tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40930191555564495762024-03-13T09:28:57.975-07:00My Life Before CharenteDianehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14782670749466305626noreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-75785309076480584152018-02-14T06:59:00.002-08:002022-02-03T07:57:16.007-08:00A holiday in Mauritius.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">At the end of my <a href="http://aboutmebeforecharente.blogspot.fr/2016/09/yet-another-big-change-in-my-life.html" target="_blank">last post</a> on this blog (over one year ago!), I said that I had no photos of my home in Johannesburg, or of the horse hospital where I was then working. While looking for photos of Mauritius, I came across a few of the horse hospital, and a picture of the outside of the block of flats, into which I first moved when I went to Johannesburg. Here they are, just to keep you up to date with the story so far.</span></div>
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<span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOIDJdkTbR5WnbYbqyLft8Zcm8Zp891p3X3YSSOi_qTpFck3mVBGdvCnzUFPNbxuQqn2O0aJDcyDhzMlARkOWpVv9MS_6Eu-9MIFU9saD8liVYJO78oObKYUr2VyCuQvUEGPnTQyfe_Zc/s1600/HHFlat.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOIDJdkTbR5WnbYbqyLft8Zcm8Zp891p3X3YSSOi_qTpFck3mVBGdvCnzUFPNbxuQqn2O0aJDcyDhzMlARkOWpVv9MS_6Eu-9MIFU9saD8liVYJO78oObKYUr2VyCuQvUEGPnTQyfe_Zc/s640/HHFlat.jpg" width="610" /></a></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Constantine Apartments, where I first stayed in Hillbrow, a densely populated suburb just to the north-east of the CBD. As I said in the previous post, even then it was not a particularly desirable area, and I was glad to move out after 6 months!</span></div>
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<span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnUFsMfjE1N7Fi1zVjtlVFAdb4z_L71r3sW5oJXr0Z1qY70wEEFmooVRqBILDriyFi-aLy4CSbDMqh7xvHeQTAYf2zoA098k9Rpp2lj6HyLhHeLQTQTWG-yACBppW6q6McnQ0U-7RYUaM/s1600/HHJhb.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnUFsMfjE1N7Fi1zVjtlVFAdb4z_L71r3sW5oJXr0Z1qY70wEEFmooVRqBILDriyFi-aLy4CSbDMqh7xvHeQTAYf2zoA098k9Rpp2lj6HyLhHeLQTQTWG-yACBppW6q6McnQ0U-7RYUaM/s640/HHJhb.jpg" width="568" /></a></span></div>
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One of the views I had of the concrete jungle where I started out my new life in South Africa.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQlhY1dwFzAcFNUoRnjIEP5V0OlDy-CW4bJiMKzL35eDHdwm12nght_c5-Bunt_PGjbamf5NDV_1zlU2LZSU90fidm9Dubk0mCaEEDHgbM3Y8JGIg2ZanNo_DSbD_mq3JYw5jsu9cIctw/s1600/HHSign.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQlhY1dwFzAcFNUoRnjIEP5V0OlDy-CW4bJiMKzL35eDHdwm12nght_c5-Bunt_PGjbamf5NDV_1zlU2LZSU90fidm9Dubk0mCaEEDHgbM3Y8JGIg2ZanNo_DSbD_mq3JYw5jsu9cIctw/s640/HHSign.jpg" width="606" /></a></div>
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The gateway into the horse hospital where I was then working.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiBvF1hCA9EgKDwViP6GtWP6JnubCeEocQk0l2NRFNH5I7Uujsfw0cROzHcvnU5y3NUmmRuAhPBmbQTdES4jVnszB6tm1bF1oZiaHLRXnDZ3D76NqaPR7fXTTqJsWzbjTwC0GMCsV0qVM/s1600/HHStablesA.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiBvF1hCA9EgKDwViP6GtWP6JnubCeEocQk0l2NRFNH5I7Uujsfw0cROzHcvnU5y3NUmmRuAhPBmbQTdES4jVnszB6tm1bF1oZiaHLRXnDZ3D76NqaPR7fXTTqJsWzbjTwC0GMCsV0qVM/s640/HHStablesA.jpg" width="592" /></a></div>
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Some of the stables where the horses were hospitalised.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsg6kNhyphenhyphengWW19AE8mMdIo-Sx12gnijgd71iWSgKOHoYFMwTG33K3uKkeSp5ysCRljDtK1EbXwu_5AHnJBZMxEpRADuEFAxOxJbF-ove7S5sqLzaZlqEm0kKpuu52l_EDVrLSPjMnZdG9w/s1600/HHOpTheatre.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsg6kNhyphenhyphengWW19AE8mMdIo-Sx12gnijgd71iWSgKOHoYFMwTG33K3uKkeSp5ysCRljDtK1EbXwu_5AHnJBZMxEpRADuEFAxOxJbF-ove7S5sqLzaZlqEm0kKpuu52l_EDVrLSPjMnZdG9w/s640/HHOpTheatre.jpg" width="616" /></a></div>
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The operating theatre, is always a busy place!</div>
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Continuing with the next part of my story.....</div>
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In 1980, I had decided that I would like a really good holiday, so I planned a trip to Mauritius in the Indian Ocean in February 1981 for 8 days. Meanwhile in January of the same year while at work I had a phone call from a man called Nigel, who had just arrived from the UK. He had quite a strong Somerset accent, or so it seemed to me at the time, and I had some difficulty in understanding him! He had apparently been given my phone number by a cousin of my Mum's and was from Bath. I thought that I had better do something about my social life, so I invited him for a meal. We were instantly good friends and <span face="verdana, sans-serif">a couple of weeks later, </span>he took me to the airport for my Mauritian holiday.</div>
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What a wonderful holiday I had! We had a bit of an upset on the outward flight, as when landing in Durban en route, everyone was told there had been a phone call and a bomb might be on board! The plane was emptied and all luggage removed, and which we in turn had to go and identify. Several hours later, after a thorough check, we were allowed back on board and we continued the trip to Mauritius. </div>
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<span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">On arrival there, the hotel had a car waiting for me and I was duly transported to the Peninsula Hotel, a lovely place sited, of course, on a peninsula on the south-east coast (!), not too far from the airport. I was soon ushered into the dining room, as they were worried that, with the plane's late arrival, I would miss my evening meal. All went well until I ordered lychees for my dessert; I soon started coughing badly, as an errant fruit decided to take a trip down my windpipe! A young man from a table nearby came over to see if there was anything he could do, and the end result was that I went for a drink with him and his friends afterwards. He was a local and he had two brothers, one of whom was a sugar farmer, and the other was living in Australia, but at that time he was on the island on holiday. It was arranged that the Australian/Mauritian would pick me up the following day and I would join the family for lunch. It turned out that the family were my constant daily companions for the next 8 days and I was taken to many parts of the island that I would never have seen if I had been alone! In the evenings, I was spoilt by the hotel staff, who put a huge amount of effort into making my stay a happy one, and with their help and one of the South African pilots who was holidaying there, I had very little time to myself. I did manage to find some time to do a little tanning, and I returned back to Johannesburg not only brown, but also fit and healthy from dancing every evening! Nigel duly met me at the airport and took me back to my flat where we made plans to be together the following weekend.</span></div>
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<span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-BevIqDGbkj76ASGevdDn1aMhkRObaDYpNZc_MSyLlqqg2RKhGAbqDQDiH16H8sGN1slcfICcAaTax0TgrHDqJOhF0XQKDHici3W-qVAEk8lb5IH9UEvArpjo5yA5JoT78UMnMJ3Ll40/s1600/MauritiusLePeninsulaHotelB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" data-original-height="501" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-BevIqDGbkj76ASGevdDn1aMhkRObaDYpNZc_MSyLlqqg2RKhGAbqDQDiH16H8sGN1slcfICcAaTax0TgrHDqJOhF0XQKDHici3W-qVAEk8lb5IH9UEvArpjo5yA5JoT78UMnMJ3Ll40/s640/MauritiusLePeninsulaHotelB.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">The Peninsula Hotel. I had a room upstairs with fabulous views. The weather was perfect, and even in the light rain we occasionally had, it was possible to walk around and enjoy the views and the scenery.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtV0dsUTixrq6QqYHqwRS8HHjexYdNPOnxvbTFZM5rsDI0pdM5VuMaszobzwavFHKkktmR1vddHLbU3kR6C6yl8fHMSb-xZvnWYlXVURjKd3nGL85Yt6yfGxTZagH-QpUCrYiLjT0pcs/s1600/MauritiusLePeninsulaBeachA.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="601" data-original-width="800" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtV0dsUTixrq6QqYHqwRS8HHjexYdNPOnxvbTFZM5rsDI0pdM5VuMaszobzwavFHKkktmR1vddHLbU3kR6C6yl8fHMSb-xZvnWYlXVURjKd3nGL85Yt6yfGxTZagH-QpUCrYiLjT0pcs/s640/MauritiusLePeninsulaBeachA.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A walk along the beachfront.</div>
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<span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">The busy and somewhat untidy streets of Port Louis. Port Louis is the capital city of Mauritius and it's known both for its French colonial architecture (of which I have no photos) and the 19th-century Champ de Mars horse-racing track. Sadly I never got to see a race meeting there!</span></div>
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<span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_kwG3-c_uNLdjTyKp-DUwL23yIt2qvKz48NZ25kC1NDP28G_vgtBRS6Z9Y02Yl56Isx-4Tb1L3KwEquEwDihw4fM-Am1vO6qT-supaoLwMhd1zLK5_3mcRt85LoXsKZWBYZ9romfOBZA/s1600/MauritiusSugarCaneA.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="800" height="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_kwG3-c_uNLdjTyKp-DUwL23yIt2qvKz48NZ25kC1NDP28G_vgtBRS6Z9Y02Yl56Isx-4Tb1L3KwEquEwDihw4fM-Am1vO6qT-supaoLwMhd1zLK5_3mcRt85LoXsKZWBYZ9romfOBZA/s640/MauritiusSugarCaneA.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxBasUuCFiDz-SRjNbHFsOV1BS_myQQGuymQftNQ3nPgUSNXkpW9BlLBzCaYQq5iLofOcmGFJhB_-5nSN0BMXgQEScoal8HxRHqocBlLq1Ub3mcGlvRi-rGtNPczrYFewJXecfUuJwLpI/s1600/MauritiusWaterLiliesA.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="353" data-original-width="800" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxBasUuCFiDz-SRjNbHFsOV1BS_myQQGuymQftNQ3nPgUSNXkpW9BlLBzCaYQq5iLofOcmGFJhB_-5nSN0BMXgQEScoal8HxRHqocBlLq1Ub3mcGlvRi-rGtNPczrYFewJXecfUuJwLpI/s640/MauritiusWaterLiliesA.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">
<span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Giant water lilies at Pamplemousses Botanical Garden, leaves of some of which are more than 6 feet wide!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Since this so much has happened, I will update one day!!</span></div>
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<span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Please note the following update.</span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">The section of our overland trip is published on kindle if you should be interested</span></div>
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<b><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=The+great+1953+trek" style="color: #09a5b8; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">LINK</span></a></b></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-17544975953549274522016-09-25T08:14:00.000-07:002016-09-25T08:17:56.398-07:00Yet another big change in my life - A change of country.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">At the beginning of 1977, one of <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">our local</span> racehorse owners arranged for a South African vet to come up to Salisbury for three days, during which he would perform a number of operations. I was asked if I would like to join the<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> group</span> for dinner one <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">evening</span>, and this <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">proved to be</span> the start of an excellent friendship<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span> I was offered a job in South Africa at his surgery where I would help in the laboratory, assist <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">during </span>operations, and generally look after the horses in the hospital. I had no desire to leave Rhodesia and turned the job down without a second thought. I had many phone calls from the vet over the next yea<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">r,</span> telling me that the job was still there for me and eventually I <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">accepted<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">,</span></span> on condition that<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> I could get </span>a work permit. Meanwhile, Mum and I <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">embarked on</span> a camping holiday early in 1978, driving down through South Africa <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">to the south coast and</span> along the <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"G</span>arden <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">R</span>oute" <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">to Cape To<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">wn. We would then return home to Salisbury</span></span> via Johannesburg.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My trusty, solid and so reliable Datsun 120Y, with Mum checking out the tent. It had to be a high tent as with oesophagus problems Mum could not bend over easily.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Mum in the dinosaur <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">p</span>ark near Sudwala caves in what used to be the Eastern Transvaal.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmPAK5viaNdTUd4M8S7QvUu-k3cVkhCx4diUgx-WSRaxRqRUbCdUiVU2HcfWKvXlLLFi7hUVjpmL85EL2UN5Qe2T9wijVpL_0km5OKNlBja95p0aPXDoyUPNTVe1pMDliupwSR28m5N0s/s1600/1978Tent+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="524" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmPAK5viaNdTUd4M8S7QvUu-k3cVkhCx4diUgx-WSRaxRqRUbCdUiVU2HcfWKvXlLLFi7hUVjpmL85EL2UN5Qe2T9wijVpL_0km5OKNlBja95p0aPXDoyUPNTVe1pMDliupwSR28m5N0s/s640/1978Tent+%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Camping at Storms River<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">;</span> is that a bottle of wine just being finished in style? Ha ha.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTxn5xEN97QsvW_CFPf4AGweMQ8DsacfbRasGquCwo-9few0M8g1BUze_jQi9Chjz_HfATnPow16wug1tI6DYaPFEeLakjc7W1vhtyatmZr1EWoPFkAsOS2Y4Lwi5uKUf8OCmESgOAGbE/s1600/1978StormsRiver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTxn5xEN97QsvW_CFPf4AGweMQ8DsacfbRasGquCwo-9few0M8g1BUze_jQi9Chjz_HfATnPow16wug1tI6DYaPFEeLakjc7W1vhtyatmZr1EWoPFkAsOS2Y4Lwi5uKUf8OCmESgOAGbE/s640/1978StormsRiver.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Storms River, a beautiful place on the coast betwe<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">en Port Elizabeth and Cape Town</span>.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYhinA3rspjaFeQPR6Tls-Fw-cxIajLn3xRPUwBxnyR5FidjA0A1S02jfvQLKU60-IJU4K3F3AUr7_LqA0fjIXCb2ZOu8GceEO3L9j-m1Vj_fqsx3_HVNRGAJzkBjNk4JqtVnI0spuB0/s1600/1978CTcablecar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="638" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYhinA3rspjaFeQPR6Tls-Fw-cxIajLn3xRPUwBxnyR5FidjA0A1S02jfvQLKU60-IJU4K3F3AUr7_LqA0fjIXCb2ZOu8GceEO3L9j-m1Vj_fqsx3_HVNRGAJzkBjNk4JqtVnI0spuB0/s640/1978CTcablecar.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Looking down at the cable car from the cable car station on top of Table Mountain, Cape Town. It's much more modern these days!!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZZlASF0cx7J9t9T-53ZHxqh1VbjxTIARITdnFsSpSGVYmLE91hX9Xg6_Ea_qp6QXA66U4oXBHtXwie0xP8vz6m0pq-JPliIUCzt3B77GjCp8IzZ02nQ9zJMZXRdfiDuBdtRM23ttW4XQ/s1600/1978CTview.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZZlASF0cx7J9t9T-53ZHxqh1VbjxTIARITdnFsSpSGVYmLE91hX9Xg6_Ea_qp6QXA66U4oXBHtXwie0xP8vz6m0pq-JPliIUCzt3B77GjCp8IzZ02nQ9zJMZXRdfiDuBdtRM23ttW4XQ/s640/1978CTview.jpg" width="606" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">What a view out to sea...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOX7F-zv0warUBBKgvUcsyQ9TnI0gObAI-tn2CUsi84LTAO9RLUh3D4qhjTbAlEIJ2_gya-RwwkK_9VWtjJbihRmmaQ4INZMuyBNABj69B7t_XfAnPYl9bYM80uFr78JzaLaC1Q2BqaqI/s1600/1978CTnight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOX7F-zv0warUBBKgvUcsyQ9TnI0gObAI-tn2CUsi84LTAO9RLUh3D4qhjTbAlEIJ2_gya-RwwkK_9VWtjJbihRmmaQ4INZMuyBNABj69B7t_XfAnPYl9bYM80uFr78JzaLaC1Q2BqaqI/s640/1978CTnight.jpg" width="636" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">and later in the evening, the lights of Cape Town. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpX9SJftLJlFbXemxJY-3ht0FjZoMjsHodmBGuzg9Sgi3cQYFt98j5w5izWbdVgHMrZVXo39TMM0hjBXyawrnXhnjuNTuy3vubD6ukKvp6ktG8X-o5uoPlMSi4hVka2aSjdd12QIEMNio/s1600/1978CTsheepskins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpX9SJftLJlFbXemxJY-3ht0FjZoMjsHodmBGuzg9Sgi3cQYFt98j5w5izWbdVgHMrZVXo39TMM0hjBXyawrnXhnjuNTuy3vubD6ukKvp6ktG8X-o5uoPlMSi4hVka2aSjdd12QIEMNio/s640/1978CTsheepskins.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">While waiting for the cable car to arrive, we bought these two sheepskins from the local vendors. I still have mine, (the white one)<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">; I'm </span>not sure what happened to Mum's<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">While camping in Cape Town, our tent was 'broken into'. As you can see, we were close to the boundary fence. The fence was cut <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">with wire cutters</span> and the back of the tent slashed with a knife. Our picnic case was stolen, but dropped just on the other side of the fence<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">.<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> O</span></span>bviously on inspection it was of no interest<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span> What did totally disappear though, w<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ere</span> our tins of food and all my make up!!! Very frustrating. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> On our return <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">home </span>to Rhodesia, we stopped off <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">in</span> Johannesburg and I went to have a <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">better</span> look at the <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">horse</span> hospital, which was situated<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> a few kilometres south-east of the <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">C<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">BD</span></span></span>. I got to see at first h<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">and</span> what the work <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">en</span>tailed<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> and</span> I was greeted with the news that a temporary work permit had already been obtained!<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> My</span> residence permit <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">could be applied for and issued</span> once I had started work. This meant that all that was left to do was to hand in my notice at work and terminate the rental on my house in Greendale. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The "international" move</span> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">occupied</span> a frantic couple of months, getting everything sorted out in both countries.<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> My accommodation, a small<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> f</span></span>lat <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">in Hillbrow, just next to the CBD in Johannesburg</span>, was <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">set up</span> for me and on 1 April 1978, I signed <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">a 6 month ren<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">tal contract</span>.</span> Hillbrow, <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">then and now,<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> is</span></span> not a particularly desirable area, especially for a young woman alone<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> and</span> the search was on very quickly for other accommodation<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBG86eVhbA1zwFdU4ZqX20JBjpPr2_OaHLKmvHtLqLWmmOwtzz9idZqvp9m3gUef8JTul9eZx_XSaJV1Y4ls0uNQIK4TiJMSvdeawXwFm0HBPY6jkoFVAOtcJYNyGcuS_v4_VjqrNH5ME/s1600/1979Hillbrough.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBG86eVhbA1zwFdU4ZqX20JBjpPr2_OaHLKmvHtLqLWmmOwtzz9idZqvp9m3gUef8JTul9eZx_XSaJV1Y4ls0uNQIK4TiJMSvdeawXwFm0HBPY6jkoFVAOtcJYNyGcuS_v4_VjqrNH5ME/s640/1979Hillbrough.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A view of the concrete jungle <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">in which</span> I lived <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">when I</span> first arrived in Johannesburg<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">.</span> I hated it<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span></span></div>
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Meanwhile, I <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">was loving</span> my work at the horse hospital and I had made friends with one of our clients, who was also a race horse trainer. This soon meant that I was up <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">with the lar<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">k</span></span> every morning and riding work for him at the New<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">m</span>arket racecourse, which was only a couple of minutes drive from the hospital. Not only was I more than happy in my job, but I was back riding on a daily basis once more<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdp0GPp8jKsPS7atzgx7Cz22PGLF71Hxu0gtC0AvXg6yGgWxVkES_bF3XypB5jZRquCLLkP7Kb5L32vgireSbANZM4aGZaYlWt_791ayp10rNZPI1xGcAB3GpKO7YvPzZ3p8zP3xXY3-c/s1600/1979Albertonracecourse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdp0GPp8jKsPS7atzgx7Cz22PGLF71Hxu0gtC0AvXg6yGgWxVkES_bF3XypB5jZRquCLLkP7Kb5L32vgireSbANZM4aGZaYlWt_791ayp10rNZPI1xGcAB3GpKO7YvPzZ3p8zP3xXY3-c/s640/1979Albertonracecourse.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The stands at Newmarket racecourse as they were in the late 1970s. Today, the whole place has been totally refurbished<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> to modern standards and is a magnificent gathering place for the <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">horse-racing</span> c<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ommunity</span>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A</span>s my <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">flat</span> rental</span> contract was about to <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">expire, </span>I found accommodation in Alberton, which is <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">a</span> suburb a few kilometres south-ea<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">st of the Johannesburg CBD and where</span> the hospital stands. This was perfect for me after enduring six months in Hillbrow<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span> I was more than happy to move into the downstairs part of a double storey house, owned by an elderly couple who had <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">had to flee</span> the Belgi<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">an</span> Congo in rather a hurry during the rioting many years before. They were the most delightful couple and became like second parents to me.</div>
