It is dusk as we pull in through the gates of the Ghost Mountain Inn in Mkhuze. It nestles at the foot of the Lebombo Hills in KZN and is one of our more luxury getaways – we are using it as a stop over on the way back from the conference. My mind turns to our first visit here a couple of months ago.
We were in the bar in the evening and got chatting to a pleasant Scandinavian couple. He was Swedish, she was Norwegian I think – both incredibly snappy dressers. Since we had a Swede and Norwegian in our gang conversation flowed fast and multi-lingually.
“What are you doing here?” I asked them.
“I am setting up a football academy,” he replied.
“Here?!” Mkhuze is not exactly the centre of the world. It is a small town in the middle of a large rural area with few services and little employment. He was, I imagined, some kind of social-conscience development type, using his football skills as a means of community development and empowerment.
“Yes, but we live in Durban.”.
The girlfriend broke in, “I am house-hunting in Umhlanga.” Umhlanga is one of the most upmarket beach areas in the Durban suburbs. Housing there is not cheap. My vision of a social-conscience development type did not fit well with buying a house on the Umhlanga beach front.
“So where are you living now?”
“Here,” she replied.
“In Mkhuze?”
“No, in the hotel.” I was vaguely aware that some of these European development organisations can have rather excessively generoues expense allowances but there are cheaper ways to live than R540 per night per person.
“Wow! Nice!”
“Well its OK, but of course no hotels will let me have my dog and it is really a problem when you are living in hotels for a while.”
“You got the dog here?”
“No, we brought her from home. She had to spend 6 weeks in quarantine poor thing. It was so expensive but she is out now.”
“So do you have the dog in this hotel?”
She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Yes. But when we check in a have to dress her up as a baby in a blanket and carry her in my arms as if she was a asleep!” She sat back in her chair with a triumphant look on her face. I could feel a slightly hysterical smile creeping irrepressibly over my face and tried to think of something sad.
After a couple more drinks they made their excuses and left. Olstein sat back with a conspiratorial look on his face. “You know who that was don’t you?”
“Who?” I asked.
“Swedish. Into football. Setting up a football academy.”
I struggled and failed to make the connection.
He paused dramatically - I could almost hear the drum roll. “It was..."
"Yes?"
"Sven Goran Erikson’s son!”
“What?! How do you know?!”
“I met one of his work colleagues earlier in the afternoon and he told me.”
“Are they are hear doing social development projects?”
Olstein laughed heartily. “It is not a social project. They are talent spotting and then exporting trained players overseas for loads of money.”
It suddenly all makes a bit more sense.
Then, with the outside company gone we regressed to childhood and spent the remainder of the evening challenging each other to snog the various wooden animal statues that decorate the bar without the foyer guard seeing.
We were in the bar in the evening and got chatting to a pleasant Scandinavian couple. He was Swedish, she was Norwegian I think – both incredibly snappy dressers. Since we had a Swede and Norwegian in our gang conversation flowed fast and multi-lingually.“What are you doing here?” I asked them.
“I am setting up a football academy,” he replied.
“Here?!” Mkhuze is not exactly the centre of the world. It is a small town in the middle of a large rural area with few services and little employment. He was, I imagined, some kind of social-conscience development type, using his football skills as a means of community development and empowerment.
“Yes, but we live in Durban.”.
The girlfriend broke in, “I am house-hunting in Umhlanga.” Umhlanga is one of the most upmarket beach areas in the Durban suburbs. Housing there is not cheap. My vision of a social-conscience development type did not fit well with buying a house on the Umhlanga beach front.
“So where are you living now?”
“Here,” she replied.
“In Mkhuze?”
“No, in the hotel.” I was vaguely aware that some of these European development organisations can have rather excessively generoues expense allowances but there are cheaper ways to live than R540 per night per person.“Wow! Nice!”
“Well its OK, but of course no hotels will let me have my dog and it is really a problem when you are living in hotels for a while.”
“You got the dog here?”
“No, we brought her from home. She had to spend 6 weeks in quarantine poor thing. It was so expensive but she is out now.”
“So do you have the dog in this hotel?”
She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Yes. But when we check in a have to dress her up as a baby in a blanket and carry her in my arms as if she was a asleep!” She sat back in her chair with a triumphant look on her face. I could feel a slightly hysterical smile creeping irrepressibly over my face and tried to think of something sad.
After a couple more drinks they made their excuses and left. Olstein sat back with a conspiratorial look on his face. “You know who that was don’t you?”
“Who?” I asked.
“Swedish. Into football. Setting up a football academy.”
I struggled and failed to make the connection.
He paused dramatically - I could almost hear the drum roll. “It was..."
"Yes?"
"Sven Goran Erikson’s son!”
“What?! How do you know?!”
“I met one of his work colleagues earlier in the afternoon and he told me.”
“Are they are hear doing social development projects?”
Olstein laughed heartily. “It is not a social project. They are talent spotting and then exporting trained players overseas for loads of money.”
It suddenly all makes a bit more sense.
Then, with the outside company gone we regressed to childhood and spent the remainder of the evening challenging each other to snog the various wooden animal statues that decorate the bar without the foyer guard seeing.
Comments
I'm a UK doctor.
I've been following your blod with interest over the last few weeks - RHI have put a link to it.
I'm planning on spending 12 months with RHI - most likely in KwaZulu Natal.
I'd be very keen to exchange a couple of emails with you if you're willing.
Ta
Mark
mark_dunham2000@hotmail.com