The 4 empty 20ltr containers lent to me by Johann were left at BLV for collection next time the Bekkers came to town.

They were the last thing I saw as Nyati rolled down the road, away from the security & comraderie of the folk, & bushman, at BLV, towards my latest home from home… Spitskop Game farm campsite.

The Springboks were playing Scotland in the world cup & I needed to get my DSTV working.
Within 5 minutes the little tuner started clicking then squealing… PERFECT ????
Beers're cold…
Braai's ready…
Oh shit… It's only Friday ! !   😮

Never mind, there was an overlander FULL of Italian or Spanish or similar tourists, that had arrived at sunset.
Watching them set up their dozen or so tents, whilst in foul humour, was entertainment enough. 

A friendly family from Montegue came over fascinated by Nyati, &
presented me with a bottle of their locally made Red Muscadel… OhmyGod… Delicious.
Such unexpected generosity.

Writing about it's given me a craving for a glass… "Tiny glasses", she'd said, kindly eyes twinkling…

Have to put this down while I pour one.

Aaaah yes… THAT'S better.

Well, back to that Friday night.
Apart from the usual spectacular desert night sky full of stars, some beautiful, skittish springbok nibbling around the braai, the gift from Montegue & the crasse antics of the Eurotrash… Nothing happened.

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