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The days just flew by, as I would be up at 04h00 each morning to ride work at the racecourse and then off to work by 08h00<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span> At the end of the working day, I was more than ready to just go back to my downstairs flat, have a meal and fall into bed, so as to be ready for another early start the following da<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">y!</span> My social life pretty much disappeared, other than the times when I would take some leave and drive up to Rhodesia <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">to spend</span> a week with my folks. </div>
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Sadly, I do not seem to have any photos of my home in Alberton or of the horse hospital. I had no blogs to write in those days and the camera obviously had very little use!!!<br />
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<span style="color: blue;">The section of our overland trip is published on kindle if you should be interested</span></div>
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<img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP7Z4hwgnC16vW9mScZ26CTMYT5oHf22BBzDDAHQV3SW4lge75soaiTvyz3uKLE6CMq6hzjFVpDXYPjyHXsmtNMfUEjLyXmejv7dAa4gpN-q5z-UsdK8UnpzaF2yYNIdNrs9LVh_I-lTM/s200/AmazonTrek.jpg" width="140" /></div>
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<b><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=The+great+1953+trek" target="_blank">LINK</a></b></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-42713369653491377412016-04-09T07:54:00.000-07:002016-04-09T07:54:55.237-07:00Another life change - a new job and then promotion!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The five years that I spent working at the surgery w<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ere<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span></span>very happy and enjoyable<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">;</span></span> however, I decided to bring this to an end<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> as a result of an offer<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> of</span></span> a job by the manager of one of the local veterinary drug companies. The Farmers Co-op had a very large <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">v</span>eterinary department and the drug company wanted a representative working there. It was a great opportunity <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">for a new challenge and</span> I was finally employed late in 1977<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span>by both organisations on a 50/50 shared basis, the Co-op <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">paying my salary </span>and the drug company <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">t</span>aking a commission on the sales.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDlD1Xs2BCBW5VWsLWvaXUCICvtA_r3d1gvPrHuiEoIEKxCIt7klkqaXwCnITPOri9nB0P2IvljY8qBNW7nlkmGFkfXGgyAwHkT0QJjEc27iuz0Q7mORXZz-Mu6PJxgrmsKV9y4QpMy3Q/s1600/1976DianeRuwaLongDressBeads.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDlD1Xs2BCBW5VWsLWvaXUCICvtA_r3d1gvPrHuiEoIEKxCIt7klkqaXwCnITPOri9nB0P2IvljY8qBNW7nlkmGFkfXGgyAwHkT0QJjEc27iuz0Q7mORXZz-Mu6PJxgrmsKV9y4QpMy3Q/s640/1976DianeRuwaLongDressBeads.jpg" width="396" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Myself taken at my folks home in Ruwa. 1976. This was my <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">all time</span> favourite evening dress with an African bead work decoration, the latter still <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">in my possession<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">change of</span> job meant</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">, of course</span>, that I had <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">to move out of the surgery flat</span> and I was on the search for somewhere else to live. The cottage out at Brackenhurst with my folks was still an option, but I really wanted something in Salisbury and closer to work. I finally found a delightful single storey two bedroom town house</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> with its own small garden<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">,</span></span> for rent in the suburb of Greendale, not very far from the Co-op There was also a <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">car port</span> and an outdoor enclosed area, which was suitable for my cats. By th<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">at time, their number had risen<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> to</span></span> three<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span> A highly bred female lynx point, a non-registered male seal point and lastly to join the family was a Persian colour point.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3NsFpGC8HeqwxNdd0zOpWt3GJnpu0K-OB_pSnhmTpFw99JqtNhzL_fCwNkrM6VXO5H90tSM5mQocHQvOZsYMA7mpvgy3qiiJQqwnXreEYgTG10RlQIw2bT2HR_5o6z9obI_Yhc-Tmdk/s1600/1976RosenaPark3Front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="586" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3NsFpGC8HeqwxNdd0zOpWt3GJnpu0K-OB_pSnhmTpFw99JqtNhzL_fCwNkrM6VXO5H90tSM5mQocHQvOZsYMA7mpvgy3qiiJQqwnXreEYgTG10RlQIw2bT2HR_5o6z9obI_Yhc-Tmdk/s640/1976RosenaPark3Front.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">No 3 Rosena Park, Greendale. The front overlooking the garden...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLkZXD0AOh1ZzXnVn5jZgOaZ8WNeoGRqXuAnZh4aB5eG0iFNXEZMj_iJhyAV3-lsDFoXoethPGGeW0MdfW6jBXhxxyR95j8VxhlE85qCll23m-sttbrm4sjpV_oONiB1nFddrbuwn0ouI/s1600/1976RosenaPark3Garage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLkZXD0AOh1ZzXnVn5jZgOaZ8WNeoGRqXuAnZh4aB5eG0iFNXEZMj_iJhyAV3-lsDFoXoethPGGeW0MdfW6jBXhxxyR95j8VxhlE85qCll23m-sttbrm4sjpV_oONiB1nFddrbuwn0ouI/s640/1976RosenaPark3Garage.jpg" width="632" /></a></div>
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the back with <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">car port</span>....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3LqtpjqUVw6nXwFYmqZDE2tYByl7dnSnLXe-rO0ufaNzxXkypGPeZ6mRfcEUooN46lG-4Jo32nqv0Kv5q_RRuQgvOQ9VgmcGHpjKRPviK-yD6rLDdaI37T2evQuBwvxL1vDeLVua87bE/s1600/1976RosenaPark3Garden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3LqtpjqUVw6nXwFYmqZDE2tYByl7dnSnLXe-rO0ufaNzxXkypGPeZ6mRfcEUooN46lG-4Jo32nqv0Kv5q_RRuQgvOQ9VgmcGHpjKRPviK-yD6rLDdaI37T2evQuBwvxL1vDeLVua87bE/s640/1976RosenaPark3Garden.jpg" width="618" /></a></div>
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and the garden, with its typical southern African planting.</div>
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Work at the Co-op <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">proved to be</span> great fun and I made many very good friends <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">among</span> the farming community, who did most of their shopping there. At the end of my first year, the manager of the <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">veterinary</span> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">d</span>epartment retired and I was offered the job<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span> However,<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> t</span>his would mean that I would have to become wholly a Co-op employee and the <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">drug company <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">arrange<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ment</span> would fall away.</span></span> I went into the situation very carefully and decided that I would be better off employed by the Co-op, but the work load would increase by quite a lot. Not only would I be in charge of the veterinary side of the Co-op, but also the agricultural chemicals and fertilisers used for soil treatment <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">by the farmers. Unfortunately, th<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">e major increase in the range of products I had to deal with</span> meant I spent a lot of time with administration in <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">the</span> </span></span>office and <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">so</span> missed much of the personal over-the-counter contact I had had with the customers. </div>
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By this time, I was doing very little riding other than at the weekends when I would go out to my folks, but Saturday afternoons were still spent helping at the race course, both with my Dad and the staff at Borrowdale Stud, with whom I had kept in touch with throughout. My <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">l</span>ife had pretty much <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">developed into a set routine</span> and the next couple of years were <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">fairly</span> undramatic.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqz7h_yKJWuzS4_Hn1TsESbDBxIJE_jaCkfrxAQ822q8VntRw2g8IByWcvkEYc-JjET-aUG-H6pO-fa7YYhnREvN1s8lNrMsu6yBEMPvYxglJYvl56fUuk8DTxewPWRKuuPAJF8F77vxg/s1600/1977BorrowdaleMerrylegsMumJimmyDiane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqz7h_yKJWuzS4_Hn1TsESbDBxIJE_jaCkfrxAQ822q8VntRw2g8IByWcvkEYc-JjET-aUG-H6pO-fa7YYhnREvN1s8lNrMsu6yBEMPvYxglJYvl56fUuk8DTxewPWRKuuPAJF8F77vxg/s640/1977BorrowdaleMerrylegsMumJimmyDiane.jpg" width="572" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Mum and I leading in Merrylegs with jockey Jimmy Anderson to the winner's enclosure at Borrowdale Park. 1977</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvDT2JSDXDK5O8Hv_feOPJO3OGwE51DP-N_BCdlJQ5FF81j7W81L6LVe0M8DkajbXIVc8BUfxuyUffxyRw9n9xUHJ9s6ZriC5-ezSwGizRc2b2nhCPVQgnj4JTvgocQX8a0-CWnDvK-w/s1600/1977BorrowdaleMerrylegsMumJimmyDianeA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvDT2JSDXDK5O8Hv_feOPJO3OGwE51DP-N_BCdlJQ5FF81j7W81L6LVe0M8DkajbXIVc8BUfxuyUffxyRw9n9xUHJ9s6ZriC5-ezSwGizRc2b2nhCPVQgnj4JTvgocQX8a0-CWnDvK-w/s640/1977BorrowdaleMerrylegsMumJimmyDianeA.jpg" width="584" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As above on a different day. Note the skirt change in length and the white boots of that era!!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLD9k0TGwLdxHTqSghU1-cB-U9HYt29RysKTzLof9to9188Eru_3D5qxM3F5QQbXuV5VXbjWQrf8Ld5kjIq_-Tn9T1o81q4XeNEwLaNX6tAccnZl7yO8aHYmNPW425tzrMrlBAr1WrhI/s1600/1977BorrowdaleRaceCourse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLD9k0TGwLdxHTqSghU1-cB-U9HYt29RysKTzLof9to9188Eru_3D5qxM3F5QQbXuV5VXbjWQrf8Ld5kjIq_-Tn9T1o81q4XeNEwLaNX6tAccnZl7yO8aHYmNPW425tzrMrlBAr1WrhI/s640/1977BorrowdaleRaceCourse.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Borrowdale Park race course stands in 1977.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggq_lce-eQPp9GBiuXRjHIt8qhJZTCoFvC6JDEb-ApExWAv0v43T0K-L05qGyrD87-9mv9E9SfHmU60iA_CmZ98ERAsDNIaNL6YumaqsMPz1SJjPAXUc00vkZFy9_eRYge26hPnn_qfnM/s1600/1976DianeAuntieWinKariba.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="614" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggq_lce-eQPp9GBiuXRjHIt8qhJZTCoFvC6JDEb-ApExWAv0v43T0K-L05qGyrD87-9mv9E9SfHmU60iA_CmZ98ERAsDNIaNL6YumaqsMPz1SJjPAXUc00vkZFy9_eRYge26hPnn_qfnM/s640/1976DianeAuntieWinKariba.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">M</span>y godmother and I </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">at the Kariba dam wall<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span></span>on one of her <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">several</span> visits to Rhodesia. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">See</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; text-decoration: none;"><span style="line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</span></a></span></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-79115896342919803282016-02-08T01:08:00.000-08:002016-02-08T01:08:54.747-08:001973 - A New Beginning<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The</span> most important thing on my mind after Neil and I decided that we could not live together, was that I had to find a job<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span> The<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> daily journey</span> to Marandellas abattoir, where I had been working, was <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">long and</span> impractical<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">,<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span>with no chance of a lift</span> from Dad, <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">who</span> was still <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">w</span>orking in Salisbury, which was in the opposite direction<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span> If I got a job in Salisbury, <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">w</span>e could share the trip and <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">avoid the expense of</span> two cars in constant use. I spoke to Dr Abrey, a vet for whom we had worked in Raffingora and <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">he offered</span> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">me a</span> job as receptionist at his practi<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">c</span>e in Salisbury. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">His</span></span> partnership with two other vets, Dr Wright and Dr Sugden<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">,</span> was extremely busy and I found that I was spending, (much to my delight), a lot of time helping in the theatre with operations. My laboratory knowledge from the days with Dr Condy came in very useful and soon I was doing a lot of the laboratory work as well<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjewRrCBzJZJym97MXp_Ba1TeowsFvH_aJ_eWH12nsmR0q1dbuhzkh8rs5lqo0FX0cYCfkeSKbLnYBFjDqCrsxUZY0tA27E0Zc5aKOQswmSkAfDsT98ZLEKjhFM6xAXLzzdfvOYy8IfIvk/s1600/1970sVetsSurgeryFront.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="382" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjewRrCBzJZJym97MXp_Ba1TeowsFvH_aJ_eWH12nsmR0q1dbuhzkh8rs5lqo0FX0cYCfkeSKbLnYBFjDqCrsxUZY0tA27E0Zc5aKOQswmSkAfDsT98ZLEKjhFM6xAXLzzdfvOYy8IfIvk/s640/1970sVetsSurgeryFront.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>The veterinary surgery. This photo must have been taken in winter (the dry season in Rhodesia) <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">as in summer, </span>the grass would have been green<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After six months I was asked if I would like to move in and live at the surgery, and I would then also be on call for any night visits as well. I jumped at the idea, so two rooms, which had originally been a rest room and kitchen for the staff, were converted into a bedsitter for me, complete with shower and toilet. Outside, I was told I could put up <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">some metal fencing<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> to <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">form an enclosure for</span></span></span> my cat and Rocky, my <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">g</span></span>reat <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">d</span>ane. Mum and Dad helped me with all the work, and we planted grass and made a small garden. I had a large kennel that I could put the cats into if necessary, and soon after, with a litter of kittens on the way, the kennel solved a number of issues. It was very comfy living for me and I soon settled into a routine with work literally on the door step<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlV1mTarExdTEMvEQlTsCIlUdSqoBI7_cstDimf4idhiT1e2UljKkp5f3pFufxve1NFbEvKRxh6NI6BW-ugcSqqZgTl1woGsmRz7YiCdV8IZ01GB_Xp-hLRb0j_jjzEo6bba9e6-_FOuw/s1600/1970sVetsFenceCreeper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="596" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlV1mTarExdTEMvEQlTsCIlUdSqoBI7_cstDimf4idhiT1e2UljKkp5f3pFufxve1NFbEvKRxh6NI6BW-ugcSqqZgTl1woGsmRz7YiCdV8IZ01GB_Xp-hLRb0j_jjzEo6bba9e6-_FOuw/s640/1970sVetsFenceCreeper.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>The fence we put up, with a fast growing creeper that gave me some privacy.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnl6AahMllFHNZfoapYOxpT4J1JLDDsoZSMaSkKAOb9e614LdCMohPgFkD9ucqxf-2_4V0w3PFqJfdbRYTGQQyJmu-7_2wUUg6lpeFxNOGKYHPk1dmaXcby7YFj_PsGuGbuHTvLA7SIP0/s1600/1970sVetsWhimseySootyKittens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="558" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnl6AahMllFHNZfoapYOxpT4J1JLDDsoZSMaSkKAOb9e614LdCMohPgFkD9ucqxf-2_4V0w3PFqJfdbRYTGQQyJmu-7_2wUUg6lpeFxNOGKYHPk1dmaXcby7YFj_PsGuGbuHTvLA7SIP0/s640/1970sVetsWhimseySootyKittens.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>Whimsy, my lynx point on the left, and Sooty my chocolate point <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">in the centre,</span> with their kittens. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWV4zG0h9haa-ygOY8p_Ua6pDVUHr9pQgfn8q3Fx2iBHHQti4YAvv8rNLXnh-hhZhccXlElRKZKUvvE1ZCLd36AeHXvqGKtTtdorIzNK_jp9BnA4E5nh6gmzCIwOFdauEXMfgCrVODRLY/s1600/1970sVetsRockyKittnsWhimsy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="582" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWV4zG0h9haa-ygOY8p_Ua6pDVUHr9pQgfn8q3Fx2iBHHQti4YAvv8rNLXnh-hhZhccXlElRKZKUvvE1ZCLd36AeHXvqGKtTtdorIzNK_jp9BnA4E5nh6gmzCIwOFdauEXMfgCrVODRLY/s640/1970sVetsRockyKittnsWhimsy.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>Rocky, my <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">g</span>reat <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">d</span>ane, taking care not to step on the tiny kittens<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZNPmcuGZZ0Vs-bMnKS0_oqSxM8lCFSLPUrVX18Zy7kZ9QfVxCtvXnReyacwmKUzL1lcpXVteQJv_UTb6VA8aBZa2wHyofxhID6cWaRXMVIyjEsrJKHtMkOhWIEyF6UKtbDKLAnLXN1E/s1600/1970sVetsInside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="628" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZNPmcuGZZ0Vs-bMnKS0_oqSxM8lCFSLPUrVX18Zy7kZ9QfVxCtvXnReyacwmKUzL1lcpXVteQJv_UTb6VA8aBZa2wHyofxhID6cWaRXMVIyjEsrJKHtMkOhWIEyF6UKtbDKLAnLXN1E/s640/1970sVetsInside.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>Inside my little flat, bed under the window, sitting area and dining at the end <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">from which</span> the photo is taken. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Further behind</span> that was a small kitchen.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>Apologies for the photo <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">quality</span>, but <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">it was taken<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> with</span></span> a Brownie box camera, all I owned!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I thoroughly enjoyed my job, living on the premises and I found many of the night calls very interesting. Generally, the vet on duty would take these calls and if <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">he</span> thought it necessary for the animal to be admitted,<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> he</span> would phone me and I would <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">assess the animal when it arrived at the surgery</span>. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I reported back</span> by phone to the vet, who would <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">prescribe</span> the treatment<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> I was to give</span> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">where the ailment was not <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">severe. However, for serious cases where immediate professional treatment could</span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> not be de<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">layed<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span></span></span>until the following day, the vet would come in, and I would help with the <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">wor<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">k</span></span>. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">O</span>ther than car accidents or giving birth, most cases were able to last through to the following day, thus saving many trips for the vets into the surgery at night.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I would have dearly loved to have <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">taken up</span> animal nursing <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">in a serious way</span>, but Dr Wright looked into the <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">procedure for me, </span>and discovered that at the time, the only place I could train was in England and th<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">at</span> was out of the question<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span> Nowadays, there are many universities where one can <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">gain the qualification<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">, and <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">o</span></span>ne would certainly</span> have to be qualified today to do the job I was then doing, not only because of liability and insuran<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ce issues</span>.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIsXz2vNjbe2NdZ9wHvXrXGBQLDCk7gbEORUjQhi6NJGwGWb9kSV_QipWA690gZk_w7N8UTeD0auqcu_MnRiw7yQYirlmIldonCG3H0XbyU6rGondyxZ16AJWo8xf2zaRfgMyPfDKsSB0/s1600/1970sVetsMatiusGdn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="632" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIsXz2vNjbe2NdZ9wHvXrXGBQLDCk7gbEORUjQhi6NJGwGWb9kSV_QipWA690gZk_w7N8UTeD0auqcu_MnRiw7yQYirlmIldonCG3H0XbyU6rGondyxZ16AJWo8xf2zaRfgMyPfDKsSB0/s640/1970sVetsMatiusGdn.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Matius, one of the surgery workers earning some extra money weeding my little garden<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">To</span> the far right of the path <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">there were</span> orchids under <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">cover</span>, and on the far left, beyond the bird bath, was a small fish pond.