and academic establishments in the US and many Western Nations as well as, and most concerningly, organisations at the coal face in the developing world (and Eastern Europe).

It undoubtedly means that we will see an increase in the number of infections and consequent deaths over the coming years. I get it that the US could not go on supporting this forever, but the way it was done, with no grace or kindness, was disgraceful.

Back in Norwich my goal is to get my office tidied up and find homes for some of my books and papers. Most books can go to the local Oxfam shop. But I have a folder of academic articles on Swaziland that I collected over many years. There is also a large copy of the 2007 Demographic and Health Survey. I didn’t want to throw these away so I put a note on Facebook to see if anyone might want them and offered to post them to any UK address.

To my delight and surprise, I got a message back within hours from the daughter of academics I worked with for many years in Swaziland a long time ago. She would like them and asked me to post them to her sister. The address she gave me is in Norwich and is just a short distance away (less than a kilometre down the road to town). She is also a Waterford graduate whom I met a few times. That was easy and serendipitous. I have a good feeling about not putting material into landfill or recycling, but finding a home where it might be used. At least the long term decision on what to do with it has been delegated.

Meeting Movers and Shakers in London

I am putting my fingers to the keyboard a little ahead of schedule this month. I wanted to get this blog out before I travelled to South Africa at the end of April. Those plans changed, as I describe later. I’ve had an interesting couple of weeks and am writing while it is still fresh in my mind.

I am a member of the UK board of the organisation ForAfrika. Just over a week ago I was invited to a small gathering of board members in London. The CEO, Isak Pretorious, hosted a dinner in the Conduit Club. It is quite unique, its members are concerned with making a difference, and I think they do.

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Spring turns to summer

Every Sunday morning, when I am in Durban, I drive to the beachfront. It only takes 14 minutes, provided most of the lights are green. I park next to the iconic Joe Cool’s bar and nightclub, and try to walk for 10 kilometres. The route is to the Point, which is at the harbour mouth. It is only an 8 km round trip, even if I walk down all the piers. I add on a bit by walking past the car towards the Suncoast Casino. This casino, a monument to Mammon and lost hopes, is a blot on the landscape. It was designed as a bit of Las Vegas on the beach. The less said about that the better.

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As we move to the end of the year

Christmas is only a few weeks away and it is time for an update to my blog. I don’t want this to become purely a record of health issues, but I have had a rotten time recently.

The reality is that, as we age, ill-health becomes more likely and recovery is slower. I am, again, suffering from an abscess in the fleshy part of my backside. This is technically a peri-anal abscess, not, as I said to my shame at one consultation, a peri-natal abscess. It is a second instalment of the same malady that put me in hospital in Durban a year ago.1

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Cape Town and the Rugby World Cup

My October seemed dominated by health issues. I don’t want to dwell on them but will give a short update, as it has taken time for me to process the events. The first day in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) was bleak. The man in the bed opposite was hooked up to machines that beeped steadily, and constantly. Additionally, there was a nurse aide sitting watching over him. Over the course of the day the beeps slowed down and eventually stopped. There were no interventions, other than to finally draw the curtains round the bed. Not something anyone would want to witness. I was, I think, the least in need of intensive care and the most conscious of my surroundings. The main reason for my inpatient status was so antibiotics could be administered intravenously.

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Touring and Health

It has been some weeks since I last posted. They have been busy weeks though, and not all entirely in a good way. Let me begin with the good stuff, and, unusually, I was able to upload photographs this month, they are at the end!

After the success of the Cape Town to Durban drive last year, my friend Tim and I planned a road trip for the end of August. I flew down to Cape Town and Tim drove in from Riviersondereind. We stayed in Derek and Lynn’s house for a couple of nights, and then set off. The reason for the slight delay was that I had a rotten cold. It turned out there was a lot more going on with my health than that though.

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Health, Hearts, and Hope

At the end of July, I drove up to Eswatini to participate in the events marking the 60th anniversary of my school, Waterford Kamhlaba United World College. It is at least a seven-hour drive, so I stopped overnight at the Ghost Mountain Inn in the little Zululand town of Mkuze. The town lies at the foot of the Lebombo mountains – they are part of a chain of low volcanic hills that run for 800 km in the east of southern Africa. There was conflict between two Zulu factions and a battle on one of the hills. Hundreds died, according to Rider Haggard (famous for King Solomon’s Mines, partly set in Swaziland), and the souls manifest as flickering lights, hence the name.

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Hearts, Plays and Passports

The Yiddish proverb, “Der mentsh trakht un got lakht” translates as “Man plans, and God laughs”. A couple of months ago I became aware of an intermittent pain in my left shoulder. On a few occasions it was severe enough to wake me. I decided it was indigestion, and chewed a few Rennie’s tablets. This seemed to do the trick for a while but, towards the end of the month, it was happening more regularly, and the pain extended into my arm and up to my jaw. I probably would have ignored it but I was advised to have it checked out.

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Teeth and travel

At the beginning of October I developed a toothache. It persisted and got steadily worse. The dentist saw me immediately, for which I am very grateful, x-rayed the teeth, identified two abscesses, and gave me two antibiotics. One was anti-alcohol which meant I had a dry two weeks. The following week I was scheduled to fly to Johannesburg and drive to Eswatini (Swaziland). On the Monday there was a lump in my gum, and it was still very painful. I had an emergency appointment, the abscess was lanced, and the relief was immediate!

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Surgery and Sunshine

I was offline for a few days in March, an interesting experience especially during the time of crisis in the UK. It was my birthday on the 18th and I celebrated by returning to South Africa on the 16th for a series of elective medical procedures. I took the 06h15 KLM flight from Norwich to Amsterdam where I connected on the 10h15 flight to Johannesburg. The journey takes nearly 11 hours. My case was one of the first to be unloaded and appear on the carousel, these little things matter.

There are no connecting flights to Durban that late. My standard operating procedure is to stay in a hotel at the airport and connect the next day. Normally the travel agent’s opening proposal for the connection is a plane at an absurdly early hour, 07h00 for example. On this trip I was sensible and got a flight a little after 13h00. It allowed me ample time to sort myself out, and have a leisurely breakfast.

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