Three is a magic number

Tradition has it that whenever a group of people has tasted the lovely fruits of wealth, security and prestige it begins to find it more comfortable to believe in the obvious lie and to accept it as normal that it alone is entitled to privilege.

I start this post, at the end of my third month, feeling like I've been here only three weeks. Only by writing my thoughts down and reading back my errands do I realise quite how much I have done since I arrived. One task that finally got completed; a good, nearby biltong shop. I present to you my first ever biltong purchase in South Africa, packets of which may or may not have been my dinner last night. Orders available on request.

Boring stuff first. It's been incredibly windy here, which makes me wonder why Port Elizabeth is called the windy city and not here*. A whole palaver trying to get beds for the spare room, and a new mattress. Turns out mattress sizes differ between countries. I ended up getting a much better deal price wise, but since I still haven't been paid, I made the payments on my UK credit card; between purchasing and getting refunded, Trump was elected, and since the Rand is an emerging currency and is more bound to the movement of the Dollar, what should have been a 3500 Rand saving (about £120) only turned out to be £80. Which wasn't really worth the effort. Huge effort also in order to get a stock pot, surprisingly easy to get a custom-made wine rack. There was also a coolant leak in the car, possibly related to my previous mishaps. Temporarily fixed it myself and could have done a better job but it's so cheap here it was easier and quicker to take it to a garage to be done properly. Finally, fixed various light fittings in my apartment when I moved in, but not without the odd item getting broken, as is the George way. I also finally checked off the final boat class rowing, and got out in a quad.

Pictured: not a quad

My flat is incredible. It took exactly 11 weeks from stepping off the plane to having everything sorted, unpacked, and arranged in a logical way for myself, but now I can finally relax and only worry about work. The location is about 15 minutes walk from Long/Kloof street, a 6 minute run from Table mountain (at least at my current pace), and the view is amazing.

There is a car show room opposite, so a couple of times I wake up at the same time as cars get delivered or dispatched. It's not done particularly quietly, and the windows have been wide open due to the stunning weather at the moment, however it's hardly a crying shame when these are the cars that occupy said show room:

Activities wise there was the flat-warming, with pictures before and after which I will not include here in order to pretend it was a civilised affair where the odd glass of wine was drunk and my place was left in a tidy and ordered manner, where I was safely tucked into bed at midnight before another trip to Mzoli's. This, I suppose, is a perfectly valid statement in the post-truth society we now live in. What certainly did happen is that in preparing food for the party, I decided I would make a cake, without realising I don't have an oven. Half-way through, I made a panicked call to my mother, who somehow fixed everything such that I made the best cake I've ever made, in the microwave:

The colour run was a fun afternoon out in Green Point, and was certainly colourful. It wasn't a run, and it was a bit frustrating stood around waiting to do something, but the company was fun and made for an enjoyable afternoon.

Beyond that, I spent the afternoon on the beach for the first time in the southern hemisphere, and now look slightly less of a ghostly figure. This was followed by 'sundowners', which apparently is a word that everyone here knows except for me; it's a drink whilst watching the sun go down. South Africans are pretty literal with their words and phrases in the most part, with the notable exception of 'floofie' which apparently is a zip line.

It would've been nice to have a zip line accessible when I climbed Silvermine mountain. Originally setting out to climb Chapman's peak but not finding a place to park, we arrived at another, with my temporary flatmate. I bounded up the first half of the trail, and failed to notice the path meandered over a boulder, carrying on around the peak. My friend mentioned as much, and so we decided to scramble up from where we were to where it looked flatter. We couldn't see the path, so we did the same again. And again. At the point when I realised that maybe we should just go back down and around, I actually couldn't get down, and so the only way was up, which was principally rock climbing at that point. If you've ever seen a view of the Cape peninsula from the Atlantic, and marvelled at the sheer vertical rock faces on the upper parts of the cliffs, rest assured they are not quite vertical but they are very scary if you look down from atop them. The view from the top was incredible though.

Other excellent views include a sunset from my apartment, and the supermoon over the city when I accidentally ran halfway up Devil's peak. The size wasn't meant to increase much, but the increase in brightness ('r-squared' law!) is apparent.

A couple of excellent restaurants, as always, including a notable visit to an Ethiopian place, confirming my feelings about excellent food. Having explained my Ethiopian experience several times, I've realised actually it wasn't so bad, but the airline is atrocious. Certainly in no rush to revisit.

In addition of course is the latest batch of wine-tasting and cocktail trips, as well as revisiting a karaoke bar (unfortunately, the video of my version of BYOB got lost to the sands of time). This all got a bit much and so this week has been strictly no alcohol, in order to ensure that one, I actually have some productivity at work, and two, so that I am prepared for the gluttony of Christmas...

Finally, finishing on work. There was a works do earlier in the week for the end of year bash; you haven't lived until you turn up somewhere at 11 AM with everyone doing karaoke. I did my first ever batch of lectures, which was a daunting task that apparently (according to feedback forms) was quite successful, which was nice since it took up nearly all of my time. I think I have a big case of 'imposter syndrome', mostly due to the lack of first-author papers, but with the current work and proposals that I'm writing this should hopefully change soon. Better to feel like I've not done enough rather than too much at least. At the start of the month there was a Tastes in Nuclear Physics course with lecturers from all over, primarily for students, which actually got me thinking about a few ideas in the long run. Got the opportunity to have a few chats with a few interesting people too, including my external PhD examiner again, and a chap named John Wood, who has literally written the book on (some of) nuclear physics, which was fascinating.

The look of a man fully confident about what he has to say

I'll leave this short manuscript with what is probably one of my favourite photos that I've ever taken; the sun setting with a view of Chapman's peak, taken from Silvermine.

Oh, and some weird bird with googly eyes:

Freaky.

Song of the month: Raging, by Kygo, for no reason other than it's quite pleasing.

*I looked, and basically it's because Cape Town already had a nickname ('Mother City')