</span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglRMNkc8ptbObplhy6nlpyW8YnzFMF4FYJ6QrPWE24NBqaShA6vQf50Nbf-naU3nXaN3wDB_I-smtCRcPtuHWh_mJDaNjLlXSjq35QeDOCUaQs6zFhhFZFK80DPEt1K6TsoXROUtu0e-A/s1600/1970sVetsMumWinDadFishPond.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglRMNkc8ptbObplhy6nlpyW8YnzFMF4FYJ6QrPWE24NBqaShA6vQf50Nbf-naU3nXaN3wDB_I-smtCRcPtuHWh_mJDaNjLlXSjq35QeDOCUaQs6zFhhFZFK80DPEt1K6TsoXROUtu0e-A/s640/1970sVetsMumWinDadFishPond.jpg" width="618" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My Mum on the left with my father and my <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">g</span>odmother, who was visiting from the UK. They were watching the fish in the pond. Beyond them are the large windows from the two operating rooms. How lucky it was, and thanks to me, they had a much improved view!</span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKp8N87_ecuZmFEUMXVZ5QLux8-QKGr-yVLqrrNfdhTZo5TGumlYEG5qshs8SlP1C64CflpTfWKX6pZR6Gp5vpaLOHd6_e9K-jn_l8h386xIO5dN2CtuZSj-nBeQ1vmd-hL3abuBM_s6s/s1600/1970sWinIanSmith1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKp8N87_ecuZmFEUMXVZ5QLux8-QKGr-yVLqrrNfdhTZo5TGumlYEG5qshs8SlP1C64CflpTfWKX6pZR6Gp5vpaLOHd6_e9K-jn_l8h386xIO5dN2CtuZSj-nBeQ1vmd-hL3abuBM_s6s/s640/1970sWinIanSmith1.jpg" width="616" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">g</span>odmother who was so delighted to get to meet Ian Smith, the Rhodesian <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">p</span>rime minister at the time. A very proud moment for her<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">During this period, I still went to the race track a couple of mornings a week to keep up my riding, and of course I always had time off on Saturday afternoon, <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">when</span> our weekly horse racing <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">was held</span>. On <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">m</span>ost Sundays, I spent <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">the day out</span> at <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">my parents'</span> smallholding <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">at Ruwa</span>, but by <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">arrangement with the vet practice</span>, I stayed <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">home</span> at nights, so that I was in a position to take any emergency calls.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Early in 1976, Rocky, who was by then 13 years old, an excellent age for <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">that breed</span>, came down with leukaemia. Dr Wright did all he could for him and I am sure his life was extended by several months, but finally his age and the leukaemia took its hold, so before he suffered too badly he was put to sleep. It was a huge loss for me as he had been my constant companion over the last 12 and a half years.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">See</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #09a5b8; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none;"> </span><span style="color: #09a5b8; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none;">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</span></a></span></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-79453370053233596132015-12-03T12:04:00.000-08:002015-12-03T12:04:50.056-08:00Moving house twice and things not working out quite as planned.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In 1970, our neighbours Neville and Wendy moved on to a bigger farm nearby, so we then moved into the<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ir</span> house, which had more room. This <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">however</span> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">turned out to be</span> for a pretty short period, as towards the end of 1971, my father-in-law bought a horse stud, combined with a dairy farm at Marandellas. This decision was made especially with Neil in mind to run it. We therefore left the farm at Raffingora to take up residence in Marandellas, <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">50 miles</span> (80 km) to the south-east of Salisbury.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_8K99BLVd7H5oiz6qj28Zb6BbyUOztj1Qzxr03txhEI_qANd6w_adLmKkDoOSbViSMFwHqIJ8cMjHYwksTfN5vLhkV5ZoCpLieUw7MnfNSd2nW1P347_WyKibrsuZdZkwEI0btLxY2Hw/s1600/1971Packing+4Marendells.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_8K99BLVd7H5oiz6qj28Zb6BbyUOztj1Qzxr03txhEI_qANd6w_adLmKkDoOSbViSMFwHqIJ8cMjHYwksTfN5vLhkV5ZoCpLieUw7MnfNSd2nW1P347_WyKibrsuZdZkwEI0btLxY2Hw/s640/1971Packing+4Marendells.jpg" width="604" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">All our furniture spread over the garden waiting for loading.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Finally all was loaded on the farm truck. It just fitted!! Luckily we had good weather.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As</span> far as I remember, we had a driver for the truck. Neil drove <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">a</span> van full of suitcases with his two dogs, and I drove the car, also full of suitcases <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">and</span> Rocky, my Great Dane.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Our new home at Marandellas. with the guys unloading the truck. Who knew that I would be blogging 45 years later and that <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">diamond <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">format</span> photos are <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">not easy to work with!!</span></span></span></div>
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Neil took out his trainer’s <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">license</span> for horse racing soon after arrival in Marandellas, and looked after the Stud and the race horses. Meanwhile, I became the ‘dairy farmer’. When I could, I used to ride work on the horses, but the dairy was time consuming and its hours mostly clashed with the times when the horses were being exercised.</div>
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Not long after arriving at Marandellas, I acquired a <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">part-time</span> job as receptionist at the Marandellas <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">a</span>bbatoir. The <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">part-time</span> status somehow increased to bec<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">o</span>me full-time , so my days became very full seeing to the dairy in the early mornings and evenings, and then doing the receptionist job <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">all</span> day<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">!</span></div>
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In 1972 my parents left their Borrowdale home where Dad trained his horses. They bought a smallholding of 20 acres with a house and small cottage called Brackenhurst at Ruwa. My father built stables and accommodation for the stable lads, and everyone, plus horses, moved lock stock and barrel. Ruwa was halfway between Marandellas and Salisbury so it was very convenient for <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">us</span></span> to pop in and see them. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj04rjgp8elJPyOMhnGt-QGE9zn_DXcIRXQdX5R20MGC3SXrd0s9REg28PKiyHLag0flaQc6BuDj_R2USYehfCLf8yStFd8oJFKVPBtlSKAQhxxXcTAKmT77JuaxVgbljH39owXfbpG1zI/s1600/1974MumDadFredrickaRuwaCollage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj04rjgp8elJPyOMhnGt-QGE9zn_DXcIRXQdX5R20MGC3SXrd0s9REg28PKiyHLag0flaQc6BuDj_R2USYehfCLf8yStFd8oJFKVPBtlSKAQhxxXcTAKmT77JuaxVgbljH39owXfbpG1zI/s640/1974MumDadFredrickaRuwaCollage.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Mum and Dad at their new home in Ruwa, Mum with Fredricka the basset and my Dad with a rescue dog, Bernie, that never really did settle into family life!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">O</span>pposite Brackenhurst,<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> a</span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">cross the farm road, </span>was another trainer with a sand training track<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">. </span>Dad was offered full use of <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">it<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> for his own horses and that</span></span> suited him very well. The agreement was that Dad would keep the track in working condition and he would have free use of it. I think that he really enjoyed his trips out on the tractor each day, levelling off the track after use<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">;</span> a very stress free exercise! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In 1973 Neil and I were finding living together was not easy and in July we sadly got divorced and I moved into the cottage at Brackenhurst. Our lawyer commented that he wished all divorces were as easy as ours<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">;</span> we simply agreed on everything! Unfortunately, although we were good friends and still remain so, marriage together was obviously not for us. Three years that I have no regrets over, but it was time to start life anew.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "geneva" , sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "geneva" , sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "geneva" , sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">See</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1"><span style="line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="color: #09a5b8; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</span></a></span></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-91738709584198360472015-10-23T11:59:00.000-07:002015-10-23T13:17:38.920-07:00Settling down to married life and farming at Chimbada Farm in Raffingora. 1970.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Farming at Raffingora was something entirely new to me; our
main crop was cotton, which involved quite long and hard work during the picking
season. It had to be continually watched and treated for unwanted insects and disease; the spray plane came in regularly! When we were picking, all the staff
and their families, children included, were busy during all daylight hours and they
were paid according to weight picked. Pickers were also shared, being moved around between neighbouring farms to keep up with the work required, hoping that everyone's crop did not need picking quite at the same time!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ZAySjVzn4rLTKsna2ky9-yKAPiUgwT0O7e1FtTk89Xw9Il4-XxucXlrIcYny96PwAhXi3ksmMJzt4cTXzlpg_zi12dBZXW1d9LtslFc32VveOKcwYB2Z3IQ3kjBQp5V2XuQM9gjf6GY/s1600/1970NeilcheckingCoton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="614" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ZAySjVzn4rLTKsna2ky9-yKAPiUgwT0O7e1FtTk89Xw9Il4-XxucXlrIcYny96PwAhXi3ksmMJzt4cTXzlpg_zi12dBZXW1d9LtslFc32VveOKcwYB2Z3IQ3kjBQp5V2XuQM9gjf6GY/s640/1970NeilcheckingCoton.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Neil checking the cotton; behind him, his means of transport around the farm!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl_kmcrj2Jj9G4ejrBTQDouJqVeqPDkAUhPliFxjq2M9o6awMT9tGynjxPivFXdHpnau3mz5VzG-eRwCKTCL4NVJ1MJ_uvwWXUxsVv9N0dVbR6Tr0H1pZlGhVRKi4FjxalELMjb8h48K8/s1600/1970CropSpraying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="524" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl_kmcrj2Jj9G4ejrBTQDouJqVeqPDkAUhPliFxjq2M9o6awMT9tGynjxPivFXdHpnau3mz5VzG-eRwCKTCL4NVJ1MJ_uvwWXUxsVv9N0dVbR6Tr0H1pZlGhVRKi4FjxalELMjb8h48K8/s640/1970CropSpraying.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Crop spraying. Note the guy with the marker! Not at all healthy for him, I imagine! I am sure today with GPS navigation this would not be necessary.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pkA9osPH-pEOvIIBQJzC1DPVLWud4raRdptLHTU3huUfQ8neP2Qo20WEUweH5QcYZeec91sbq2yVt7eZ-95gp87lrVeHD6tQ5fjtJI-2ecWtpgOYvXjBisRHSZrurPAQwRhW7aZv5OA/s1600/1970CottonSheds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pkA9osPH-pEOvIIBQJzC1DPVLWud4raRdptLHTU3huUfQ8neP2Qo20WEUweH5QcYZeec91sbq2yVt7eZ-95gp87lrVeHD6tQ5fjtJI-2ecWtpgOYvXjBisRHSZrurPAQwRhW7aZv5OA/s640/1970CottonSheds.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Cotton barns.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFNqIqYGPCTRwg0o51d8ObrMr8ASsLpXbo3pQru43Y6V1zgUN9Xv4ptjR3g2uBtn-p7SP6mk98WP2zRakCy7aA8pDVeGgc5wqRAAcID0CBy_QNfUivj7rpp3EnGu0yqCS9qGvDjx8H5tg/s1600/1970CotonOffForSale.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="502" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFNqIqYGPCTRwg0o51d8ObrMr8ASsLpXbo3pQru43Y6V1zgUN9Xv4ptjR3g2uBtn-p7SP6mk98WP2zRakCy7aA8pDVeGgc5wqRAAcID0CBy_QNfUivj7rpp3EnGu0yqCS9qGvDjx8H5tg/s640/1970CotonOffForSale.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Baled and off for sale.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In winter, we grew wheat. Not as time consuming as cotton, but also a lot
of work keeping an eye on growth and potential problems. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilDhEMth0e-fIbhsLsoSjSnhYE75TldW-eWWFR_E1_QUaLR-24vhrRQOrHUwcnlohQ5g4m_U1cY6GM0cxnGmcKCMHo1zdtSD2gdrWAZXnIM37K9_uhKWyFvcUByTMY0d0teQ9S99Dqp7E/s1600/1970NeilCheckingWheat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="564" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilDhEMth0e-fIbhsLsoSjSnhYE75TldW-eWWFR_E1_QUaLR-24vhrRQOrHUwcnlohQ5g4m_U1cY6GM0cxnGmcKCMHo1zdtSD2gdrWAZXnIM37K9_uhKWyFvcUByTMY0d0teQ9S99Dqp7E/s640/1970NeilCheckingWheat.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Checking the wheat.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfiujT1GY5AOW_QUKV9eA-eM3SaYoqOpAF3xVH3QhFAG4IGuZcEmQxjW-C_9zNwfzp1wfe2ja-QkUKiyJioAtmAOh6pSzzowUCHrkFArrp2oi4SIVdfXIEoyqggW1aULMJ-4dFBidKb9s/s1600/1970WheatCombine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfiujT1GY5AOW_QUKV9eA-eM3SaYoqOpAF3xVH3QhFAG4IGuZcEmQxjW-C_9zNwfzp1wfe2ja-QkUKiyJioAtmAOh6pSzzowUCHrkFArrp2oi4SIVdfXIEoyqggW1aULMJ-4dFBidKb9s/s640/1970WheatCombine.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The combine harvester at work.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As for the farm house, I loved it! It was small with only two bedrooms,
but it suited us well. We had no electricity and this took some getting used
to. Water was heated outside the back door in a huge drum, with a log fire built in
underneath it. We had a young black guy who came in and cleaned the house for
us; another of his jobs was to see that the fire never went out under the water
drum! We had an elderly wood stove in the kitchen which was always kept burning; the only time
it ever went out was in the height of summer, when I could not stand the heat
any more! For those times, we bought a couple of small gas burners for cooking
the essentials. Sadly I never took any photos of the inside of the house. (I was not a blogger in those days!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXuc2cvvTLPheAVM4xFfwVJRoUS24NEzuxuFfNe-0Ov-L6_KOlHJ6Fki7yfPjJqf0f6VM1XTjv-pR5AYKpzNzqtDOUgu9lECBRiHgbmTNx9qsi9NzSseLZC5aWfLrAxaKV-25WLtBiDDc/s1600/1970FrontDoorNeilAshleyMonica.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="636" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXuc2cvvTLPheAVM4xFfwVJRoUS24NEzuxuFfNe-0Ov-L6_KOlHJ6Fki7yfPjJqf0f6VM1XTjv-pR5AYKpzNzqtDOUgu9lECBRiHgbmTNx9qsi9NzSseLZC5aWfLrAxaKV-25WLtBiDDc/s640/1970FrontDoorNeilAshleyMonica.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The only photo I have of the house is this misty looking picture of the front door with Neil sitting on the wall and his brother and fiancée, who were visiting, standing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Next door to us was the main house on the farm, where lived friends Wendy and
Neville. They had arrived a couple of years before us. They had electricity, so
we occasionally had the chance to catch up on world news on their TV! Wendy
strangely enough had also been at Arundel school, though being a year older was one class
ahead of me. It was good, though, to have someone I knew close at hand and she
had two lovely children whom she schooled on the farm. She also had a passion
for gardening, so we were lucky enough to be able to enjoy her terraced garden
which led down to the Hunyani river. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB-fElx020rgjjML6jJcQQuTY-B866eC0Dk7_9Rz8FNQTDLR8P3EyiC0cWJKtSP0NbiagX1nqiHHGEXce0Bsjpu6hhJhmUcGxw8LX9jIR6s_yGFtcG7GP546xvy-NSHzGut223AQ0TS_w/s1600/1970WendysGdnDownToHunyani.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB-fElx020rgjjML6jJcQQuTY-B866eC0Dk7_9Rz8FNQTDLR8P3EyiC0cWJKtSP0NbiagX1nqiHHGEXce0Bsjpu6hhJhmUcGxw8LX9jIR6s_yGFtcG7GP546xvy-NSHzGut223AQ0TS_w/s640/1970WendysGdnDownToHunyani.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wendy's garden looking down at the river, in a tranquil state in the dry season when this was taken.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56FdwyJl2ap1uKE9_m6yiA4L0-sR_adiVEJZzdaXVntA-fxGDyz-J3r0sZgyJM8IN46YkAmJ_3iLP-JJO8pJ8OSWfOvqny7h6L-moA3-QsV7qr2oHDh_r8hZ5sh73X86-pgAA81GPLRM/s1600/1970PandoraRockyLambChimbada.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56FdwyJl2ap1uKE9_m6yiA4L0-sR_adiVEJZzdaXVntA-fxGDyz-J3r0sZgyJM8IN46YkAmJ_3iLP-JJO8pJ8OSWfOvqny7h6L-moA3-QsV7qr2oHDh_r8hZ5sh73X86-pgAA81GPLRM/s640/1970PandoraRockyLambChimbada.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rocky my Great Dane in the garden looking after a lamb that we were bottle feeding; they became very attached to each other! We had a small herd of sheep and this poor lamb lost its mother giving birth. In the background is Neil's German shepherd Pandora. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The source of the Hunyani river is at Marandellas; it gets progressively wider until it reaches the town of Sinoia (close to our farm) and
from there it crosses into Mozambique where it becomes the Pahame river,
eventually joining up with the mighty Zambezi, the fourth largest river in
Africa. When the Hunyani was in flood, we could not get off the farm by way of the
bridge near Sinoia, so we bought a small motor boat, in which we used to cross the river.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The river in flood, full of mud, covering the bottom of Wendy's garden. That mud acted as good top soil when the water level went down again!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh_8FHAVuHiL9E-mQwf_qjdYUT1PwGzrfVnuKLcfc5CnACplISsFRApt6wx_Ke-22Z0d6iykyOZOhdZsO7TLRHAp7Iw6lM5_Z6DANb4iuCgtdwgilLl3hxszbHR7xFuMyEAw1FZcRYxYM/s1600/1970HunyaniInFloodHigher.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh_8FHAVuHiL9E-mQwf_qjdYUT1PwGzrfVnuKLcfc5CnACplISsFRApt6wx_Ke-22Z0d6iykyOZOhdZsO7TLRHAp7Iw6lM5_Z6DANb4iuCgtdwgilLl3hxszbHR7xFuMyEAw1FZcRYxYM/s640/1970HunyaniInFloodHigher.jpg" width="634" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Creeping up the garden getting ever closer to the house. It never quite made it past the final step to cause a problem in the house! </span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We
would leave our car on the farm on the opposite bank, where the owners allowed us to
build a car port. Motor boating sounds like lots of fun, but crossing a fast flowing
river, carrying a couple of weeks' groceries was not easy, as the bank on the opposite
was quite high, and of course muddy in the summer rainy season. We used to shop in Salisbury (now Harare), which was about 80 miles from the farm, so we only went there once a fortnight. To add to this,
there was always the chance of meeting up with a crocodile, of which there were
several in that area,</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> but thankfully there were no hippos</span>. I remember one night we had spent the evening in Raffingora, on the opposite side of the river, with neighbours and their young son from the next door farm. A good meal, a few drinks and a game
of darts had everyone a bit revved up! Returning home, rocking the boat seemed good fun until
the son went overboard. A few minutes of panic and he was back in the boat, but it
certainly sobered us all up very quickly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My Mum and Dad arriving for a visit. It was a shorter drive to arrive via the farm opposite us on the river, than to take the long drive around by the bridge (if it was in use!).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our carport on the opposite side of the river after a massive hail storm. Luckily for us the car was on our side of the river in the garage that night!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During this period, we both carried on with a little falconry, in which I had sound training from John Condy and which I have spoken about earlier
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-33211195462140362882015-08-13T07:14:00.000-07:002015-08-13T07:14:44.186-07:00Goodbye to my show jumping days, getting married and a move to Raffingora.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On 31st December, 1967, Neil's 21st birthday, we got engaged, with no further dates in mind at that time for getting married. He was busy working at the farm in Beatrice, 50km away from Salisbury and I loved my job and the horses, which were all stabled with my Dad.</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Engagement</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> 31 Dec 1967</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1968, my star horse Kubla Khan started contracting colic quite badly and regularly, so I was hardly able to ride him at all! We finally sent him out to the farm with Neil, where we turned him out in the paddock, hoping that the rest would bring on a recovery. Unfortunately, after what looked like some good progress, the colic returned and getting a vet to go to see him out at Beatrice was not a practical option. We therefore brought him back to my Dad's home at Borrowdale, Salisbury. It was eventually agreed by our own vet, and from a second opinion, that there had to be an internal problem and the only answer was to put him out of his misery. It took me some time before I could agree to this and when I finally did, I took him to the Vet Research Laboratory where my boss Dr John Condy finally put him to sleep and did a post-mortem. The right decision thankfully had been made; we discovered that he had a badly ulcerated intestine, which the vets suspected was due to a massive dose of worms probably when he was younger. I was utterly heartbroken that such a brilliant horse should end his days this way, but I can only say that we did at least find an explanation for the persistent colic. If the post-mortem had produced a negative result I don’t think I could have ever lived with myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kubla Kahn.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I was then pretty much without a show jumping horse, I managed to find and buy a 16.2 hands high 5 year old gelding called Chervil during 1968. He had only raced a couple of times and both times had ended up at the back of the field! This meant that I had to go back to the very beginning again and spend much time on schooling and training him as a jumper. Chervil made his debut in the low grades in 1969, showing lots of promise, but he did not have the enthusiasm that I was accustomed to from Kubla Khan and I felt this partnership would mean a slow rise back to the higher grades! </span></div>
