Well to my list of novel experiences I can now add ‘breaking in’, and it wasn’t into my own home either! Spiked metal fences surround a large number of houses and properties in Clarens, and a percentage of these have electronic gates. This can be problematic during a thunderstorm as it can blow the fuse to the gate and trap you inside your own home until an electrician can come to fix it. It is also problematic if you happen to be house-sitting/pet-sitting for a friend and the fob they gave you to the gate has no battery in…and they aren’t your regular AA batteries which can be hard enough to get hold of here haha. Thankfully house keys are not yet electronic (as far as I know), so I only had to get over this 6ft tall fence with jagged metal bits on top without tearing a limb off. After unsuccessfully trying to climb a fir tree parallel to the gate (curse my short height and someone’s foresight in cutting off the tree’s lower branches), I returned to the front of the property and only just succeeded in shimmying over while trying to placate their intimidatingly large dog that was making his displeasure clearly known. It’s a miracle none of the neighbours saw me and I’m glad they didn’t as it certainly couldn’t have looked good.

I’ve not tried any new ethnic food such as walkie-talkies or koeksisters (for those of you who watched this year’s Great British Bake-Off, it featured in the doughnut week): a cholesterol-exploding doughnut that is plaited, deep-fried then soaked in warm syrup. The idea of having one to myself frightens me, and I’ve had it on good authority that they are at their best when fresh, else it’s just a glob of sugary dough that only tastes of sugar. Ostrich and springbok are definitely a possibility though.

This week I was faced with the undeniable reality that a notable percentage of the locals still use witchdoctors when there were concerns that a child in school was wearing something around the top of his arm. I've certainly heard conversations about land being burnt to get rid of 'curses' put upon properties by disgruntled neighbours who've seen a witchdoctor, and ceremonies that endorse ancestral worship with rituals claiming to draw power or help from the bones of dead relatives, but the association of wearing a band round the arm, ankle or waist with witchcraft certainly never crossed my mind. I'd forgotten about this all when I wore an anklet to work and was repeatedly questioned by various children as to where the anklet came from and who gave it to me. Will have to avoid doing that in future!

In other news I’m starting to get used to the frequent thunderstorms, though it has made me question my sanity a few times. I am constantly doubting my eyesight and wondering whether the lights did just dim a little momentarily, or I blinked and forgot. Being able to hear the thunder before the storm arrives is another object of humour to me, as though the storms have their own Jaws theme tune = shark thing going on. Hearing of temperatures getting near to 0’C back home in England is only serving to heighten the disorientation my body is feeling right now, when I’m wandering around in shorts and t-shirts. I beginning to wonder how December is ever going to feel Christmassy without Costa’s seasonal salted caramel/cinnamon hot chocolates, Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park, the weeks spent in anticipation of the ever elusive snow-days, or any number of things I’ve come to associate Christmas with. Now faced with the prospect of having what is the summer holiday over here during Christmas feels absurd; six weeks of braais (BBQs), sunshine soaked walks and near daily thunderstorms with a distinct lack of Christmas spirit amongst the locals. Apparently Christmas trees aren’t so big in Basotho culture though they are more of a tradition in Afrikaans families. So yes, I will be sad that I’m not at home over Christmas but then again I recognise that it would be missing an opportunity to see more of South Africa, and experiencing it from a different point of view. Reading a good book whilst sunbathing (doused in factor 50 if the rumours of the heat are true) will be a good perspective to begin with.

Hopefully before the Christmas/summer holidays I’ll be able to climb Mt Horeb again and attempt reaching it’s summit, though it will be necessary this time round to be aware of any snakes due to the warmer weather. With any luck it will be possible to take photos of the landscape from up high so I can show you just how much the view changes after a bit of rain. It’s become all to clear why some people are tempted to burn the land (albeit with great care and caution) before the end of the winter as it makes the new grass to grow far quicker after rainfall. The juxtaposition is shown quite well on Mt Horeb where a good half of it burnt and is now well on its way to becoming a luscious green colour, and the unburnt half is only green in patches.