the a-z of making

...friends in a Lydenberg Pub. And sundry.

A is for authority. Walk in like you own the casino. Wear aviators at night, because that's what casino owners do.

B is for Britain. The Lydenberg types view English South Africans as the enemy, but if you're from the UK, one has to beat them off with a stick.
They love you.
I'm going to try this tactic in Joburg.

'Why are you wearing your sonbrille inside?'
Because in Bri'in, it's not as bright as it is in Souffrica.
'But it's night time.'
Yeah, still bright mate, still bright.

British Tourist is key.

C is for Cane. Doc asked for a double cane at the bar. To which he got, 'We don't serve that fancy stuff here.'

D is for Dance Moves. After getting a 'langarm' lesson from a very friendly guy who worked at the local platinum mine, ('You Souffricans are so friendly!'), I bust a move.

Soon a whole circle of in-towners were doing the electric slide to a live version of Bob Sinclar's Love Generation that was being played by the band. I found myself in the middle of a circle, wearing sunnies and doing pelvic thrusts. Couldn't get away with that in THIS town without loser's complex the next day, but in Lydenberg? Was a fucking hero.

E is for Eland. There was a stuffed one on the wall.

F is for Fuck. My new guy friends taught me some words in Afrikaans, because I was from London, see. Fok is fuck and bok is buck and 'lekker' means nice or somefing.

G is for Game Boerewors. We ate home-made wildebeest in the form of a sausage.

H is for Happy Hut. That's where we all partied on Saturday night, in the middle of the Lydenberg foothills, with Big T's car boot open, pumping the likes of Bump 5. Which was to be heard throughout the valley.

I is for Ice Cream. One character in the bar ran up to tell me he lived in Britain once. He worked as the local ice cream man in Blackpool and didn't understand why the Brits wouldn't renew his visa. ('Tha' is very strange, I don't understand why they wouldn't give you one, I mean honestly.')

J is for Jousting Sticks.

K is for The Komfee 1 000. The bed I shared with Moogs and Doc. Sandwiched. 'Komfee' is a loaded, somewhat sarcastic, term.

L is for Letterman, David.

M is for Muthafuckin' Melody. Everyone insists they hate Bump 5 until they have a few Jaegers. Then it changes all but fucking quickly, doesn't it.

N is for Not Sober. We did a lot of communal wanking, dancing, falling about and playing the fool this weekend.

O is for Oh My God. That's what the trout tasted like. It was incredible.

P is for Penis. Friends getting naked and running around, bits a-swinging.

Q is for Queen. She's still a hit in Hello! magazine.

R is for Raving. Sundowners on a cliff edge, watching the stars, dancing and casting. One can use the cast manoeuvre as an effective and impressive dance move.

S is for Steamy. Fishing outfits are very that.

T is for Tour. My new friends at the pub said they'd organise a tour around the Implats mine for me because I am a tourist. Bless. But I had to 'catch a flight the next day.'

U is for U-ie. Don't try to reverse up a rocky embankment thinking the diff lock will sort it all out. Save yourself the hassle and do a u-ie at the bottom of the hill.

V is for Valley. No cellphone signal for a whole weekend because of a valley in the middle of nowhere. Bliss.

W is for What The Fuck. And whore d'oeuvres. The photos from our Happy Hut party are insane.

X is for Xenophobia. They weren't xenophobic about me being from London. However, had I said I was from Johannesburg, they might've been a little less friendly.

Y is for Yates, Paula. She had kids with Bob Geldof, and one was named Peaches.

Z is for Zebra. There was also a stuffed Zebra head on the pub wall. (What's that animal then?)