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At the beginning of 1969, Neil moved from the farm at Beatrice to work for one of the local vets, who owned a farm at Raffingora, 140km north of Salisbury. As this was much further away than Beatrice, to see him on the odd weekend was not nearly so easy for me. We decided now that it was time to finally get married. This of course meant two major changes for me, in that I had to leave my job with Dr Condy, and my riding days became somewhat numbered, being so far from Salisbury, where equestrian activities were centred.</div>
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20 Sept 1969</div>
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Neil and Diane</div>
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Myself with my two bridesmaids.</div>
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The Bruss and the Beak families</div>
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Don Beak, Georgia Bruss, Neil, Diane, Les Bruss, Dulcie Beak.</div>
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Cheers!</div>
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Meanwhile, Chervil had been improving all the time, though slowly, but of course my time was limited for schooling and for entering shows even more so. In 1971, one of the young riders that had just gone into adult classes made me an offer for the horse. As he was by then, all I had, I turned it down. They were obviously very keen and kept phoning me. After talking it over with Dad and Neil, I put a price on Chervil that I considered to be outrageous, so I hoped then that they would not bother me any more. The next thing I knew was that I had a cheque in my hand and no horse in the stable! Chervil in fact did very little after I sold him and I never did get to see him in the higher grades as I had expected which was quite disappointing. Maybe the sale was definitely in our best interests!!</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-6960842242253962472015-07-25T06:00:00.000-07:002015-07-25T06:04:57.428-07:00Very Early Days<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Apologies I just updated a label here and it has jumped back to the end instead of at the beginning!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">I</span><span style="line-height: 150%;"> was born </span><span style="line-height: 24px;">during</span><span style="line-height: 150%;"> the latter part of the Second World War, in Poole, which is a coastal town in the English county of Dorset.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Apparently I was two weeks late arriving and my mother Dulcie told the story many times, of how, during this period, she had been put in baths of hot water, and then wrapped in hot towels to induce the birth. One of her favourite anecdotes about this treatment was the occasion when the doctor said she may as well go home for the weekend and come back on Monday. She was leaving the hospital with her suitcase when the senior matron asked her where she was going. My mother told her what the doctor had suggested and the response from the matron was “What do you think this is - a bloody hotel?” My mother duly went home and returned to the ‘hotel’ on Monday! If all this had happened nowadays, I guess that my Mum would have had a caesarean, or been given some drug to induce the birth and I would now be a few days older than I am at present! Nevertheless, it was a normal birth, and apart from the fact that I apparently looked two weeks old when born, all went well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Another of my mother’s favourite stories was that she had prayed that I would have red hair, to take after my father Don, who was in the Merchant Navy at the time. When I was born one of the first questions she asked was “has she got red hair?” and the answer was "yes". In horror, my Mum said “Oh I forgot to pray that it would be curly”; she did not have to worry, as a teenager I spent my time trying to iron my hair straight! </span></div>
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Dianehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14782670749466305626noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-2750468615597210312015-07-19T12:34:00.000-07:002015-07-26T04:29:21.504-07:00An update on my Great Dane, Rocky.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On one particular night, Dad had been going down to the stables at regular intervals to monitor a horse which was not well and on one of these occasions, while approaching the house, he saw the light of a pencil torch and someone peering through one of the windows. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> He suspected we might have a burglar!</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My parents owned two poodles and this light must have made them aware that there was someone around, so they both started yapping loudly. This, in turn, disturbed Rocky and he careered around the outside of the house in full pursuit of the prowler! My father ran up the path and shouted at Rocky, who obediently returned to his side, only for Dad to discover that he was covered in blood.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His first thought was that the prowler (if that is what it was) was carrying a knife and he had slashed at Rocky, but after washing him down we discovered no marks on him at all! By this time, it was around three in the morning and as attention to Rocky had been our priority, anyone trying to break in would have undoubtedly long since disappeared! My father thought that there was little point at that stage in phoning the police, but he proposed to report the incident in the morning, which he duly did. Later that day, the police phoned us to say that a gentleman from our area had been admitted to hospital with part of his buttocks missing! The patient said that he had been out walking in the early hours and that he had been attacked by a lion! We then knew the source of all the blood which we had washed from Rocky! Up to that time, we had always thought that Rocky was very good at sounding alarms, and had the loudest growl we had ever heard, but we had had our doubts that his "bite was as good as his bark"! He had certainly proved us wrong with this behaviour! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My Dad getting a big kiss from Rocky.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A couple of years later, when we were all away for the day, a police sergeant and a constable came to speak to my father about a car of his which had been stolen. They arrived at the house, opened the gate and Rocky, who met them on their way down the drive, happily walked along with them. They walked onto the verandah and after knocking at the front door several times, they realised there was nobody at home. They turned to leave, only to find Rocky lying in the entrance to the verandah, growling at them. Neither was brave enough to find out how serious he was and it was some several hours later when one of the stable hands came up to the house to check on something, that the situation was discovered. When the police phoned Dad the next day, they said that they felt absolute fools, but after that earlier prowler episode, I am sure that they did the right thing by not taking any chances with him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What a great dog he turned out to be and I was always very confident when he was by my side.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">See</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="color: #09a5b8; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; text-decoration: none;" target="-blank">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</a></span></span></span></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-51291637334064024442015-06-10T08:53:00.000-07:002015-06-10T08:53:09.907-07:00My Mum buys a race horse.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the end of 1963, my Mum successfully bid for a horse called Thorstone at an auction at the Borrowdale race track. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibNXvszbxBJyVid37dI22P5__RIRB_oCYkzIJOj1BzrAYEiNIxCmw5cw-strsuQdItD3-YFQcNsPENORKIhIEZ0ln2orFxUitvLi2hlqWwS0bEm6wfg2EiOQJ2Cdxv05V2uJKUHIE9W8c/s1600/K-Thorstone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibNXvszbxBJyVid37dI22P5__RIRB_oCYkzIJOj1BzrAYEiNIxCmw5cw-strsuQdItD3-YFQcNsPENORKIhIEZ0ln2orFxUitvLi2hlqWwS0bEm6wfg2EiOQJ2Cdxv05V2uJKUHIE9W8c/s640/K-Thorstone.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thorstone when we bought her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She was a large, very gangly chestnut mare who, to that date, as a two year old had shown nothing at all on the race track. Dad was convinced that as a three year old, she would fill out and with that would come the improvement he expected from her. His patience paid off and she had a number of second places, which more than paid for her keep, before finally gaining some wins.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My Mum leading in Thorstone, with jockey Charles Purchase, into the winning enclosure on 14 March 1964.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and with Jockey Ian Mackenzie-Smith 4 July 1964</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In September 1965, when there was a large amateur race meeting at Borrowdale, I partnered her, to win the main race of the day.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPHycAhmfwf3wJGGNog9zWFRutH0aWhRQQhkIvX1CYRlJMUj-tD4ncGijB8kgRPurZGxdpIOymxL9Syb4fb0lOhqFvRRi7ZUw1pmVvzChsFs43IS65k0yH1vr6Vw2KLzzalgIwWZDWa4/s1600/Thorstone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPHycAhmfwf3wJGGNog9zWFRutH0aWhRQQhkIvX1CYRlJMUj-tD4ncGijB8kgRPurZGxdpIOymxL9Syb4fb0lOhqFvRRi7ZUw1pmVvzChsFs43IS65k0yH1vr6Vw2KLzzalgIwWZDWa4/s640/Thorstone.jpg" width="430" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A proud Dad leading Thorstone and me into the winning enclosure. This win actually caused a big upset, as the horse that finished second had been very heavily backed! At least the bookmakers were happy!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had an excellent day’s racing, achieving another two wins, riding a chestnut called Significance and a dark bay called Happy Time.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKfcFyhfIEZ5TUiavuPgDRsD6lkUztgJH01vufignvI3a6AQhvbZPUwPn3xEDYQDiLSlePT3uxMHjGlmpK-VW0eETKjmGKHE0IJeHKYJGHwg096OdlAnF3OUhOMBusEWSBN-or-ENHf2c/s1600/1965SignifiganceNicholasDiane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKfcFyhfIEZ5TUiavuPgDRsD6lkUztgJH01vufignvI3a6AQhvbZPUwPn3xEDYQDiLSlePT3uxMHjGlmpK-VW0eETKjmGKHE0IJeHKYJGHwg096OdlAnF3OUhOMBusEWSBN-or-ENHf2c/s640/1965SignifiganceNicholasDiane.jpg" width="410" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Significance owned by Mrs Nicholas, trained by Errol Abrahams and ridden by myself. Won by a short head!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kubla Khan was still going from strength to strength and by this time he was well into A grade and competing in the Rhodesian team events. He had certainly taken over where Mr Smith had left off. He was an extremely strong horse and it had taken me some time to find the solution to the problem of keeping him under control! I came up with the idea of using a hackamore, which is a bitless bridle, and this just worked miracles with him. Suddenly I was in full control and he listened to every move I made. He was the only horse on which I had ever used one of these bridles and I was more than impressed with the result!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0F__gRh1QsmtrbZsXr-X52gjHLxMMMstg3e9tBo7snC8E-FFrsmjNqA2dF1dCsaT4nLtwqIELTVH_LNur98iHNirZlGof0FpjXInKztbhAxGCXfyKMYM8Qttc76koU123_TlWH3AzjS4/s1600/60sKUBLA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0F__gRh1QsmtrbZsXr-X52gjHLxMMMstg3e9tBo7snC8E-FFrsmjNqA2dF1dCsaT4nLtwqIELTVH_LNur98iHNirZlGof0FpjXInKztbhAxGCXfyKMYM8Qttc76koU123_TlWH3AzjS4/s640/60sKUBLA.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Myself, and Kubla Khan wearing a normal snaffle bit in this photo.</span></div>
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The next couple of years were a mixture of the Veterinary Research Laboratory, wild life work, falconry, riding Kubla Khan and competing in local shows, while at weekends, when possible, going to the farm to see Neil. </div>
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Myself on the farm with Neil's two dogs, Yogi on my right and Trixie under arm.</div>
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Dad was still training, enjoying it, and holding his own with a number of wins at the race track.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcTfmKz5m45G8Wgndb8XhkfcgdC2FNvg8OwWSCqswVHZneYjb2HrvUUvGUO55NARgRrGWg3g3-RoQzNqi5xbXfAu4tJcTL3b0b9LbSESTQJC8F5FFVtHf6GQ_rIgePnS2h9XJakXrHnxw/s1600/1965BudgetDadErasmus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcTfmKz5m45G8Wgndb8XhkfcgdC2FNvg8OwWSCqswVHZneYjb2HrvUUvGUO55NARgRrGWg3g3-RoQzNqi5xbXfAu4tJcTL3b0b9LbSESTQJC8F5FFVtHf6GQ_rIgePnS2h9XJakXrHnxw/s640/1965BudgetDadErasmus.jpg" width="384" /></a></div>
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Dad leading in Budget with jockey Andrew Erasmus in the saddle.</div>
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19 April 1965</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsPvh8KpuXE32uqCfLxMgTA1h5qp0BIWTHCi5_VwiCxh3KPBCLuCdss-A1lLkiM565gdeeSA3Zxp8rDgXMOSQYdT5DSrvCqH0lrjr0Grkf3uHqRAPQZ5HVvUwgUSMFSeQ7o96EEXF9n8w/s1600/1965BudgetDianeRoddyEngland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsPvh8KpuXE32uqCfLxMgTA1h5qp0BIWTHCi5_VwiCxh3KPBCLuCdss-A1lLkiM565gdeeSA3Zxp8rDgXMOSQYdT5DSrvCqH0lrjr0Grkf3uHqRAPQZ5HVvUwgUSMFSeQ7o96EEXF9n8w/s640/1965BudgetDianeRoddyEngland.jpg" width="382" /></a></div>
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Me leading in Budget with Roddy England in the saddle.</div>
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7 June 1965</div>
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Note: My Mum would have been 100 years old today, 10 June 2015. RIP.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="color: #09a5b8; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; text-decoration: none;" target="-blank">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</a></span></span></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-87128014262021465002015-05-22T06:23:00.001-07:002015-05-22T06:23:11.303-07:00My life changes.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the beginning of 1965, I left my job at Borrowdale Stud. I decided that maybe it was time I did some ‘real’ work and earned a sensible salary! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After an interview with the director of Veterinary Research Services, (who I had met through the racing world), I was offered the job of assistant/secretary to a Dr MacLeod. The man was apparently impossible to work with and was going through staff at a rate of knots, some lasting no longer than half a day! I knew with my complete lack of office experience, I was going to have my work cut out. However, if I wanted to prove my worth, I was going to have to grin and bear it! What a tyrant he turned out to be, but he quickly found that he had encountered someone who was not going to burst into tears, was willing to learn and could give back as quick an answer to his rude comments as he was likely to get! After the first month, I was called into the director’s office, given a raise in salary and told that they were more than happy with the way I was getting on. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I used to go to the race track most mornings before work to ride the race horses in training, and then in the evenings I came home to school and train the show jumpers. Meanwhile Hy-Li-Li had given birth to a filly we named Rising High.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEOGHzvCZEntxtr6GQLKFPVSPaKqWQzTcOwN9w3VJmykEGYXf7pepKC4iNUDZNleFFXsuRW-DiNwUCZyyQlHvvd7cq4dLINlC3eezbIODrMESkTLQPcXamhjRLauriYh0a1g-3Xh9CrEc/s1600/HyLiLiFoalRisingHigh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEOGHzvCZEntxtr6GQLKFPVSPaKqWQzTcOwN9w3VJmykEGYXf7pepKC4iNUDZNleFFXsuRW-DiNwUCZyyQlHvvd7cq4dLINlC3eezbIODrMESkTLQPcXamhjRLauriYh0a1g-3Xh9CrEc/s400/HyLiLiFoalRisingHigh.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Newly born.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She was not the prettiest of foals, to say the least of it, and with a very odd shaped forehead, we all wondered if she had a problem. Our fears were allayed by the time she was 6 months old and ready for weaning, as she had really been the ugly duckling who had by then turned into a swan!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0nKCrLz5vjyezJOT6mnPoFNY1cB3IHR0i3VnN7SKygvkaWP7Hxaudc3eKN7Gepc6EzBBrKyRfUaK1NgMCKWxgANz9AAti9V1otUn15ATPW2pyaVT_k7iSoQYkWLX2lOCxZFqxnLe-VWM/s1600/HyLiLiFoalHead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0nKCrLz5vjyezJOT6mnPoFNY1cB3IHR0i3VnN7SKygvkaWP7Hxaudc3eKN7Gepc6EzBBrKyRfUaK1NgMCKWxgANz9AAti9V1otUn15ATPW2pyaVT_k7iSoQYkWLX2lOCxZFqxnLe-VWM/s400/HyLiLiFoalHead.jpg" width="297" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rising High, staying close to her Mum</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUGqzqC_X6oQ4PHXuG17sUsaZdLvv0JkkgVClVGXNl0uXsM-iyVF0MkU_qn0gabLz5oEXCJqo2cwodnsbmjH18u_Ed_owiJGcdCSWrWThyphenhyphenV25uDH5AEDftI7yKClbS806upVBVAgCgQk/s1600/HyLiLiFoalGroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUGqzqC_X6oQ4PHXuG17sUsaZdLvv0JkkgVClVGXNl0uXsM-iyVF0MkU_qn0gabLz5oEXCJqo2cwodnsbmjH18u_Ed_owiJGcdCSWrWThyphenhyphenV25uDH5AEDftI7yKClbS806upVBVAgCgQk/s400/HyLiLiFoalGroom.jpg" width="292" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With one of our grooms.</span></div>
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During the year, I had an offer for my top show jumper Mr Smith. We felt we could not refuse, as he was certainly not getting any younger, and my time was limited now that I was in a full time job and did not have the freedom of the past 5 years working at the Stud. Kubla Khan was by then more than ready to take over from him in the show jumping world, and so at this stage I was back to only one show jumper. National Anthem was never going to be a jumper; he was though a great horse to hack out on and use for the occasional showing class. Hy-Li-Li was back in foal again and ready to be Mum once more.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the end of 1965, Dr MacLeod was relocated back to the UK and I was offered the job as receptionist at the Vet Research Laboratory. Wow, I had to use one of those old switchboards with plugs and wires in all directions; things have changed a lot over the years! I had become acquainted with Dr Condy who was the Wild Life Research Officer. I asked him if there was an opportunity to work as his assistant, as the current incumbent was due to leave in the not too distant future. I was told that if I was prepared to study hard, take and pass the technician’s exams, the job was mine. After nearly nine months on reception, a lot of hard work reading, learning and writing exams, I then managed to join the Wild Life department and John Condy, whose work was mainly in the field and not in the office. </span></div>
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Three young warthog bred at the Vet Research Laboratory.</div>
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The animals were well looked after and none were ever hurt in experimental work.</div>
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Working on Reception though was never dull, and one of my highlights of that time was when our Prime Minister Mr Ian Smith used to come in and collect his vaccines for the cattle on his farm. He was keen on racing and I had met him on a couple of occasions in the parade ring at Borrowdale race course. While waiting for his vaccines to be packed and ready, he generally came and chatted to me about the horses and how racing was going. What a lovely gentleman he was. I doubt if there are many Prime Ministers who were as down to earth as he was, and not a security guard in sight!</div>
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Prime Minister Ian Smith in the centre facing the camera, my Dad on the left and myself far right.</div>
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<img height="580" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAvI-96pROcbvmZtMVBQmnzGLyHGotbq7tOvpzVcS1KmcqjWZnxKmV2sXtWhiUNwqvyu0BkYlWiWPFaLY57k7Z_o8lpiNuYNopClos7HK8qJ8PPI3JmDKm2PjjGCVgqx3JfWSe3ugp30/s640/IanSmithDPS.jpg" width="640" /></div>
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Ian Smith talking to me (see arrow) at the race course. My Mum in white just in front of me</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dr John Condy was very involved in Foot and Mouth Disease work and this was particularly interesting. We collected many samples from wild life and would send them by air for testing in the UK. My main enjoyment for working with him though, was his interest in falconry, which took up a lot of after-hours training. By this time, I was trying to fit in the race track in the early morning, falconry during the lunch hour, plus a couple of evenings a week, and of course there was still Kubla Khan to exercise, and sorting out what shows I could manage to fit into my then busy schedule! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At times, there were two to three falcons on the go plus the odd goshawk, and when Dr Condy had to travel around the country, I was invariably left to look after all his birds of prey. I had an excellent training in managing and looking after the birds, and I loved every minute of it. The birds seemed very content and appeared to enjoy their training as much as we did. Falconry is a licensed sport in South Africa and the USA, but strangely enough, no licence is currently required in the UK so it seems!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfj5FjR_-LdmxtDdT7wAm3i156o7hKjABeXPEcK0bhuN-onNdSznK_tDnFc6abEeIEdcjwQjX3gI3j0WJgaOZ1hOmYr7VZVGsSVrcjXlGX0E1Mkd3vWKU5wbCpdTZDVNCrxG9sdGSAtk/s1600/FalconrySashaGrouseKillJC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfj5FjR_-LdmxtDdT7wAm3i156o7hKjABeXPEcK0bhuN-onNdSznK_tDnFc6abEeIEdcjwQjX3gI3j0WJgaOZ1hOmYr7VZVGsSVrcjXlGX0E1Mkd3vWKU5wbCpdTZDVNCrxG9sdGSAtk/s640/FalconrySashaGrouseKillJC.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">John Condy with Sasha, a peregrine falcon. She has just caught a grouse, which, as you can see, is bigger than herself!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_z8CZnoqGf8svjYoSac4fHdp2PA6D6BI_axawcQtJp8LdUtgWL09k7JVdcgJSyh03p6z934yoYVue4ZQf2voLnfTBxAM7UYS47ZcQSy0gKe0qwIeBFwtKhwKljTZ7ou0OFlwXLOERNw/s1600/FalconryZitaGoshawk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_z8CZnoqGf8svjYoSac4fHdp2PA6D6BI_axawcQtJp8LdUtgWL09k7JVdcgJSyh03p6z934yoYVue4ZQf2voLnfTBxAM7UYS47ZcQSy0gKe0qwIeBFwtKhwKljTZ7ou0OFlwXLOERNw/s640/FalconryZitaGoshawk.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
