Category Archives: Admin

Discovering DIY

Admin, ,

I’ve never been the DIY type. Well, perhaps occassionally decor bits – I can remember sewing a pair of curtains for a digs in Grahamstown years and years ago. I loved that digs – a delightful little cottage set in a garden and my first house. I’ve lived in many, many places since then. For the most part, my homes have been marked by impermenance. There was a little flat in Mobray, Cape Town where we decorated the lounge in bright colours and I bought new linen and curtains, but for the most part I’ve lived as though I might move on at any time. That song, old now I guess, “Life for Rent” has always struck a chord.

For some reason, the move to Joburg has been different. I suppose it is partly because I know I need to be here for at least two years to do the qualifications I’m hoping to do. Perhaps it’s that I’m getting older and feel the need to have a place that is both comfortable and beautiful. Whatever the cause, this move has seen me rent an unfurnished apartment, with which comes the excitement (or trauma, depending on when you ask) of buying furniture).

First off, furniture is expensive. Mutter, mutter, grumble, grumble. Second, furniture turns out to be quite a lot harder to find than I had anticipated. Okay, to be fair, this may be partly a consequence of living in a part of Johannesburg where most people probably have the time, money and/or interior designers to go in search of furniture outside of the areas where they live. The result is a remarkably limited number of furniture/home stores in the Rosebank/Sandton area (and an even more limited number with anything vaguely affordable).

Constrained by lack of choice, I braved the heretofore unknown world of flat-pack, DIY furniture. The first things I bought were a desk, a chair and a TV stand. It took me a week to make the choice and to get up the courage to place the order. I ordered them to be delivered (I live on the third floor, so paid manpower makes sense). They arrived, eventually (have I mentioned that I have a strong and growing dislike of delivery people), with the minor inconvenience that the first delivery included only two of the items, so that I had to leave work early for a second day running to receive the final piece.

For two days (well, evenings), I sat in my flat and looked at these boxes. It couldn’t be that difficult could it? Other people did it all the time. Gulp. Some of the things needed screw-drivers. I delayed another day so that I could buy a set of screw-drivers on the way home from work – what? I’m not a handy-man type.  I began with the chair. It’s an office chair with wheels and a seat-height-adjusting-thingy. I was expecting instructions. I took out each piece. There didn’t seem to be any instructions. With a deep breathe, I started putting things together. As I placed the final piece, I came across the instructions. I’m not sure they would have helped. I moved on to the desk and then the TV stand (this time with instructions). Apart from the fact that I ended with one more screw than I needed (which I gather from books and TV shows is normal?), I seemed to have succeeded. I had, with my own hands, put together a desk, a TV stand and a chair. I couldn’t believe it.

TV stand  Desk and chair - now with bookcase

It felt pretty good. I was pleased. But I wasn’t at all convinced this would be a repeat exercise. Oh, in between I’d also ordered a fridge, which came all put together already (although I somehow ended up with an extra screw for that too). So when it came to the great couch decision, I wanted to go for a ready-made, all-put-together couch.

Apparently this ideal was not meant to be. Couch ordered and paid for (multiple trips to Sandton later), arrived at my flat several hours after it was expected (delivery people – !). The two guys lugged it up the stairs, with difficultly, and along the passage to my front door. They took off the cushions and brought them inside. And then they tried to bring in the couch. And tried again. And again. It didn’t fit. The couch I had so carefully picked out – the comfortable, pretty couch I was so looking forward to collapsing down onto after a long day – did not fit through my door. I phoned the shop and spoke to the man who sold me the couch. “Don’t you have another door?” he said. My flat is small. Really small. And on the third floor. There are no other doors.

I sent the first couch back to the shop. What do you do when you’re now convinced that ordinary sized couches are likely to stick in your doorway and you do not want to have to go through the rigmarole of looking and ordering and waiting and being disappointed again? You buy a flat-pack sleeper couch instead.

The second set of orders (couch, barstool, bookcase) had similar delivery issues (delays in delivery annoy me so very much). Again, I spent a day looking at these boxes before I started the assembly process. I was a little more confident this time, although the couch was pretty intimidating until it was done.

