I didn’t think I’d make it. I was so damn tired yesterday afternoon (see also: 2 day flight), that I crashed out at 5pm. But the fireworks woke me up at 11:20. I bought a can of Black Label from the front desk and went to sit on a stone terrace overlooking the city. 

There were hoots and hollers and music coming from around the neighborhood–all private homes surrounded by spiked gates and razor wire. Even in this nice neighborhood. I felt like I was about the have some sort of momentous revelation about my life–but I was still groggy from my death-like sleep.

Around the house (I could see about 240 degrees) there were small fireworks explosions in several directions. At about 5 minutes til, the family that owns this hostel came up to the terrace with a bottle of champagne, I had two glasses. We toasted the New Year at the approximate time, judging by the yelling and fireworks. I forgot most of my pre-revelation. 

Then I went back to bed. 

Maybe it doesn’t sound that exciting–but it was lovely. This morning, I woke up at 5:30 because the birds were louder than the fireworks. Hooting, buzzing, scratchy calls, shrieks, and lilted whistles, trills, and warbles. So fantastic. I ID’d a few–bright yellow, orange, iridescent blacks. I hope I get to see a widowbird. The streets are thick with pest-myna birds. 

I’ve written several postcards and will mail them before heading out into the country this afternoon. 

I can’t believe that I forgot my binoculars. (HOW DID I FORGET BINOCULARS?) I also took a picture of my breakfast this morning, but the network out here is so bad that I blew several Kbs trying (and failing) to post it to Instagram. I may try again from the airport this afternoon, where I’ll be meeting the shuttle to Hartbeetspoort. By tonight, I will be in the country… hanging out with Cape vultures. 

Happy New Year, everyone. I hope to write again soon.