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Zita the goshawk.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-27320954845162171652015-04-18T05:44:00.000-07:002015-04-18T05:44:18.109-07:00Rocky becomes a new member of our family.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For my 21st birthday, my parents bought me a Great Dane, who we named Rocky. He had been bred by our local veterinary surgeon and at the time was about 9 months old. I went to the surgery to meet him, and found him lying happily in front of the fire with a litter of Chihuahuas playing happily on him, climbing back and forth over the top of his back and belly. He seemed more than happy to jump into my car when brought outside and we became instant companions. He was very protective and seldom left my side. When in the car, nobody dared to come close as he sounded a bit like a lion in full roar; not even my friends who he knew well would take the chance of going near the car if he was in it!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBU0qbPUkHMvJBPREKY-V1EdTLbxEd1uUacIvzwscodYRhyBuTQuYJ7-g7nKDklVYKkkSo_pa9y0Dk5rZad-iflz-cTSUzSu4A75BMAi41o7EH4IOPzWpYGzNkP_Ty80dKnd8l4WMLNP8/s1600/RockyHead1967.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBU0qbPUkHMvJBPREKY-V1EdTLbxEd1uUacIvzwscodYRhyBuTQuYJ7-g7nKDklVYKkkSo_pa9y0Dk5rZad-iflz-cTSUzSu4A75BMAi41o7EH4IOPzWpYGzNkP_Ty80dKnd8l4WMLNP8/s1600/RockyHead1967.jpg" height="578" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rocky</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the same time I changed to a double bed, as Rocky decided that there was no doubt about where he was going to sleep and that was on my bed! Very little room was left for me on my original single bed. The door to my bedroom led to the outside, so it was ideal that not only could he be by my side but he was also in a position to guard the comings and goings in the garden area surrounding the house. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHFEwk-IUba99BjuWQUZvzu8N_LDa2jAycMTOr4iIMcU3Ne5_LUQ-YmsGDNlX3w5Pa41C9wPE-onv6EfXIYLBYgMXBrAJyNGg3tkHDSb0nwAQgytPjdWn32MkqX_78yMeMYH4Q0ocf6lE/s1600/Rocky1966.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHFEwk-IUba99BjuWQUZvzu8N_LDa2jAycMTOr4iIMcU3Ne5_LUQ-YmsGDNlX3w5Pa41C9wPE-onv6EfXIYLBYgMXBrAJyNGg3tkHDSb0nwAQgytPjdWn32MkqX_78yMeMYH4Q0ocf6lE/s1600/Rocky1966.jpg" height="428" width="640" /></a></div>
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Introducing Rocky to Dusky.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvJKaxtQUdM3S5n0OOVtxlLxnoRAFZZy3HJkwrK_jgsq6UY_TWjBe2c5r8h7AmBCBMHoBlZWLu-B1iC9toVMiBkBQE6UwdaGeB2CEFxuwm_ZuBRVxcvib6OIC0LcZp86pyVXTn88JHBLk/s1600/Rocky1966A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvJKaxtQUdM3S5n0OOVtxlLxnoRAFZZy3HJkwrK_jgsq6UY_TWjBe2c5r8h7AmBCBMHoBlZWLu-B1iC9toVMiBkBQE6UwdaGeB2CEFxuwm_ZuBRVxcvib6OIC0LcZp86pyVXTn88JHBLk/s1600/Rocky1966A.jpg" height="442" width="640" /></a></div>
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Seems they are happy in each others' company</div>
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Not too long after Rocky joined the family, I went to see Neil at the farm. While on the road, I passed a family who were obviously going on holiday with their caravan, but their vehicle had broken down. On passing I realised there were small children there, so as I had Rocky in the back I reversed back to see if I could help in any way. The father asked if I could take him to the next town where he hoped to find someone who could help him, so I said jump in and I would take him with me. While talking to the parents, Rocky was unusually quiet but as soon as I had an unknown passenger in the car, a low growl started in the back. I spoke to Rocky and told him to calm down, but I saw my passenger stiffen and freeze into position. It was a trip of only about 5 miles and I have seldom seen anybody get out of a car so quickly with garbled thanks when we arrived at our destination! Hopefully the poor man found some help fairly quickly so his family could resume their travels.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMq5TqL5lo819Okttwk-tS6g20oAFYnDocYi1LOVtl9NK-gIwrRzDBjusA9__wDYeCMmcCl7a0ZxQZiXW7e1ShIqOVxfvLbTMs5ekILO_GR2GVTFD280IV3tecKF1jtbdCV_4j3kCSDVg/s1600/Rocky1967Dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMq5TqL5lo819Okttwk-tS6g20oAFYnDocYi1LOVtl9NK-gIwrRzDBjusA9__wDYeCMmcCl7a0ZxQZiXW7e1ShIqOVxfvLbTMs5ekILO_GR2GVTFD280IV3tecKF1jtbdCV_4j3kCSDVg/s1600/Rocky1967Dad.jpg" height="640" width="502" /></a></div>
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My Dad with Rocky. Dad was just on 6ft (1.83 metres) so this gives an idea of how big Rocky was. The <span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-align: left;">Pekingese</span> at the bottom is a dog that I was given when the owners returned to the UK. He also thought he was the boss and Rocky had a lot of respect for the snappy little fellow!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUERoLhv6uE4LK7AJPk44Wq8NgFhX2XecLxjEloH89WodXHwWm0NUskiQBheKsIWjfDqMwDfWddyOyWgb3a9BuEBns9yjJ-V1xqREsysoVOyd33C_OrWYfH9bsjZR5j_BluNOgUespEZk/s1600/RockyDiane1967.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUERoLhv6uE4LK7AJPk44Wq8NgFhX2XecLxjEloH89WodXHwWm0NUskiQBheKsIWjfDqMwDfWddyOyWgb3a9BuEBns9yjJ-V1xqREsysoVOyd33C_OrWYfH9bsjZR5j_BluNOgUespEZk/s1600/RockyDiane1967.jpg" height="640" width="436" /></a></div>
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Going for a ride :-)</div>
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Neil with Bits the dog that his family owned. Bits was quite a character and was frightened of thunder. He always took refuge in the bath of all places. You had to remember not to leave the washing in soak in the bath if there was a storm around!!</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="color: #09a5b8; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; text-decoration: none;" target="-blank">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</a></span></span></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-55044678283395154202015-03-03T07:37:00.000-08:002015-03-03T07:37:20.550-08:00Pietermaritzburg show (South Africa), Rhodesian Colours and turning 21 in Umtali (Rhodesia).<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That evening, we loaded the horses onto the train for Pietermaritzburg in South Africa, and set off smartly by car down the coast road, hoping to get to the Mozambique/South Africa border before it closed for the night. There were two cars; I was driving alone and the other two riders were in the other car, trying desperately to keep each other awake. I have always been lucky, in the respect that no matter how tired I am feeling, I seem to wake up as soon as I get behind the wheel of a car! This is inherited from my Dad I suspect, as he was much the same. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On arriving at the border, we encountered Customs and Immigration, housed in just a caravan - this was 1964! Upon knocking on the door, we were told that they had just closed! After much pleading and begging, we were told that if one of us went over to the South African arrival post, and they were prepared to allow us through, he would let us exit Mozambique. No mobile phones in those days! Off I went to speak to the South African border force, returning with a big grin on my face and saying that we had the all clear! </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had planned to stay with a friend in Pietermaritzburg but t</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">he other two riders were staying with friends in Durban, so we split up on arrival in Durban and I had </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">about 100 kilometres further to go from the coast</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">. After another 45 minutes drive, I was knocking on my friend's door in the early hours of the next morning. Unfortunately, the horses were also travelling overnight, so after only a couple of hours' sleep, I went off to the station to unload the Rhodesian team horses. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We had a great show and my horse Mr Smith was beaten </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">into second place </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">in the Grand Prix </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">by only a short time margin. The horses then returned to Salisbury by train, but I was faced with the very long (1600 kilometres or 1000 miles) car journey home. The little map below is quite deceptive and the distances are great. It doesn't look far, but remember it took two whole days for of us to drive in our 1960's cars from Salisbury to Lourenco Marques!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mum and Dad told me to have a rest halt and stay overnight at the hotel just over the border at Beit Bridge, the little town on the giant Limpopo river which forms the border with Rhodesia in that area. On arrival there in the evening, it was to find the place was fully booked; so I got back in the car and just kept going! I think this is probably the longest drive I have ever done in one go; in later years, I drove the 1100 kilometres from Johannesburg to Salisbury </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">many times</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> but with the extra distance from Pietermaritzburg tacked on, it was not something I would wish to repeat! On my return from South Africa and Mozambique, I was awarded Rhodesian colours for equitation, of which to this day I am extremely proud!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5V8cO86riMVjcDqnFa6lbFI_xHdGqEYw1hSK0s0YDiEN8gTSgaIYvK4_9d02JOX5ydACPfNKlYKpHAXqBEonE23gs-PUr4zMEmx6FfYlUoZPEsNMJpnvml_Dqw-Qe_Ne7WFRXK-AUomw/s1600/1964Pietermaritzburg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5V8cO86riMVjcDqnFa6lbFI_xHdGqEYw1hSK0s0YDiEN8gTSgaIYvK4_9d02JOX5ydACPfNKlYKpHAXqBEonE23gs-PUr4zMEmx6FfYlUoZPEsNMJpnvml_Dqw-Qe_Ne7WFRXK-AUomw/s1600/1964Pietermaritzburg.jpg" height="320" width="272" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Meanwhile, after his good showing in Pietermaritzburg, Kubla Khan was going from strength to strength. He was showing every promise that he would soon be competing with Mr Smith as my top shop jumper. At the beginning of the 1964 season, he started winning event after event in the D (lowest at that time) grade, and by halfway through the year, he had enough points to be well up into C Grade. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The beautiful scenery in the background at Umtali, on Rhodesia's eastern border with Mozambique.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At Umtali Show, towards the end of his first season, he jumped brilliantly and I knew that with the points he had gained there, he was sure to be starting his second season in B Grade.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJuleRqrXut-Qxvsfmad7tSw8sYidEid76swv_D3arqkBUUERTmy2V0EPRuGIThUTGC2tIM3CYYxynTmPIVo9y0rsyMIe6xhg7XeQHjatSikOZhvxWu-FWrv2qmLNtsoGm3fc2PycE0B0/s1600/60KublaUmtaliShow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJuleRqrXut-Qxvsfmad7tSw8sYidEid76swv_D3arqkBUUERTmy2V0EPRuGIThUTGC2tIM3CYYxynTmPIVo9y0rsyMIe6xhg7XeQHjatSikOZhvxWu-FWrv2qmLNtsoGm3fc2PycE0B0/s1600/60KublaUmtaliShow.jpg" height="640" width="592" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I only wore my pink hunting jacket for special events!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kubla Khan and myself collecting a prize.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Umtali was a success all round and while there I celebrated my 21st birthday. A friend, Neil, whom I knew from both horse racing and show jumping took me across the border into Mozambique for dinner. There is nothing to beat Mozambique prawns and Portuguese wine and we celebrated well into the night! This was the start of a long friendship and only after five months of going out together, did I discover that he was almost 5 years younger than me! He was in fact still at school at the time, and only left there at the end of that year to go farming with one of my father’s race horse owners and a close family friend. By this time, age did not come into the equation and we continued to be constant companions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Neil and myself 1964/5. Not sure where we where! Possibly at Mermaids Pool, once a very popular resort just outside Salisbury in the good old days!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="color: #09a5b8; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; text-decoration: none;" target="-blank">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</a></span></span></span></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-51888770707500008822015-02-11T13:23:00.000-08:002015-02-11T13:23:29.055-08:00A trip to Lourenço Marques as part of the Rhodesian team.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Training my new horse Kubla Khan was an absolute pleasure, and he seemed to enjoy it as much as I did! Right from the start I realised his potential, and he had the biggest heart of any horse I had owned so far; he was ready to try anything, regardless of what I asked of him. He was really very special and I was so looking forward to his first jumping events! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the end of the show jumping season in 1963, the final show was at Umtali near the Mozambique border and I had decided beforehand that this was to be Hy-Li-Li’s last competition. As a result of the points she had won to that date, she had been upgraded to grade C and I knew that she would not be able to cope with the higher fences and stiffer competition. She of course surprised us all by winning everything in which she had been entered, but I knew in my heart that she was really at her limit. I did not change my mind, so she retired in glory, as did Dusky, after his Horse of the Year show success. It was decided that she would return for a couple of months to Jack Quinton’s (from whom we had originally bought her) where he would cover her with his newly imported stallion.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOUj7B9UqfwVE5YtHlmamjYKTr0TmF6d-e3zgXyKxeZ4X25-_UeqspU7VN8PIWJTPqU_mi9T-WVK7oemDiqmJqhuz7W1U2GM6BXL98AEnvNpQlO3nZqnXNvOvhDZw3DM3C0eHM99_8Mpg/s1600/1964HyliliUmtaliPost.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOUj7B9UqfwVE5YtHlmamjYKTr0TmF6d-e3zgXyKxeZ4X25-_UeqspU7VN8PIWJTPqU_mi9T-WVK7oemDiqmJqhuz7W1U2GM6BXL98AEnvNpQlO3nZqnXNvOvhDZw3DM3C0eHM99_8Mpg/s1600/1964HyliliUmtaliPost.jpg" height="137" width="200" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Results for Hy-li-li in the Umtali post. (The Hill Billy Team had nothing to do with me!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1964, I was again picked to jump for Rhodesia (against Mozambique and South Africa) with my horse Mr Smith; my friend Gail Hall who had a brilliant little horse called Royal Amber, was also picked for the team. Firstly in Salisbury at the Glamis Grounds, followed a few weeks later in Lourenço Marques (LM) [since Mozambique's independence, now called Maputo]. We had been beaten by South Africa in Salisbury, but left for LM with a feeling that we could do better! Mr Smith had thankfully not let the side down and we had jumped two clear rounds - photo below.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpx84IQQRrZgY61Lq7CL1bJElPGijT2Eelh0SvittfFSjdDSLDcnza4snKuKVMCmUk4XxchUssV4A2dPgGadG7cFHKalFHAfGaaTOHe2QhcCHBInHYsAoVqiBrk7Ma3P2JMkYNDL_nrg/s1600/1964GlamisTeam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpx84IQQRrZgY61Lq7CL1bJElPGijT2Eelh0SvittfFSjdDSLDcnza4snKuKVMCmUk4XxchUssV4A2dPgGadG7cFHKalFHAfGaaTOHe2QhcCHBInHYsAoVqiBrk7Ma3P2JMkYNDL_nrg/s1600/1964GlamisTeam.jpg" height="545" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The same team to travel to LM.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Gilbert Fischer, Gail Hall, Angela Edwards and myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5c_jTSwVA_ufa_hAZybIRao1RpJjSApCl-w8LaUe4jp7qSvsVQRu97_xJkHAE_LrhJvAEXtz3dLhyphenhyphenUv5TDX9yNQjwHURzkvhDO_3OQMeyvfhRftJSMARGoFiYYtEJGnxK6oPMBAmFBA/s1600/1964MrSmithTeam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5c_jTSwVA_ufa_hAZybIRao1RpJjSApCl-w8LaUe4jp7qSvsVQRu97_xJkHAE_LrhJvAEXtz3dLhyphenhyphenUv5TDX9yNQjwHURzkvhDO_3OQMeyvfhRftJSMARGoFiYYtEJGnxK6oPMBAmFBA/s1600/1964MrSmithTeam.jpg" height="386" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Gail and I set off on the two-day drive from Salisbury to LM, (almost 1,300 km or 800 miles). Cars then aren't what they are now! I remember stopping overnight at a little village called Groblersdal in South Africa and it was absolutely freezing! We had both been in bed for a while when I heard Gail quietly ask me if I was still awake. I said yes, I was far too cold to sleep so we both got up and rummaged around for some extra bedding and clothes. By 04h00 we had both reached a state where we could no longer endure the cold; we packed up, climbed in the car and made our way to the Mozambique border. On arrival in LM, the language problem began -they speak Portuguese- while asking directions and this set us both off giggling like two young schoolgirls. We finally found the stables, managed to see that the horses were comfortable and eventually we tracked down our hotel. We discovered that the Rhodesian team was in one hotel and the South African team in another; this did not go down well with Gail, who was quite keen at the time on a member of their team!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPQ-ngL03Gpmx5AgdQmt5NgkWwE0tjct6OUo50Jc71x5buLk4u9rhHE7nDtEpVLHaTK0n_K8Oe_zsmf98aCS2RUTYHGmD1ToA72LNW_GZSron9XXjiPX50FvNITMcTAP293IkolTYYeYk/s1600/1964MrSmithLM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPQ-ngL03Gpmx5AgdQmt5NgkWwE0tjct6OUo50Jc71x5buLk4u9rhHE7nDtEpVLHaTK0n_K8Oe_zsmf98aCS2RUTYHGmD1ToA72LNW_GZSron9XXjiPX50FvNITMcTAP293IkolTYYeYk/s1600/1964MrSmithLM.jpg" height="640" width="273" /></a></span></div>
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As we had been the first riders to arrive, on our first night Gail and I went off to find a restaurant at the coast where we could get some dinner. We discovered a little Chinese restaurant which looked good, so this is where we made our stop. We were highly impressed with our waiter, who was in fact half Chinese and half Irish, his mother being the Irish blood! We had never seen a duck carved so expertly with chop sticks before and we were soon chatting away to him and telling him about the horses and the show. Afterwards, he invited us both to go downstairs to see his tropical fish collection in the cellar. It was a very impressive sight, the room full of fish tanks stocked with exotic species, and he told us this made his pocket money, as he exported such fish all over the world. The evening stretched out much longer than planned but we finally said we had to go as we had horses to attend to early the next day!</div>
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Having seen to the horses and exercised them early the next morning, I returned to the hotel to discover the largest bunch of flowers I have ever seen in my life, waiting for me on the bed! Our Chinese friend from the night before had sent them; we never did get back to the restaurant, but I did at least find the phone number, so I could relay my thanks.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT72XPddKS6tNYSq90MakMjuLIQBkAsZzUBNSRoWe33p70PJ0NYGL_qdln_JX1Pn_uUERlzwqu6-LZ2-YwNCFE5J5n72y81WyNohBtLoluRkQuy1F1JQONAltImPBIA_s50_RK7lQxXmk/s1600/1964MrSmithLMb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT72XPddKS6tNYSq90MakMjuLIQBkAsZzUBNSRoWe33p70PJ0NYGL_qdln_JX1Pn_uUERlzwqu6-LZ2-YwNCFE5J5n72y81WyNohBtLoluRkQuy1F1JQONAltImPBIA_s50_RK7lQxXmk/s1600/1964MrSmithLMb.jpg" height="326" width="400" /></a></div>
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Myself and Mr Smith</div>
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We were in LM for almost two weeks, and although I had no major single wins, I managed to cover expenses with my prize money. Rhodesia did win the team event however, beating our main rivals South Africa into second place. We had a great time, with many parties along the way! Suddenly it was time to leave for home! Gail was returning to Salisbury with friends, and I had planned to go on to the Pietermaritzburg show in South Africa, as did a couple of other Rhodesian team members. The local press gave us recognition, as you can see below.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI3JohybuIRwSVdXLG59-293fbEfodIT2BMwEHr7oLUtiwOuz_q0x8YMXuTixs_Fa1WsJYMP3JMKYBBP0QoTUpefOMOfVy2jzQ34pd8wePgLlaFI5qrA-Rf60ALKfKA9LptF_kdvUxiZQ/s1600/1964MrSmithLMteamA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI3JohybuIRwSVdXLG59-293fbEfodIT2BMwEHr7oLUtiwOuz_q0x8YMXuTixs_Fa1WsJYMP3JMKYBBP0QoTUpefOMOfVy2jzQ34pd8wePgLlaFI5qrA-Rf60ALKfKA9LptF_kdvUxiZQ/s1600/1964MrSmithLMteamA.jpg" height="280" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-15200835311440408902015-01-20T07:13:00.000-08:002015-01-20T07:13:36.472-08:00The early sixties and nearly the end of my riding career.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During 1962, I had entered National
Anthem in a few small shows, and although he seemed to enjoy his jumping, he
really did not show very much potential! Nevertheless, he won a few showing classes, but as my interest was
mainly in show jumping, I am afraid I did not have the patience or the time to
spend hours schooling him at dressage and showing in general. I did enjoy riding him though and Dad kept
him fit and in basic training for me with the string of race horses he was training each
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">National Anthem above and below.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In April 1963, my riding career almost came to an end; when riding a horse called Performance, trained by Jack Perry, in the Rhodesian Grand National, we hit the ground harder than planned at the very first fence! On the approach, we had a horse on either side of us; both of these horses jumped at an angle towards us, squeezing us out, right in front of the fence. We fell heavily and Performance sadly broke his back and was put out of his misery there and then on the race course. I was a little luckier, also with a broken back, but I woke up several days later in hospital in Salisbury. The break was high between the shoulder blades, and finally after a period I was back on my feet again, but with strict instructions that I was not to consider getting on a horse again for at least six months, and it would probably be closer to twelve months. Only after the six month check-up would I know if I could ride again!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To tell me that I cannot do something is like waving a red rag to a bull, and although I have to admit to some pain early on, I was back at work and riding within three months. At my six month check-up, the surgeon said he was pleasantly surprised at how well my back was doing and that the muscles were well built up and giving lots of support. If I liked, I could go out for the occasional quiet hack once more!! I never did admit to him that I had been riding for the past three months and not just hacking, but riding work and show jumping as well! I shudder now at the thought of what I did; if I had taken another tumble during the healing process I could well have spent the remainder of my days in a wheelchair.</span></div>