Couch

It’s an odd feeling to think that the furniture you’re sitting on and using was put together by yourself. I’m still a little nervous that the couch might collapse when I sit down, but so far, so good. And on the positive side, I have a new set of skills I never anticipated having. Never again will I be stymied by the lack of suitable furniture selling shops; I’ll just do it myself.

Have visa, will panic

Admin, Adventures, Travelling in Europe, ,

I like travel well-planned, long-anticipated travel. I’m not particularly good at spontaneous. More than that, I find the build up, the waiting, the anticipation a wonderful part of the process. I’m already starting to plan a trip with a friend in Spring of 2015. So the last couple of weeks have been a bit of a whirlwind. No, tornado would be a better term.

A last-minute decision (both internally and from the people funding the trip) about attendance at a conference is great. At least, it’s great in theory. It’s a little more stressful if the conference is in Europe and you’re travelling on a South African passport. The colleague I’ll be travelling with has a US passport, as well as an EU one. I’m jealous. The thing that probably frustrates me most about South Africa is that we need visas for so many places. Perhaps not a frustration with South Africa as much as a frustration with the whole system. Until this probably can be solved, it’s visas required, so I headed off to the Netherlands consulate in Durban. According to reliable information, from friends who have tried it and write ups on travel blogs to the consulate website itself, you should apply for a Schengen visa at least three weeks before you travel. I had ten days. Cutting it fine. And so very far from the long, gentle build up to travel that I prefer.

The absolute minimum time the visa would take to come through was five working days. There was nothing I could do about it in the meantime. Luckily for me, I had little time to worry about it. Things at work have been crazy. At the beginning of this year, I had a seriously, almost overwhelmingly, stressful January. At the end of January, I breathed a sigh of relief and looked forward to things calming down. They didn’t. And since August, they’ve just gotten more and more chaotic. This week they ramped up to a whole new level of ridiculous.

And then, on Wednesday, I went back to the consulate, quite ready to be told that my application had been too late. In fact, hoping in a way that it wouldn’t come through so that I could take a few days to breathe. Instead, I was given a visa for longer than I’d originally expected. This is great. I know: it’s a great opportunity. But just thinking about it made me tired. The urge to travel overcame the exhaustion and I changed my ticket and arranged leave and rearranged my life to have at least a few extra days to explore Europe. Europe. This is my first trip to Europe. The shadow over so much of the history of my country, of Africa, of my heritage. I’m still not sure how I feel about Europe. I hope I can make the time to figure it out. I feel like it is important.

In the last couple of days, stress levels remained at peak, so that by Friday afternoon I still hadn’t done anything about planning the non-business part of my trip. In between stressing about work, I managed to find a few moments to panic about the fact that I needed to do something about bookings or plans or something. But there just wasn’t time. This is why I like long periods of planning and thinking and learning something about the place I’m going. Not this time. Instead, panic. Have visa, will panic.

I’m less stressed about it now. I’m heading up to Johannesburg today (Saturday). That means I have a whole Saturday night to finish all the work and finally make plans. Or perhaps it’s just because the packing – my least favourite part of travel – is done. I’m even beginning to get a little bit excited. Just a trip to Johannesburg, a weekend, high-stress public events and a particularly long Monday to go before I get to travel again.

A month and four days

Admin, Travelling in Africa, , ,

In a little over a month, I fly to Uganda for three weeks of adventuring in central Africa. I start the malaria meds today (I also have another trip in between).

I’ve reached that stage of cautious excitement – almost really believing that it might actually happen but trying not to get too attached to the idea in case it falls through and we’re all disappointed.

I want to go now. For a while there, I was really uncertain. I’m still nervous of what we’ll find there but I have no doubt – assuming the last few bits fall into place – that it will be the trip of a lifetime and one we will never forget. In a good way, I hope.

So each day is a day of hope and nerves, waiting for things to come together. This week is visa week. Perhaps the most nerve-wrecking for a while. Particularly because I fly to Zambia next Sunday, so things really need to work out on time.

I’m nervous and excited and hopeful and scared, but I’m not frustrated. This bit – when it looks like it might just work out and you know if it does it’ll blow your mind – this is anticipation of wonder.