World Cup continued

One week into the trip and spending so long in cramped confinement with four guys is beginning to take it's toll.  The homo-erotic jokes have now moved beyond the territory in which they could be safely labelled ironic.  I am half expecting to walk into our room and find Tony ironically masturbating Paul.
Left without any females to try and impress, we have reverted to communicating primarily through the medium of farts, dick jokes and the giving of dead legs.  Our meals have consistently been formed of nothing but meat for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  Happily this seems to be the accepted practice in South Africa, where steak houses appear to exist in their millions.  Truly, this is God's own country.

Our hostel is fairly basic but acts as a good base.  It is run by a clearly mentally disturbed local woman who randomly bursts into song while in the middle of conversations and walks around with a permanent manic grin.  We keep the door to our room firmly locked at nights.

My research and preparations for the trip have proved somewhat flawed.  Apparently Africa gets very cold in the winter and I have been unable so far to fashion more appropriate protective clothing from the 7 pairs of shorts I packed alongside the t-shirts, flip flops, single pair of jeans and a light fleece.  The last 5 days of the first week barely got above  6 degrees and the jeans which I have not taken off at all so far are beginning to develop mushrooms.  This wasn't helped by a spectacular fall on the crumbling roads which left me with no skin on my left (thank god) hand and the knee of my jeans caked in blood.  Washing clothes has so far been impossible due to travelling and laziness, but I finally managed to find a clothes shop yesterday.  The choice was limited though and I now look like a 15 year old gangster.  

The games we've been to so far have been consistently awful.  Other than the England games we went to Denmark vs Holland at Soccer City, which is a great stadium but does resemble an aging turd when viewed from a distance.  On paper this should have been a great game.  In reality it was roughly as interesting as a long weekend in Milton Keynes with an eldery relative.  

We also continued following England, this time to Cape Town to see them against Algeria.  For anyone who doesn't know, Algeria have the same footballing pedigree as a washed up whale carcass and the badly needed victory was assured.  But, of course no, once again the pathetic shower of over paid, over praised and over rated fuck bags that make up the England team conspired to barely bother putting on their pink boots and prance their delicate little legs with any discernable energy at all.  It was the most pathetic performance I've seen from the team and that is ranked against a long list of possible contenders.  Having travelled so far and spent so much money, I felt positively raped and booed until my vocal chords bled.            

On a more postive note, we did the token African tourist thing and got up at some outrageous hour of the morning to go on Safari.  The first hour or so was spent with all eyes pinned to either side of the car in tense anticipation of what we would spot.  The first ten times or so we would stop and reverse to investigate what turned out to be a vaguely lion shaped rock, but after a while the animals started to oblige and we saw a decent variety. I had half expected, considering the amount we'd paid, to have the animals brought directly to the car and made to dance or juggle, but it was still a good day out.  The highlight was unquestionably the rotting corpse of hippo, of which we took more photos than anything else.  Our guide was legendary, both for his telescopic vision and habit of pulling over passing vechiles and telling the occupants with an immaculatly straight face that futher up the road a giraffe was eating a lion.