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Back at work; my boss Jack Perry, with All's Fair, a filly imported from the U.K. </div>
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It was decided during 1963 that Jewel’s Reward would be better schooled and trained to see if he was any good for show jumping. The saying is ‘horses for courses’ and that was exactly what the story was so far as Jewel’s Reward was concerned. At Marandellas, he was a flying machine (see previous post), but at Borrowdale, Salisbury's main race course, he showed little interest at all. So far as I remember, he ran one second place at Borrowdale, in a field of useless horses! He seemed to enjoy schooling, and I have to admit that I probably enjoyed working with him so far as dressage was concerned, more than any horse I had owned to that date. He was intelligent and although not very big, being about the same height as Hy-Li-Li, he was well muscled and showed great promise. In July 1963, he won Champion Hack, a local horse show event where quality and good manners of the horse are particularly important. He behaved like a perfect gentleman in the ring. Soon after, he won his first show jumping event, which was a speed event that he flew around, being seconds faster than any other horse in his class! I knew that he was never going to be an outstanding show jumper, his small size being against him, but I could see lots of fun in the future especially where speed events were concerned!</div>
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Jewel's Reward with me in training,</div>
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During 1963, another horse took my eye, one which had been brought up from Johannesburg by one of the other trainers. His name was Kubla Khan, and he looked to me as if he would make the perfect show jumper, if he had the right temperament! He was beautifully bred, being by Abadan II out of Neural, which made him a half-brother to Migraine, the filly that won the famous Durban July race in the 1950's. I spoke to the trainer and owner, and they promised me if, and when, he came up for sale, I would get first option to buy him! This in fact happened the same year, as he was not showing any promise on the track. So Kubla Khan joined my string of horses right in the middle of the show jumping season! </div>
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Kubla Khan.</div>
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It was decided that as he was racing fit and I had little time to school him, Dad would keep him in training temporarily, and if there were any races for which he looked suitable, Dad would give him a run. I think this was an unpopular decision with the previous owners, but, as no agreements not to race him had been made, there was little they could do. The decision, I suspect, was even more unpopular when Kubla Khan won a race just at the end of the show jumping season and I was ready to start schooling him! Again I think that my Dad’s training principle of treating each horse as a separate animal paid off, and Kubla Khan retired from racing on a winning streak!</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kubla Khan took to show jumping like a fish to water; he would tackle anything and was possibly turning out to be the best horse I had ever owned!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">See</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="color: #09a5b8; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; text-decoration: none;" target="-blank">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</a></span></span></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-34026988583269295732014-10-30T11:19:00.001-07:002014-10-30T11:19:32.990-07:00Not feeling well, but a fabulous day's racing for my Dad!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On our return to Rhodesia from the 1962 Beira show, we had a few days to settle the horses down and relax, before we were off again, this time to the Marandellas Agricultural Show. Marandellas is a town about 50 miles east of Salisbury.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On arrival, I was not feeling too well, but it was an important show, so I pulled myself together and both Hy-Li-Li and ‘Smith' jumped well throughout. On the final day and the main event, the Grand Prix, I remember walking the course wondering what I was doing there, as I felt absolutely terrible! I can only think what a terrific horse Mr Smith must have been; I did nothing at all to help him in the event and still we managed third place, beaten only in the jump-off against the clock. I feel sure if he had been helped along the way, we could probably have notched up a Grand Prix win. Anyway, we had done our best and put the 'if only' thoughts out of our heads! On the way back home in the car, horsebox behind, Mum said she realised how bad I must be feeling, as she had never known me to drive so slowly (!) and the next morning I woke up to find myself covered with spots! The doctor duly made a house call and I was told that I had chicken pox. I was apparently at an age where I would probably get it quite badly and bed rest was the only answer. It took a good ten days for me to feel like going back to work and to this day I still have not got 100% hearing in my right ear, due to the effects of the illness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mr Smith 3rd place at 1962 Marandellas show.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During my time in bed, I managed to do some theory work, as I was due to take my British Horse Society Pony Club 'A test' at the end of September. This "top of the range" theory and practical test covers, amongst other things, anatomy, stable management, course designing, coaching, care of the horse, saddlery and paddocking, apart from all the riding and horsemanship aspects. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At that time, there had only been one person who had taken, and passed the 'A Certificate' in Rhodesia, so I was more than determined that I would make the grade and add my name to the pass list! This I managed to do, with one other member of the Pony Club, so two more passes were added to the list!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Collecting the cup for a Pony Club Team event, for which I was the team captain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In November, a young jockey named Dennis was visiting from South Africa; he'd previously ridden a few times for my Dad. He travelled with Dad and I and the two horses, Lady Heath and Jewel’s Reward, to a race meeting in Marandellas.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lady Heath was in the first race, an amateur hurdle and due to be ridden by me. The second race a five furlong sprint and Jewel’s Reward was to be ridden by Ivan, one of the Rhodesian jockeys. Dennis was booked to ride him again in the last race over six furlongs. What a day it proved for my Dad, who was triumphant with three winners from two horses! See the "Salisbury Herald" newspaper report below.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On our arrival home, I remember Mum coming out and asking how we had got on. Dennis, with a very long and dismal face, said “well, Diane won the first one with Lady Heath”, and after a long pause , with Mum saying how pleased she was, he went on, “Ivan won the second race on Jewel’s Reward”. Mum said that was wonderful, then Dennis, laughing out loud, said “and I won the last race on him as well”. Mum was quite overjoyed by this and we all went indoors to celebrate, after seeing the horses fed and settled in their stables. It was really quite an achievement. Two races for a horse in one day was an unusual occurrence, even in those days, but now it is unheard of. I am pleased to say that Jewel's Reward suffered no ill effects from the extra exercise and in fact he came back home looking all ready to race again!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2BfGa1Kh3rFNgu6tw9D0WnmVXyOXc4dx-qbVV7Xtnln1IRzgrcF7WjNQtT_pGOiu1vWdpII4EvjHSEtLE31BZJk6Ov2UhC7T7pnEp7tmBOftyhIaXdMyEWBz3O5d1zwnIJXwpdffxppE/s1600/A1962JewelsReward2wins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2BfGa1Kh3rFNgu6tw9D0WnmVXyOXc4dx-qbVV7Xtnln1IRzgrcF7WjNQtT_pGOiu1vWdpII4EvjHSEtLE31BZJk6Ov2UhC7T7pnEp7tmBOftyhIaXdMyEWBz3O5d1zwnIJXwpdffxppE/s1600/A1962JewelsReward2wins.jpg" height="524" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span></span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-90969439012145407812014-10-16T10:23:00.000-07:002014-10-16T10:23:38.304-07:00A new show jumper and an amazing trip to Beira in Mozambique.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sorry about the long break but time is not always on my side!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In July 1962, the gelding ‘Mr Smith’ joined my show jumping string. We had bought him just before the Sinoia Show and the show jumping Derby that month, with the understanding that we would only take him over after the event. David Stubbs from South Africa had been booked by the seller to come up to Rhodesia for the show to ride him. To my delight, he won the Derby, but this of course made life all the more difficult for me, as I had to prove that I was able to ride him equally well! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Only one month later, 'Mr Smith' and I entered the six-bar event at Salisbury Show. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Six-bar" means a competition where riders jump six fences set in a straight line. The fences are equally spaced, the first fence being the lowest and each subsequent fence is higher than the one before. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was over-the-moon when we won the event, clearing just over six feet on the final fence.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This was certainly the highest fence that I had yet experienced!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6LRKnXe0-0FFsqW7paYpaUFy2s2kwkNxQJkd05qNSAc7iigdj0bBrcSl4bPFilYmW0oIZtOR1HGFN8BSSZ8aImv8hGDzF_PSuBmABj5x4KrJhPAYPjmAs0iYG4u8kwDQ0pl3QmMq8qQ4/s1600/1961MrSmith6Bar800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6LRKnXe0-0FFsqW7paYpaUFy2s2kwkNxQJkd05qNSAc7iigdj0bBrcSl4bPFilYmW0oIZtOR1HGFN8BSSZ8aImv8hGDzF_PSuBmABj5x4KrJhPAYPjmAs0iYG4u8kwDQ0pl3QmMq8qQ4/s1600/1961MrSmith6Bar800.jpg" height="640" width="468" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mr Smith and myself winning the 6 Bar event.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />In August, I was more than proud and pleased to be selected to jump for the Rhodesian team at the week-long International show in Beira, Mozambique. All expenses would be paid for my travel and two horses, Hy-Li-Li and Mr Smith. Mum said that she would like to come with me; naturally, she would pay for herself. The Mozambique authorities objected to that idea; they generously insisted that Mum's expenses would be settled as well!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrkW3bh2ipW96WFOnnwS7NX5uAvN4tjpaieEwTeJgmB_I_p9t_LvxYAogdNJUsmWGzA6JwtAHLRukIhfrvY2JbhZfkN89XytjNyUlCHoEsS1rqVjDJo5B8UWyRlQou5QpR-DJn5GTYu4/s1600/1961MrSmithWall800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrkW3bh2ipW96WFOnnwS7NX5uAvN4tjpaieEwTeJgmB_I_p9t_LvxYAogdNJUsmWGzA6JwtAHLRukIhfrvY2JbhZfkN89XytjNyUlCHoEsS1rqVjDJo5B8UWyRlQou5QpR-DJn5GTYu4/s1600/1961MrSmithWall800.jpg" height="466" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mr Smith jumping the wall in another event at Salisbury show.</span></div>
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<br />We had the most amazing trip and a show that I will certainly never forget, even though we had no wins and only places in each event. The Portuguese people were fantastic hosts and </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">our</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> every whim seemed to be catered for! On arrival, we discovered that all the horses had been unloaded from the train they had travelled down on, and put into spacious stables at the army base. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our hotel rooms were ready and waiting and we were taken on a trip to see the arena that had been set up for the show. It was a large indoor stadium and the floor had been laid with thick rubber matting that had been covered with sand. This was a first for the Rhodesian team, as none of us had ever competed indoors before and I suspect it may have been a first for the South Africans as well. Three countries would be competing, Rhodesia, South Africa and Mozambique. Our first reaction was how the horses would respond to being inside, with a large crowd very close by. We need not have worried, as they all just took it in their stride, other than on one occasion which I will mention in a moment.<br /><br />The first two days of the show went well and ‘Smith’ managed a fourth and a fifth place. Hy-Li-Li became the favourite of the crowd and, it seemed, of the judges as well; each time she appeared, everyone was chanting a chorus of ‘Hy-Lee-Lee, Hy-Lee-Lee’!! She obviously enjoyed all of this and pranced and bucked like she never had before, showing off to every one’s delight. In one event, where she finished seventh, she was suddenly called forward at the prize giving as in seventh place. In every other event during the whole show, only 6 places were in the line up; proof that that she was loved by the judges and the crowd too! On the third and fourth days, we were all taken off for a two day safari in the large game reserve close by, while our horses were well looked after by the army stable hands. Mum was included in this trip which a great experience as we saw masses of game including the big five of lion, elephant, rhinoceros, buffalo and leopard!<br /><br />On our return to Beira, we had the main event of the team show jumping and this fell on my nineteenth birthday! All the horses jumped well, but South Africa outstripped us when jumping against the clock, so the final result was South Africa first, Rhodesia second and Mozambique third. We all went in for the final prize giving, myself on Mr Smith who had been the perfect gentleman throughout the show. After the team prizes had been presented, we were all asked to stay in our places for a special presentation. Two of the largest bouquets of flowers I had ever seen were brought out and presented, one to myself and the other to Maria Fernandes of the Mozambique team. The brass band then struck up very loudly with 'Happy Birthday' which sent most of the horses into complete turmoil, ‘Smith', included, which was all the more difficult for me to control because of the large bouquet in my arms! With no damage done and no riders on the ground, we all managed to regain control, cantering slowly around the arena before making our way out. I discovered afterwards it was Maria’s 19th birthday as well, and she was as surprised as I was by the whole presentation!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A Mozambique magazine featured a 7 page article on the whole event, of which page one, plus a photo you can see below. I apologise for the quality of the images, but they did not photocopy well!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlMsgk4I1OV53mhvM8PdERup5ITEJeJyQpiP3ReRZz_oY-d8iFnPgZIdK_96OMiBqjIVmXEOi4sxU2EeWvipQ3YFvUNqvzgB0Q02QJ7oZIPX89TMYQrriVOKhvHZC5RiOtRk8ZEuXdEgs/s1600/1962BeiraMagazine500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlMsgk4I1OV53mhvM8PdERup5ITEJeJyQpiP3ReRZz_oY-d8iFnPgZIdK_96OMiBqjIVmXEOi4sxU2EeWvipQ3YFvUNqvzgB0Q02QJ7oZIPX89TMYQrriVOKhvHZC5RiOtRk8ZEuXdEgs/s1600/1962BeiraMagazine500.jpg" height="400" width="292" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Page 1 of the article. The person who sent it to us marked it all with red arrows and underlining.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVSIvu9Yzihado1trydVwjpULEzIDXMaFVMKlX0j2MLvjdLbuztCxs_XYUKIjMd7me67qULfBL8poN6zSzKkvNGPGoFpLu07NSAbTZV9vewNIqH6c7nqdVzfWc5xCGDRF9w4JKRiBM5eY/s1600/1962BeiraMagazineSmith500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVSIvu9Yzihado1trydVwjpULEzIDXMaFVMKlX0j2MLvjdLbuztCxs_XYUKIjMd7me67qULfBL8poN6zSzKkvNGPGoFpLu07NSAbTZV9vewNIqH6c7nqdVzfWc5xCGDRF9w4JKRiBM5eY/s1600/1962BeiraMagazineSmith500.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Trying to hold on to flowers and Mr Smith when the band broke out with Happy Birthday!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQCZnvaK3sixzmFguexmwnMMK5DJplenI1dI8f0ijUSdR9LhYDIRQKKkb-uHmAn9_CxFeCGpN0rLX6FcUa6HufuhQTrFtVBiijjBG5XxjVyxWRlJ0xlM0D6ETq20L9e0_vtPRBsh7yQjM/s1600/1961MrSmithTripelBar800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQCZnvaK3sixzmFguexmwnMMK5DJplenI1dI8f0ijUSdR9LhYDIRQKKkb-uHmAn9_CxFeCGpN0rLX6FcUa6HufuhQTrFtVBiijjBG5XxjVyxWRlJ0xlM0D6ETq20L9e0_vtPRBsh7yQjM/s1600/1961MrSmithTripelBar800.jpg" height="462" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mr Smith and myself again at Salisbury Show and below.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIU2aHYb-rT_EMJph0W4Z_CerSfkEOoa319fgrQ6VGGARQMpliAD3RpoDjaXAheDfGhtlV_zBgdKiSVDSSXrKlnJW2W5cRzf0LopFC98tk67SGiyycboeaixKGX7r0xR7io47nJEGiUo/s1600/1961MrSmithWater800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIU2aHYb-rT_EMJph0W4Z_CerSfkEOoa319fgrQ6VGGARQMpliAD3RpoDjaXAheDfGhtlV_zBgdKiSVDSSXrKlnJW2W5cRzf0LopFC98tk67SGiyycboeaixKGX7r0xR7io47nJEGiUo/s1600/1961MrSmithWater800.jpg" height="462" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span></span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="color: #09a5b8; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; text-decoration: none;" target="-blank">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</a></span></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-41058068066672904382014-03-30T06:16:00.000-07:002018-11-16T12:00:42.539-08:00Selling a couple of my horses and Dad takes out his licence as a racehorse trainer.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">At the beginning of 1961, the Mozambique Army approached me with an offer to buy Kismet from me; we were not really getting on that well together and the offer was a good one, so I accepted it and thus the stable shrunk to three horses. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Only a few weeks later, our stable number reverted to four horses, when my boss, Bill Wakefield, offered me his stallion National Anthem, who had unfortunately proved to be sterile. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLMkxJNrdQWCOUPBMNFSQiNz6WW3z_mXvwU_VIopeiONPAaqT9vYuX1Ia11jkZiq6EClTqEhdxWq0IqZkxc62Oir-eXOHrtC3tebj4xNAcNyN8fQ9fQTGEwtjGgYWfPqi7CgqCDLY6Jg4/s1600/K-National+Anthem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="508" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLMkxJNrdQWCOUPBMNFSQiNz6WW3z_mXvwU_VIopeiONPAaqT9vYuX1Ia11jkZiq6EClTqEhdxWq0IqZkxc62Oir-eXOHrtC3tebj4xNAcNyN8fQ9fQTGEwtjGgYWfPqi7CgqCDLY6Jg4/s1600/K-National+Anthem.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">National Anthem had been imported from the United Kingdom to stand at Borrowdale Stud. He had been second in the Derby Trial Stakes in the UK and had an impressive blood line. With the Derby winner Straight Deal as his sire and his great grand sire being Gainsborough, he would have improved the Rhodesian blood line no end, but sadly this was not to be. He was a very grand looking dappled grey of 16.3 hands high, with an amazing temperament for a stallion. He had not been ridden for some years, so training meant starting again at square one and I spent many hours with him in basic dressage and over small fences. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">National Anthem and myself in mid air over a fence.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Rustler, meanwhile, was proving to be a real handful and although we had a few wins along the way, I was fairly certain that he was never going to become anything other than average, whilst also causing me some dramatic surprises!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We were entered in one cross country event, where having discussed the water jump into a dam with various riders, it was decided that the sensible thing to do was take the first fence very gently, then ride around the shallow edge of the dam to take the second fence, out of the dam on the other side. Rustler, unfortunately, had his own ideas and, with some enthusiastic fly jumping approached the first fence. While I was trying desperately to slow him down, he took off for the jump with a huge leap that carried us right into the middle of the dam at its deepest point! He was unable to keep his footing with the speed we were travelling and the inevitable happened; we somersaulted in the water. I was unable to hold on to the reins, and when I surfaced, blowing out jets of water, I saw him back on dry land, in a flat gallop, disappearing into the distance! Fortunately, neither of us suffered any serious damage, but it really was the beginning of the end! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A few weeks later, we found a buyer who was convinced they could do better with Rustler than I could! I don’t ever remember seeing Rustler in the show ring again from that day on!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">By 1962, Dad’s interest in horse racing had developed to the extent that he was keen to take out a trainer’s licence and start training race horses himself. A property on the Dombashawa Road in Borrowdale (a suburb of Salisbury) was up for rent, and it had a training yard of twelve stables, a tack room and a feed room, plus plenty of accommodation for the stable hands. It also had a small but adequate size training track, so a deal was struck and we rented out our existing house on the Lomagundi Rd and made the move to Borrowdale. It certainly suited me much better, as my drive to work was cut by half the distance!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Hy-Li-Li and myself in a cross country event. This time we stayed together, not as I did with Rustler in my narrative above!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The first two horses to move into our new yard, besides Dusky, National Anthem and Hy-Li-Li were Lady Heath and Jewel’s Reward. Lady Heath was a seasoned hurdler and Jewel’s Reward was a two year old that had been home bred and was still owned by the breeder. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In May that year, Lady Heath became my Dad’s first winner, when, with me riding, she won an amateur hurdle race at Marandellas, a small town not far away. Dad then found owners who were prepared to give him a chance with their horses and so he filled the stables up with flat race horses; mainly ones, I might add, that had been rejected by other trainers as being unsuccessful! Because he trained each horse as an individual and not using bulk training, he had a certain amount of unexpected success with these rejects. Unexpected it was to other people, but not really to us, as my Dad was very committed to this new activity. The stable expanded again and another 6 stables were built at the back, soon to be filled with new prospects!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Myself leading Rear Guard into the winner's enclosure for my Dad (who is holding my handbag for me!). The owner, Jack Quinton, was absent on that day, so the honour went to me!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span></span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="https://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200"></div>
