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Elands River, Eastern Cape, South Africa -- February 2011Quick one.
Last week Nush went on camp with her school and after a particularly hairy misadventure in their cabin with, count 'em, FIVE tarantulas with an uncomfortable intelligence quotient, the girls decided to go and sit by the outside fire a few yards away from the cabins, even if they had to do so all night.
The camp is situated in the Elands River Valley, known for its outdoors activities and lodges. The pathway from the cabins to the fire, was a winding path downward under the canopy of some low branch trees. Nush decided to go ahead because her roomy decided to hang around the other girls' cabins a bit longer.
Through the dark she walked, still reeling from the arachnid shock (she is Arachnophobic in its highest degree) and enjoying the dark solitude of the quiet late night when she said she suddenly felt very ill, nauseous and looked about her, as she felt really uncomfortable in a mini-paranoia as she progressed down the path.
When she reached the middle of the stretch of path, almost out of the canopy and into the open area of firelight, she claimed that something came from her right and knocked her off her feet!!
She saw nobody coming at her. Just felt a force, like a body, shoving her violently off the path!!
Ever been in a moshpit?
Similar.
The experience startled her so that she told me she could not recall how she got to the fire so quickly. When she told the resident counselor by the fireside, he just laughed and nodded.
Apparently it happens occasionally and it has become a source of great entertainment to those who know about it when they listen to spooked campers' stories about the invisible mosher in the outdoors who waits for anyone who elects to flee from the devil's eight leggeds in the cabin.
Port Elizabeth Opera House, South AfricaYes, the title line is a link to the website ;-)This is one of the few remaining British buildings that had NOT been destroyed or renamed inappropriately by the "new" government and I am very thankful it is still standing, because it is the most beautiful little theatre, the oldest in Africa in fact, having being built in 1892.Unfortunately I was unable to obtain any pictures of its fancy old world interior, but I have been inside for a production I went to see (in 2005, when I lived at a hotel a few yards away) and I must say, aside from the distinct ghost vibe in it, that of bygone patrons still having wine and standing amongst modern day guests, the interior does make one forget what era one lives in.The curtains and carpeting lies regally in dark maroon and the wall decorations are laid in gold, giving it a very royal feel. The furniture and design of the balustrades are truly old English, with heavy Rosewood furniture and velvet drapes, and engraved posts along the majestic corridors and stairs that go up to the gallery. Even the odor in the Opera House is delectably musty, reminiscent of a well-kept museum, because, well, that is what it is.The top end of the road with the modern Opera House on the left. This pic must've been taken VERY EARLY, as this road in the city center is usually overcrowded with Nigerian drug dealers, vagrants and hookers that makes it one of the most dangerous places in the city.Today's story comes from Nush's one school friend, Matt.He told us that he had gone to see a show there and was one of the first people to be seated up in the gallery. Matt had two friends with him who sat three seats in from the side isle and he seated himself two seats in, as not to be bothered by passing people selecting their seats.He sat for a while chatting to his friends when he noticed a gentleman come down from the back of the entrance and seat himself right next to Matt in the first seat.The old man was approximately 70 years old, well dressed and had a newspaper which he proceeded to read after he sat down. Matt greeted the old boy and the man returned his gesture with a polite nod.And so they waited for the rest of the audience to fill the seats below on the ground floor when Matt passed a glance to the gentleman's newspaper, in which the old man seemed quite interested.To Matt's surprise, the newspaper was dated 6 July 1956!!!His body shivered at the oddity of it and he quickly turned to tell his friends of this in a most secretive whisper, of course.....but as he turned back and his friends peeked round, the old man had disappeared without a trace, never having walked out of the gallery area!As they were seated toward the very front, they would have seen the man leave, because it took a bit of a walk to the exit and Matt only had his head turned for a second.I guess the old man still enjoyed a good show now and then and like many other specters one can clearly feel in the Port Elizabeth Opera House, he fancied a bit of entertainment before joining his gravemates in a toast to bygone days.