A True Story

An incident yesterday has made me look at what wonders there are in the world so I thought I’d share with you a true story, which happened to me.

There are a few things that I have seen in the course of my travels that have made me sit up and wonder. The pilot whales in the Atlantic and the French man who waved his hands and took my pain away to name a couple I have encountered, but it’s the story of two little birds who had the hearts of eagles I want to acquaint you with today.

My partner and I were living in a small village in Western Provence; South Africa with three cats and a beautiful view over the river to the mountains beyond. It had a stope to the front of the house with a large table and chairs with a braai attached to the wall of the house. Our outside inside room as my partner used to describe it.

We would sit outside in the evenings watching the sun go down and throwing shadows over the mountains. I’d light a fire and have a laker chop and a dop “Life don’t get much better.”

One spring morning, a couple of years ago I came out to find the beginning of a swallow’s nest being constructed on the braai chimney. Swallow’s build their nests out of mud which they carry in their mouths all chewed up then spit it out onto the wall they mold it into a round shape with a funnel at the end, probably so their chicks don’t fall out when their away from the nest. After some discussion regarding the placement of the nest with the three cats, they don’t like poached eggs, I thought it best to discourage the two swallows from building it on the chimney and scraped the beginnings of their home off the wall.

A day later I had a visit from the two swallows. They both perched on the top of one of the high backed chairs opposite me and gave me what can only be described as “a rite good tongue lashing”. Well the bloke just stood there. If I understood her correctly she was telling me she was pregnant and this was the best place for their home and why couldn't they build their home on this stope, you don’t own the place. The bloke just stood there totally embarrassed and looked away with a stance that said “look mate, see what I have to put up with, have a heart”

I first explained about the cats; “Cats can’t fly” she tweeted. “Ok Ok” I agreed “but you can’t build your home on the chimney your chicks would cook.” “We will build it off the wall” she conceded “we’ll start tomorrow” she stated “OK” I agreed. The bloke look at me nodded his head as if to say cheers mate and they were off.

 The following day they started building their home again and this time they left an inch of space between the chimney and the back of their nest.

That is ridiculous; you can’t have had a conversation with two swallows regarding the construction of their nest. Why did they leave an inch between the chimney and the back of their nest, the nest I destroyed was on the chimney. I don’t believe you can have a conversation with two birds either, but it happened to me, so what can I say.

They built their nest and raised two chicks that year and they came and showed them off to us prior to going overseas, we named them Poached and Boiled.

The following spring they were back, said hello and when straight into their home, watched intensively by the pussy cats licking their lips. We left that house soon after, they were right we didn't own it, we were renting.

It’s their home now I will visit the house at Christmas and see if they returned to their home for a third year?

The Jungles of Panama

It’s been a while since my last blog and I have done a fair bit of travelling since I thought I would let write down what it’s like for me living in a third world country in the tropics. Not the usual type of adventure I write about but an adventure none the less. I am in the jungles of Panama working on the construction of a dam. The construction site employs nearly 1,000 people on a daily basis, seven days a week. There is a small town build up around the camp offering the usual services you find where a 1,0000 single men away from home. Not that I live in the camp. The dam is the sixth dam on a river which runs very close to the border with Costa Rica where on occasions I have pop over for lunch.

I have been housed on a beach in a condo with all the modern first world amenities, air conditioning, dish washer, fridge, range etc. It has three bedrooms and I have an on suite bathroom with the king size bed. The most famous sportsman in Panama is a baseball player who plays for the New York Yankees it’s his condo that the company rents for me. It is in a beach club complex with a 4/5 star hotel next door with heliport, where I have an account. At weekend the rich and famous come to play in the hotel. There are lots of beautiful young ladies with older gentlemen, whom I can only assume are their fathers. I tend to have breakfast there on a Sunday, which is my day off to admire the view. It is no more than 50 yards to the sea and less than 10yds to the 25mt swimming pool from my balcony which has a big gas fired BBQ on it. The company supply me with a 4x4 SUV to get to work and back which takes 50mins. The office is in the jungle at the site of the construction project. I live 30 minutes outside the second biggest city in Panama called San Jose David where there is a Western supermarket pick up supplies for the following week. In the supermarket I found cans of Boddingtons which I bought the last eight, I do hope they get some more, life will me hell with a can of English beer. San Jose David and the road I take to the site, the Pan American highway is the main route for the drug cartels use carry their drugs to their main market in the USA. There are regular patrols and stops at random by lots of police, soldiers or custom officials, I am never sure which. While my Spanish is improving I tend not to use it when speaking to young men with guns. There was a long traffic jam one evening heading home when I arrived at the cause the police were there in force as there had been a gang land shooting on the highway. They had dragged the body of the “hit” off the road and left it laying by the side so all the rubber necker’s were having a good look, which was the cause of the delay. In typical London style I thought it was a little inconvenience for them to go shooting and killing people during rush hour. The Construction Union called a national strike last month so it was very peaceful once I got to site. There was the minor irritation of driving through the picket lines but the security staff always turned out carrying pump action shotguns so there was never any serious trouble. The security men all carry shotguns as I said the site is very close to the boarder and occasionally during the night people and mules wonder through the area to cross over the boards. I think they must be after the duty free. As I write this a tropical down pour is falling from the sky. It’s the rainy season, which means a tropical storm of gigantic proportions appears every afternoon between three and four o’clock. I have never witnessed a deluge of this magnitude before It can mean not leaving the site until it stops. The owner of the dam was in my office last week and the rains started and he couldn’t leave as a river was running outside the front door and his office was only 10mts away. Of course the electricity and internet goes off for a while during the storm. However in Panama there is no need to worry about a little water from the sky. It’s the earthquake’s that make the place interesting. I always like a good knee trembler and here you just never know when the next one is coming!