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<span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">See</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="color: #09a5b8; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; text-decoration: none;" target="-blank">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</a></span></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-22147705904729046662014-03-09T05:45:00.001-07:002014-03-09T06:57:42.202-07:00Another horse for show jumping and starting work at Borrowdale Stud.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In August 1959, I took Hy-Li-Li to her first amateur race meeting at Gatooma, where she won both the first sprint of the day over 4 furlongs and the final race of the day over 6 furlongs!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYuunzbRFhsHfkq2T6RsPCxr7MEmaTVzCCgMRIfyhyphenhyphentwiu3KVwqkUp14l4blHhT_c8E9cGsfkI8WYmDSGqEHjRCIXyYOZnc9dFdiiqf9E45MwWuSOc_jwUZMpzAfQxQkH9W5fdWoeTjw/s1600/1961HyLiLiDianeNo3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYuunzbRFhsHfkq2T6RsPCxr7MEmaTVzCCgMRIfyhyphenhyphentwiu3KVwqkUp14l4blHhT_c8E9cGsfkI8WYmDSGqEHjRCIXyYOZnc9dFdiiqf9E45MwWuSOc_jwUZMpzAfQxQkH9W5fdWoeTjw/s1600/1961HyLiLiDianeNo3.jpg" height="536" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Diane at an amateur race meeting on Hy-Li-Li</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">All three of my horses were well and truly coming up to expectations and doing their best. It was not long after this, that I was out exercising Kismet and just on the last stretch home, we walked through a large puddle of water. I had forgotten Kismet’s love of water and he liked nothing better than to have the sprays watering his paddock, so he could just keep walking over the top of them. He also was the only horse I ever knew who, if he had a big enough trough to drink from, would put his head right in up to his eyes. I was digressing - the end result of the puddle incident was that he caught me completely unawares and dropped straight into it, to try and roll - rider, saddle and all! He came out of it with a slight scratch on his knee, but I ended up with a broken elbow! This was a huge setback for me, as this time there was no plaster for support and I was in a sling for close on 6 weeks. I was told that there had to be movement and controlled exercise during the healing process, as it was thought it may set in a locked position otherwise. I might add here that when I got home, my Mum was frantic about the scratch on Kismet's knee and cold compresses were applied to alleviate</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> any swelling. It was only the next day that anyone believed that I had damaged my elbow and so was taken off for x-rays!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While still in a sling and feeling sorry for myself, Dad asked me one day if I would like to help him collect some horses that had arrived at the railway station. There were seven race mares imported from the United Kingdom; initially they were all for racing and later they would be put to stud to bring in some new and excellent blood lines as part of the country's breeding programme. They were consigned to Borrowdale Stud (Borrowdale is a suburb of Salisbury), which comprised a large racing stable with stud attached. I naturally jumped at the idea and off we went to the station to collect them. It was here that I met Bill Wakefield, the owner of the stud, and his trainer Jack Perry. By the time we had settled the horses at the stud, it was arranged that I would start work there in the January of 1960. I finished school in December 1959 and so it was, with great excitement, that I went off to work in the New Year. </span><br />
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Working in racing stables meant a very early wakeup call, being on the road by 04h30 and with the first string of racehorses we would be out of the yard by 05h30! By then, my elbow had healed well and I would ride work with either one of the stable lads or with our regular Irish jockey Johnny Roe, who used to come out to the stud three times a week. Johnny, on returning to his home in Ireland a few years later, became champion jockey there 9 times.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv-H7ZrsqcButXpC1AgNZgnAUUFjGGsATUVopyElnrPl75Rwn3mlCWh2_TPb4vCk4o7xk0vg6IFaaZY4w8N0BFa5W481BlCGOwXwNBNIZCRhQWqUMRvq9LhvjqFMeoMPxb5CBg9VCzMDM/s1600/1961SnackJohnnyRoe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv-H7ZrsqcButXpC1AgNZgnAUUFjGGsATUVopyElnrPl75Rwn3mlCWh2_TPb4vCk4o7xk0vg6IFaaZY4w8N0BFa5W481BlCGOwXwNBNIZCRhQWqUMRvq9LhvjqFMeoMPxb5CBg9VCzMDM/s1600/1961SnackJohnnyRoe.jpg" height="402" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Johnny Roe on one of my all time favourite race horses 'Snack' at Borrowdale Stud.</span></td></tr>
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Luckily for me, in Rhodesia I could take my car driving test at 16, so driving to work and back was not a problem. Dad bought me a very old long wheel base Lloyd (now a very rare make!) which served the purpose well. I have to admit, though, to having one serious mishap one morning on the way to work. The route at one point descended quite a steep hill and at the bottom of the hill the tarmac stopped and the road turned abruptly into a loose sandy surface. I was driving a bit too fast and on reaching the sand, I started to go into a slide; lack of experience caused me to put my foot on the brake which made the car do a complete roll-over and back onto its wheels again! The vehicle looked a little the worse for wear(!) but was still running and I seemed to be intact, so I carried on to work. The reality of what I had done hit me when Jack Perry came running out and saw the car! He phoned my Dad and put me on a horse and sent me off to concentrate on other things. Mum and Dad came out to collect the car and took me home later in the morning. The whole episode did one good thing for me, though. It taught me never to hit the brake if your car is in a slide! In later years, I did training on a skid pan and learnt exactly how to handle that and other situations on slippery surfaces. Basically I was none the worse for the experience, just a whole lot wiser and Dad found another small car for me to use to go back and forth.</div>
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Early in 1960, Hy-Li-Li was really on form and won several point-to-points and a number of show jumping events. Dusky, meanwhile, was coping very well with the lower show jumping grades in the adult classes and Kismet was getting the odd place but was not showing any dramatic improvement. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5SaPJCK0ztTtBpS8PcbuafsyJq6S0NaHQhHNJYo_dA0oAeg_ZaIsmSgl1tYw-i-lprfco8SX7BXzetPFq7-dFDzLLZTR4ZTErZHrZK_6TeqMALWKOzvxAXIp_ZCpcv8QOBY0zh16t9KU/s1600/1961RustlerSbyShow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5SaPJCK0ztTtBpS8PcbuafsyJq6S0NaHQhHNJYo_dA0oAeg_ZaIsmSgl1tYw-i-lprfco8SX7BXzetPFq7-dFDzLLZTR4ZTErZHrZK_6TeqMALWKOzvxAXIp_ZCpcv8QOBY0zh16t9KU/s1600/1961RustlerSbyShow.jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Myself and Rustler at Salisbury Show (now Harare). Salisbury show was a big event and riders from South Africa used to travel up to it.</span></td></tr>
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Towards the end of 1960, Rustler joined the stable and we were then up to four horses. Rustler was a very flighty bay about 16 hands high, with a nasty habit of ‘fly jumping’ when approaching a fence. This is similar to jumping imaginary jumps, usually when the rider least expects it! He generally succeeded in putting me in the position of being unable to correct his stride so he was in the right position for the fence we would be approaching. I spent many hours training over small fences to try and prevent his exuberance, but although he improved, we never did really get it right.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeDY85_Da4OqyeRHYwNsNhNw2HuHtVYXVB8g43agGUm2rVOS9oy3_HsB7VMbPfbRHTKCPHkXC3tvSDovTak6PcPONlBVa1XsF_7Lx-LTIrWwDF3n8wunMVs1gOHe92rRGl-ASHYo9B2ik/s1600/1961RustlerSinoiaShow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeDY85_Da4OqyeRHYwNsNhNw2HuHtVYXVB8g43agGUm2rVOS9oy3_HsB7VMbPfbRHTKCPHkXC3tvSDovTak6PcPONlBVa1XsF_7Lx-LTIrWwDF3n8wunMVs1gOHe92rRGl-ASHYo9B2ik/s1600/1961RustlerSinoiaShow.jpg" height="446" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Myself and Rustler at Sinoia Show; the biggest event of the year, the Show Jumping Derby, was held here.</span></td></tr>
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In September of 1960, we had the Horse of the Year Show at Chikarubi Farm, just on the outskirts of Salisbury. I took all four horses. Kismet and Rustler were a complete disaster, knocking fences over in all directions, Hy-Li-Li certainly did not let the side down, but in the main event for which we had to qualify, Dusky really came into his own! It was a handicapped event, which is unusual in the show jumping world, and it involved C grade up to A grade horses. <br />
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Grading in Rhodesia was done, at that time, using points awarded for success in show jumping events, with A grade being for the most successful horses. D grade was for beginners, who hoped soon to move up the ladder!<br />
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By then, Dusky had been upgraded to C and was finding the fences just about at his limit. He managed a clear round first time on the course and then had to jump off against the clock. As there were both A grade and B grade horses in the jump off who were much larger than him, his chances were not very good as his stride was just not able to lengthen enough to cover the ground as fast as they could. What none of us had taken into consideration was that because of his small size, he was able to manoeuvre and turn far more easily, thus shortening the distance and time between fences. I have never been so proud when the final results came through, to find that Dusky’s clear round was 0.5 of a second faster than anyone else! There were huge celebrations with Dusky drinking beer (no champagne available) out of the Horse of the Year trophy. This was his final event in the show jumping arena, as I knew he was not capable, or large enough, of being upgraded any further, so he retired in the glory of being named Horse of the Year in 1960. I was so proud of the little pony.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Myself with Kismet at the back and Dusky in the front.</span></td></tr>
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I am finishing up this episode with a few newspaper cuttings from the local Salisbury paper, in case anyone should be interested! The photos aren't very flattering and you will note that there are several minor errors of fact, my Christian name being spelt with an 'a', for one. Also errors with my height and age, which has an apology attached! Journalism and printing processes have come a long way in the last 50 years!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjprxDmjYeQvkn1zb9LBiRCDf9VLQzFFRtDjYUtsfoBjMfh6PXo4EO1AneIOcOzWHUStuyr64Ne1YA26IOuRCupVm4LnIfPVcVv_umtIxoKyHifDJ1GFzpSFutkxfpK_KtblFtxTgsRi3U/s1600/1961Seaforth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjprxDmjYeQvkn1zb9LBiRCDf9VLQzFFRtDjYUtsfoBjMfh6PXo4EO1AneIOcOzWHUStuyr64Ne1YA26IOuRCupVm4LnIfPVcVv_umtIxoKyHifDJ1GFzpSFutkxfpK_KtblFtxTgsRi3U/s1600/1961Seaforth.jpg" height="640" width="422" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Being led into the winner's enclosure on 'Seaforth' by the owner, Mr Dalrymple</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgN0Vbqk9gCn2HBes_pBZlTkjJexE-j2rpuwwz3I4Sf4h2Jr9TSYwFzAmU3C5hLbY1dnEwrD5_cgOF1DtQCXs7UxQ_Asv1iWQjMPdfG9DbHC0G3QfFeaVE52zmnyGpO2KPluoxmj2dP2E/s1600/19611910DianeAtB.Stud.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgN0Vbqk9gCn2HBes_pBZlTkjJexE-j2rpuwwz3I4Sf4h2Jr9TSYwFzAmU3C5hLbY1dnEwrD5_cgOF1DtQCXs7UxQ_Asv1iWQjMPdfG9DbHC0G3QfFeaVE52zmnyGpO2KPluoxmj2dP2E/s1600/19611910DianeAtB.Stud.jpg" height="640" width="548" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">19 October 1961</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3nImkT7F710Dgc5dz4DzwfXNZTQlUcy-oAHY8Yd4i4DH1b3Z5HRgz2IJEEF1xWpKD70lzC_MYv-FH3rIGfzhedLvKttCiabrUCO0QF5lxe8wXtwWQMkBG5byr-bGCT7fhZiIH3ryjP78/s1600/19610208DianeCuttingA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3nImkT7F710Dgc5dz4DzwfXNZTQlUcy-oAHY8Yd4i4DH1b3Z5HRgz2IJEEF1xWpKD70lzC_MYv-FH3rIGfzhedLvKttCiabrUCO0QF5lxe8wXtwWQMkBG5byr-bGCT7fhZiIH3ryjP78/s1600/19610208DianeCuttingA.jpg" height="640" width="352" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span></span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></div>
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<span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">See</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #09a5b8; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; text-decoration: none;" target="-blank">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</a></span></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-4433416265380818822014-01-12T11:39:00.000-08:002014-01-12T11:39:06.289-08:00Adding more horses to my show jumping experiences.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1958, we built another couple of stables and Hy-li-li was the first horse to move in! She was a very slightly built, 15.2 hands high, dark brown mare that had been bred for racing by Jack Quinton in Umvukwees, a tobacco farming community 70 miles or so north of Salisbury. Jack was another of Dad’s contacts from work. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hy-li-li had been placed in races a couple of times, but it did not look as if a racing career for her was worth pursuing. She was a lively little horse and it was planned that I would use her for starting my adult showjumping career the following year, when I turned sixteen. We would both start in the bottom grades together and hopefully learn from each other! It was also planned that I could use her for hurdling and steeplechasing; at sixteen, I could then start my racing career as an amateur jockey.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtZPauSkXhjP8d7HW37_b9qPzrlShMeLCgJ3NAG4w9LBheYig3BS1gpXsq_DPkEszx0XiFMCEFWmv7S7TZXFiHr6nuR3Q3xdDu54iYGol8aEq6JF6qZMaL94o5VzH-73xdfZg3-4HGqAg/s1600/1959HyLiLi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtZPauSkXhjP8d7HW37_b9qPzrlShMeLCgJ3NAG4w9LBheYig3BS1gpXsq_DPkEszx0XiFMCEFWmv7S7TZXFiHr6nuR3Q3xdDu54iYGol8aEq6JF6qZMaL94o5VzH-73xdfZg3-4HGqAg/s1600/1959HyLiLi.jpg" height="640" width="450" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hy-Li-Li</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Only a couple of months later, Kismet also joined my growing team of horses. He was a complete contrast to the other two, being a gangly 17.2 hands high chestnut with a season's experience of show jumping. Not long after Kismet had joined the family, I took him to a paper chase, and while galloping across a large field, a sizeable hole opened up underneath his front foot! We both did a complete somersault and luckily for him, he got straight back up on his feet, none the worse for wear. I had somehow contrived to hold on to the reins and not let him go, but I soon realised that I now had a very odd shaped left wrist!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I managed with some difficulty to remount him and rode gently back to where my parents were with the horse box. We took Kismet straight home, where he was checked over and stabled and I was whisked off to hospital for x-rays. After discovering that there was a definite fracture, my wrist was put into a splint to allow for swelling and I returned a couple of days later. It was at this time that the surgeon realised that my wrist had started to set slightly out of position and he called in his partner for a second opinion. The partner’s comment was that I would probably fall and break it again, and if so, it could be set straight then! The end result was that it was left, and so to this day, I have a very odd shaped boney bump on my wrist which at times is still very painful. After the decision to leave it, I was then put into a full plaster cast for 6 weeks and I was back riding once more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In December of the same year, I took Kismet to his first show since I had owned him and although I only had him entered in the "handy hunter" class, he won first prize! In March 1959, I won my first cross country event with him.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5zq628ywVdCgLgZFc_SdvI6VwLKUfG3DPlz763Qtxn1YHTgE9AQSIeNKyeeAa4yadFKwKOq88msnTBvDf3JO8YWFMhbj5JmqNpnCUZeSOASeLMGhyH8pmbgUUOWoAoE1hVfLYhFpQYik/s1600/1959KismetByoShow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5zq628ywVdCgLgZFc_SdvI6VwLKUfG3DPlz763Qtxn1YHTgE9AQSIeNKyeeAa4yadFKwKOq88msnTBvDf3JO8YWFMhbj5JmqNpnCUZeSOASeLMGhyH8pmbgUUOWoAoE1hVfLYhFpQYik/s1600/1959KismetByoShow.jpg" height="640" width="450" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Kismet - 1959 Bulawayo Show</span></td></tr>
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During this same period, I had met up with a farmer friend of my Dad's, who owned several race horses and some others which he kept at the farm and hoped to hurdle race. I went out to the farm several times for weekends and rode 'work' on the track and helped with the training over hurdles. There was a large point to point meeting in April 1959 and as I had not reached my 16th birthday, the farmer applied for a special licence for me to be able to ride. He also went to the expense of special insurance, which was also a problem due to me being under age. I am pleased to say that I justified his confidence in me! Of the three rides on his horses, I won two of the races - on St Memo and Remember Me - and I was third on Stephen. This was the start of my amateur racing career and one that I always enjoyed. Unfortunately, weight would always be a problem for me and it was impossible for me to ride much under 9 stone even with the lightest of saddles.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivA9W9QjqPHXpOGHk8ZeAKq5F-7e21y7MoAPhik1Og5cAd_9px-hoHbaslpJ7iTemYfgi9Fwvq2ovFMCKE5olyr_tl-wk4kzzaKUtYwR_rmhZvCCMoYKg41Mn66j54TQvKidm8Hi3fjX4/s1600/1959Stephen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivA9W9QjqPHXpOGHk8ZeAKq5F-7e21y7MoAPhik1Og5cAd_9px-hoHbaslpJ7iTemYfgi9Fwvq2ovFMCKE5olyr_tl-wk4kzzaKUtYwR_rmhZvCCMoYKg41Mn66j54TQvKidm8Hi3fjX4/s1600/1959Stephen.jpg" height="640" width="600" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Newspaper cutting 30/4/1959</span></td></tr>
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In May 1959, Kismet was at his best and was winning at several shows around the country. At about this time, a week-long show jumping training course was held by Chris Coldrey (a top rider, who went on to be one of the finest European course builders I ever met), and twelve of the top Rhodesian riders were invited to take part. I was lucky enough to be one of those riders and Kismet joined me on the course. It was a tough week with both practical and theoretical tests; we were all given points for our performance. The final crunch came on the last Saturday, when we had a show jumping event and the results of that would be added to the week’s points and prizes would be given. Kismet put everything into the event and when all the points were added up, Kismet and I were the final winners! It was truly an amazing week and an experience of a lifetime; I learnt so much from Chris's tuition.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYaVxLhtpm3qRq0HHQshfOcRqd2ytG6qp9GmLNAQYpFQ62Lh6iCE3rbbH7w0MXemsuiRpLMalliysnDJFmvNOstB0VMJC_82rRRBNvhjlulyNBXlFwpr0bfQvZsuG11h7DmtqeOyZxEoQ/s1600/1959KChrisCaldreyCourse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYaVxLhtpm3qRq0HHQshfOcRqd2ytG6qp9GmLNAQYpFQ62Lh6iCE3rbbH7w0MXemsuiRpLMalliysnDJFmvNOstB0VMJC_82rRRBNvhjlulyNBXlFwpr0bfQvZsuG11h7DmtqeOyZxEoQ/s1600/1959KChrisCaldreyCourse.jpg" height="398" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">On the Chris Coldrey course. I am 6th from the left, Chris is 8th from the left with his young son. Normally, we never ride without hard hats, but they were removed especially for the photo!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-A43Q6u1lhyphenhyphenjIO-2NguazrKS2isDfH-IJv2rHEQnLqIEtkdQQh_QPQ4P_zCCHIs0Z4Dk4xhA9sF6djzyJN9DC6vBK_PIXEAd_8ZaiMMyP9MyTUxYYBDRwPXRo5UfRr8_-amXP2VXpsg/s1600/1959KismetChrisCaldreyCourse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-A43Q6u1lhyphenhyphenjIO-2NguazrKS2isDfH-IJv2rHEQnLqIEtkdQQh_QPQ4P_zCCHIs0Z4Dk4xhA9sF6djzyJN9DC6vBK_PIXEAd_8ZaiMMyP9MyTUxYYBDRwPXRo5UfRr8_-amXP2VXpsg/s1600/1959KismetChrisCaldreyCourse.jpg" height="470" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Kismet with one of his 'famous' early 'take offs' at a fence during the course.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtYdDUj8m1sALxMnSTzSKG1dHwbPasW7x8Nb5GVbr-dBiMcwjYYZ3CUobST22Kvvig2Pni3Zpz_-tsbse-dcCPGB-fAftxBT3GmD7UzpWeqpgljNjG9j3iplOb6huvHE7JSurRGPz9kk/s1600/1957DusyKismetTrophies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtYdDUj8m1sALxMnSTzSKG1dHwbPasW7x8Nb5GVbr-dBiMcwjYYZ3CUobST22Kvvig2Pni3Zpz_-tsbse-dcCPGB-fAftxBT3GmD7UzpWeqpgljNjG9j3iplOb6huvHE7JSurRGPz9kk/s1600/1957DusyKismetTrophies.jpg" height="640" width="414" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Kismet and Dusky showing some of their trophies and rosettes.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span></span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></div>
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<span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">See</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> <span style="color: #09a5b8; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;" target="-blank">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</a></span></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-45787318662902375382013-09-15T08:34:00.001-07:002013-09-15T08:37:17.246-07:00Good Bye David.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1956 I started senior school, and became a founder member at Arundel, which was a very prestigious private school on the outskirts of Salisbury. During the first year, I became friendly with a girl in my class who also rode; her father, who was a judge, helped enormously with the pony club as well. Although the whole family eventually moved to the UK while my friend was in her late teens, we are still very good friends to this day. As far as I can remember, the school consisted of only 60 girls in the first year it opened. Most of us were in the first two senior forms (I and II), but a 6th form girl was head girl. We all started out in one room in one of the boarding houses, as the classrooms were not quite finished, but a week or so later, we made our way to our new classrooms and school work began in earnest. The sports fields and swimming pool were very soon all finished and sport became a very important component of the school curriculum. I was a member of the netball and swimming teams, but I hated hockey and I was absolutely useless at tennis!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Some of the girls from the first day at school. I am 5th from the right, kneeling in the front row.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have recently discovered that two of the girls that started out with me there are now living in France! One lives here permanently and the other splits her time between the UK and France. We all met up earlier this year and had a great <a href="http://lifeincharente.blogspot.fr/2013/07/visiting-minerve-cathars-and-meeting.html" target="_blank">reunion</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A staff photo soon after the school opened. Many I remember well; some because I really liked them, but a couple because I could not stand them!!</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My pony Dusky’s first show was at Gatooma in July 1957 and he surprised us all by winning his very first jumping event; he had four second places and one third in the gymkhana events. I was so proud of him and his training had obviously paid off! Gatooma was in an area called the "midlands" of Rhodesia and a large horse show was held there, alongside the annual agricultural show. During the year, there were always a couple of horse shows there, combined with race meetings which ran over a whole weekend. A team of Lewisham Riding School riders always used to go down and we stayed on the farm owned by the local butcher. I remember he had a couple of semi-tame zebra there which we tried unsuccessfully to ride on one occasion! Sadly I do not seem to have photos of of this escapade!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dusky and me in 1957 at Lewisham Riding School on Parents Day. I remember at the time being told this was a good photo, as I was already looking ahead to the next fence off to the right! Dusky can be seen growing out his mane here; this had been clipped off when we bought him. The practice of clipping resulted from there being so many ticks around farmsteads; also polo players preferred not to have mane in the way while they were playing!</span></div>
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In August 1957, Mary Adams took a team of horses and riders down to the Rand Show in Johannesburg. Dusky was not up to this standard yet, so he stayed at home, while I took Judy the piebald as my mount. The show was fairly successful with our riding school members getting a number of places, but no wins. It was a major experience for all of us, as the competition was of a very high standard.<br />
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Rosemary, Clive, myself on Judy and Ray on Santa Fe. Ray was tragically killed by a truck on the road, while out taking a ride at his mother's riding school some years later.</div>
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On the way north back home, we all drove through the Kruger National Park, so we had a holiday as well. On my return, I had the worst possible news waiting for me. While I was away, Mum had in fact phoned Mary Adams with some terrible news, but it was decided that nothing would be gained from upsetting me and the news could wait for my return. David had been killed in a car accident on 29 August and he had already been buried by the time I got back to Salisbury. I was devastated by this and I still feel as if part of my own life has been taken away from me. He had so much still to give, and we had so many happy years removed from our futures. I can only think how terrible it must have been for my parents, especially Mum, to have lost a son when he was only 21.</div>
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David 1953</div>
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David 1956 in his prized MG during his army call up period.</div>
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A smiling David during his army call up period.</div>
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R.I.P</div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span></span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" height="200" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" width="200" /></div>
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<span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">See</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;" target="-blank"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</span></a></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-61417310465707631422013-07-29T06:18:00.001-07:002013-09-14T04:51:31.589-07:00Dad's fibreglass car and my first pony in Rhodesia. Still in the 1950's!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the time of moving house, Dad had ordered a fibreglass car body from the UK. I think that the original plan was to build it up for use in the local car club driving events, but as far as I remember, this never materialised! The car was built with a Morris Minor engine, and when the weather was good, Mum would use it most of the time. It had an open cockpit, with no doors and I remember her always having to wear slacks when driving it! One of the stories about this car that is vivid in my mind was when Mum was shopping one day; a school kid asked Mum what kind of car it was. She replied “it’s a Morris Minor”, so the friend with him responded “ask a silly question and you get a silly answer”!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">My Dad's Morris Minor 'Special'. This must have been before it was registered as I see there are no number plates on it. You can understand how my Mum could not wear a skirt to go shopping when she had to clamber in and out!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Soon after the house move, we had a stable and tack room built and then the search was on for a pony for me. By this time, my Dad was selling tractors and a lot of his time was spent travelling to farms in different areas. He had gone to a farm in Umwukwes, where the farmer was a keen polo player. Dad asked if the farmer knew of any ponies for sale and the farmer replied that he had one that might be ideal for my purposes. It had been bred on the farm and although he had high hopes that one day the pony would be part of his polo team, Dusky, as the pony was called, did not have the heart for the game. So long as he did not have to ‘push off’ another horse, which is required in the game of polo, he could do everything else that was required; however, the game is tough and he lacked some of the heart and power to push the horse playing next to him out of the way.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">Dad off-loading a Nuffield tractor that he had sold on the farm. Note the basic but clever loading platform!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">After some discussion it was arranged that I would go up to see Dusky at the weekend, and before we knew it, I was the proud owner of a pony and there was a head looking out over the new stable door!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The very next day I rode over to Lewisham Riding School to show Dusky off. I was so proud of him and everyone appeared to be duly impressed. It was of course going to be a long time before I was riding him in competition, as he still had to learn how to jump and nip around quickly in the gymkhana events. During the week I still rode the school ponies in class, but at the weekends I took Dusky to Lewisham where everyone helped me with his education. He was a quick learner and seemed to relish the fun of gymkhana events which involved lots of quick twisting and turning. </span></div>
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He was very strong, and at times it was all I could do to keep him under control. Jumping came more slowly to him and he did not seem to show too much enthusiasm; but when I took him on his first paper chase, he loved every minute of ‘running with the hounds’. <br />
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The Right Honourable John Long owned a pack of hounds and "paper chasing" became particularly popular in Rhodesia, where of course there were no foxes! Paper chases take place on a route laid out by a member of the hunt and he rides from starting point to the finish, dragging behind his horse, a sack carrying the scent that the hounds will follow. These events were also a magical training facility for young horses, as they socialised and learnt the manners needed in a crowd. I think that the horses enjoyed their day out as much, if not more, than their owners!</div>
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This first event seemed to inspire Dusky's jumping and from there on, he went from strength to strength. We used to ‘hunt’ a couple of times a month. </div>
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Above and below, photos of me from previous years, riding the grey pony called Prince Charming at a gymkhana.</div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 19px;"> </span><br />
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 18px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 18px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span></span><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" height="200" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" style="border: currentColor; position: relative;" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 18px; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="color: white;">See</span><b><span style="color: white;"> <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">HERE</a></span></b></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-74410827226071860282013-07-13T02:21:00.000-07:002013-07-13T02:21:15.534-07:00Life in the early 50's<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While we had been setting up our new home, I had started riding lessons at Lewisham Riding School, with the owner Mary
Adams. I used to go twice a week after
school, and by the end of my first year, I had started jumping lessons and had
competed in the local gymkhana which Lewisham used to hold. First there was Punch the piebald, who I started
riding at gymkhanas, and I steadily progressed to Judy the skewbald who also was
an excellent show jumper. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnIRxeDrwxpHc5Ljkx3A3RJP8MSOavDlZjYxWoswNbDKDHEeMb0hd_f9WX_hSe_95hVtFHdCZUjt02M9lbwf3xy31Am0CFDPJvA3LUGfXiSFxVLFMCROIwYmASzcr7MVlXNp9cIMBsR0Q/s1600/1950sPunch1srRosette.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="524" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnIRxeDrwxpHc5Ljkx3A3RJP8MSOavDlZjYxWoswNbDKDHEeMb0hd_f9WX_hSe_95hVtFHdCZUjt02M9lbwf3xy31Am0CFDPJvA3LUGfXiSFxVLFMCROIwYmASzcr7MVlXNp9cIMBsR0Q/s640/1950sPunch1srRosette.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">My very first rosette on Punch.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mary Adams had two sons who had a pair of stunning dun ponies, called Santa Fe and Santa Maria, both of which were rarely ridden by anyone other than the boys. I have never forgotten the day when I was allowed to ride Santa Fe, when his owner was away for a short time; I really though that I had made it!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1HNMi1WkVlD7e0CW8JOg1_qU77pvDHLTNBLNzZeH5PmiGbWmf9jcY_GgxwbNeApdok1AKYRkTi5nGLznOShlUQaXF5OYreN9f_zfArvmZDCnY7vSpcdkU61dvHCMzYjBFC6PYezifCi0/s1600/1950sShamrockQuadrilles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1HNMi1WkVlD7e0CW8JOg1_qU77pvDHLTNBLNzZeH5PmiGbWmf9jcY_GgxwbNeApdok1AKYRkTi5nGLznOShlUQaXF5OYreN9f_zfArvmZDCnY7vSpcdkU61dvHCMzYjBFC6PYezifCi0/s640/1950sShamrockQuadrilles.jpg" width="486" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Riding Shamrock in a musical ride. There used to be 16 horses and riders in all. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In
1954, Dad started working as a mechanic for Chris Annesley, who was one of the
local racing car drivers. Our weekends
were suddenly very full with either horses or cars! I tried to go to as many horse events as
possible, but a number of weekends were taken up by car practice and Mum and I
went along as `support’ team. In 1954 we
took our very first trip to South Africa to go to Kyalami race track near Johannesburg, where
Chris was racing. We were away for
several days (it was a long drive - 800 miles or so each way) and as Peter Pan was showing at the local "drive-in" cinema, which
everyone knew I would enjoy, we all had our first experience of sitting in our
car to watch a film. This was of course an American concept adopted in Southern Africa, where space - at the time- was freely available! The car was parked
on a ramp next to a speaker post. The
speaker was removed from the post and hooked on to the car window and, hey
presto, it was like being in the local cinema, but much comfier. Unfortunately
due to the advent of TV, the cinemas lost their huge following and eventually most,
if not all of the drive-in cinemas, closed down in both South Africa and
Rhodesia.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5MU3UAJsolnMsM9Y1HdoL459uxYeOTYYmt3As82uqSz0KenAfPpGpEoVFugwQ9gVk8nNBnz2O9Iv6pB9XAFSN5rMw1lNJnLNkdX1vxhVFudpxjQJox7BjC1_We-27hHVaCpXUvTy-Rvg/s1600/1050sCarRacing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5MU3UAJsolnMsM9Y1HdoL459uxYeOTYYmt3As82uqSz0KenAfPpGpEoVFugwQ9gVk8nNBnz2O9Iv6pB9XAFSN5rMw1lNJnLNkdX1vxhVFudpxjQJox7BjC1_We-27hHVaCpXUvTy-Rvg/s640/1050sCarRacing.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Car racing in the 50's!! Note the start/finish banner at the back; the pits would have been in the centre, where you can see the people; no barriers! A little different from motor racing nowadays.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsXB4QtlMHcpHGq5A6aLk-kz0vkPfAFIlm4mZ9ajX3Z2NKJnZJi3BKM6nu3Z34uA56NCl8vTNFgLIc4fraETJnEZtdUa9weB4LkbJnpcZNO5sAJM64A3ZCKLN3n2NXw5MX9ZfVQabnrSk/s1600/1954UmtaliDiane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsXB4QtlMHcpHGq5A6aLk-kz0vkPfAFIlm4mZ9ajX3Z2NKJnZJi3BKM6nu3Z34uA56NCl8vTNFgLIc4fraETJnEZtdUa9weB4LkbJnpcZNO5sAJM64A3ZCKLN3n2NXw5MX9ZfVQabnrSk/s640/1954UmtaliDiane.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Me trying my luck at Umtali!!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In
June 1955, we went to a motor race meeting at Umtali in Rhodesia, a town quite
close to the Portuguese East Africa (now Mozambique) border. It was planned that after the meeting,
the four of us would take a holiday and travel across the border and spend a
week in the Gorongoza game reserve. At
the time we owned a Morris Minor Traveller (the one with the wood frame at the back), which was ideal for a holiday
because of the extra space in the back.
The day after our arrival in Gorongoza, I came out in spots and Mum was
duly informed by a woman there, “my dear, she has measles, you will have to take
her home and keep her in the dark, so she does not damage her eyes”. The following day we made the return trip
back to Salisbury only to find that the spots had almost gone on arrival and I
had a mild dose of german measles! We
then discovered that Max, one of Chris Annersley’s friends and also a racing driver, had contracted the very same infection the day before me and he must have passed it
on to me. Nevertheless, it had spoiled the
holiday for everyone and it was out of the question to drive all the way back
for the remaining days.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At
the end of 1955, a couple who had heard about our caravan made my Dad an
interesting offer! They wanted to retire, and their
plan was to travel around South Africa towing a caravan, stopping when and how
they wanted. They owned two
houses on the opposite side of Salisbury, one which they lived in and the other was
split into three flats, which were rented out.
There was enough property to build stables and have a paddock, so my
dream of having my own pony was in sight at last! They wanted to sell their property to us and buy the
caravan. The end result was that we put our 'new' home up for sale and we moved yet again, to Greencroft Road in Mabelreign, a large suburb out on the Lomagundi road, on the north side of Salisbury. This meant new zoning for schools, so I made
yet another change to Avondale Junior School.
Three schools in Rhodesia and three in England by the time I was eleven,
took a bit of keeping up with!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Putting a bay window on to what was to be my bedroom in the new house.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigpRYHMP4j-gbNweMFDhgp7emBuKKgU1CwFY8iyiBTmGxjez-pAgI3TXzEWSPbS21CeSDwi3AOuc4hxT1wZ7ZQETgrugBDTTzP3Uygb0C8z3k2lzEPPLABsbWbOECIdpfVwkAw0bWfsNU/s1600/1954DavidMotorbike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="518" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigpRYHMP4j-gbNweMFDhgp7emBuKKgU1CwFY8iyiBTmGxjez-pAgI3TXzEWSPbS21CeSDwi3AOuc4hxT1wZ7ZQETgrugBDTTzP3Uygb0C8z3k2lzEPPLABsbWbOECIdpfVwkAw0bWfsNU/s640/1954DavidMotorbike.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">David showing off his 'new' (secondhand) Norton motorbike.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidTwENKv0Jhej36xPksh4Lw_S5ljzZP99E04OZ_heqLhylLBkIniQ7DtONp81EHf0tmcey4XXwjvqEY6SvpRWAZEzWd56DuFZntBjcqaXxPRMgfaf2kqIIdf2TpGOTFkkm7r6ozC4Urkw/s1600/1950sSbySwimmingPool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidTwENKv0Jhej36xPksh4Lw_S5ljzZP99E04OZ_heqLhylLBkIniQ7DtONp81EHf0tmcey4XXwjvqEY6SvpRWAZEzWd56DuFZntBjcqaXxPRMgfaf2kqIIdf2TpGOTFkkm7r6ozC4Urkw/s640/1950sSbySwimmingPool.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Salisbury Swimming pool where we spent quite a lot of time during my teen years. I wonder if the pool is still there as Harare Swimming pool; I doubt it!!</span><br />
<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> </span><br />
<div style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span></span><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" target="_blank"><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" height="200" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">
<span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">See<b> <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" target="_blank">HERE</a></b></span></div>
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Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-29044991215228685672013-04-30T11:06:00.000-07:002013-04-30T11:06:59.551-07:00Getting back to normal living and the arrival of Felix.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We
all soon settled down to a normal routine, but in a very different environment from that we had in Somerset; David and Dad went off to work each day,
it was school for me and Mum returned to being a housewife. Two months
passed by and Dad returned home early from work with a small bundle. He had met a hunter at the garage, newly
returned from an expedition. Apparently, while out in the bush, they had
found a female leopard caught in a trap and her state was such that they had to put her
out of her misery. They then realised
that she was heavy with milk and that she must have cubs somewhere. The trackers were put to work and they soon
discovered two tiny cubs with their eyes still closed and mewing with
hunger. To this day, I never found out
how Dad really got involved, but the end result was that we were living in a caravan
and bringing up a leopard cub! The
hunter had said he could only cope with one and was at his wits' end what to do with
the other; a daft thing to say with my father around, as he loved any type of
animal! He always said that if it had
not been for the war and becoming an engineer in the Merchant Navy, plus of
course his parents owning a petrol and service station, he would liked to have been
a veterinary surgeon.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYtYhyphenhyphenEF_5pxGWT7K85JPrYep42qIHm3QhaQkpFDlVoBv0NjPJh5qL-Yjqyh6_kPl85kjHo5evwWFZYy-rmKg3hQwzBRPiNWei0o6dnJ-4b4NfIEW2Fz81KtVpzgQqFjZC4YPWvRmPepA/s1600/FelixCollage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYtYhyphenhyphenEF_5pxGWT7K85JPrYep42qIHm3QhaQkpFDlVoBv0NjPJh5qL-Yjqyh6_kPl85kjHo5evwWFZYy-rmKg3hQwzBRPiNWei0o6dnJ-4b4NfIEW2Fz81KtVpzgQqFjZC4YPWvRmPepA/s640/FelixCollage.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Felix growing up and showing that he did have big teeth!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the arrival
of Felix, as he was named, no one got very much sleep, as it seemed to be everlasting
feeding time; but as he got bigger, it was just like having a large cat
around. We had been doing some house
hunting so that I could move to a private school, but now if Felix was to
become part of the household, it was imperative that we found somewhere larger
than a caravan to live in. In those days,
there were no laws concerning the keeping of wild animals and we never had any
problems where the authorities were concerned. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCbQLRfBPQa-FHJvAg8cKbUXZgVc6XN-Vqff5O3pJ-JA_4wp6ynbsPSVwmy2IAdfxqy4SbjTJITwKZ-kaV3Ptdg7tnyy4XFB2iaaTzMNktMg-CxkfasEc3xN6WowPfqMk1A1AmqPguZos/s1600/1953_4NewHouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCbQLRfBPQa-FHJvAg8cKbUXZgVc6XN-Vqff5O3pJ-JA_4wp6ynbsPSVwmy2IAdfxqy4SbjTJITwKZ-kaV3Ptdg7tnyy4XFB2iaaTzMNktMg-CxkfasEc3xN6WowPfqMk1A1AmqPguZos/s640/1953_4NewHouse.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Our new home</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We
finally found a very nice house set on a very large plot, in the suburb of
Greendale, just outside Salisbury. We
moved lock, stock and barrel with the caravan and although we stayed in the van
for a short time while we were decorating and buying furniture, our lifestyle
improved dramatically! After completing
one term at my first Rhodesian school, I moved to the local junior school, named after Courtney
Selous, a famous Rhodesian explorer. This was still a government
school, but it was very up-market compared to where I had been! Felix had a large ‘kennel’ built, where we
could fit him with a harness and tether, so he was able to have some freedom outside.
At the times we were at home, he was in fact just loose walking around the
house. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Myself at Courtney Selous school fancy dress - selling my oranges dressed as Nell Gwynne!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Felix when still quite small!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyvcgSQgBk1XFAzmGUXqxUD-fpbS6cGCl64HMNwwlpN6VOyTiM6_Z7JYu4D39fo87g9MYG1fNF_Ui5a7Y_QmdE6X2Qp1nKgU0RyI4lPSg3kwU2RJpxEZKhvNnTEnqp4cUXj8eqUhVJ3ds/s1600/Felix%2526Dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="516" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyvcgSQgBk1XFAzmGUXqxUD-fpbS6cGCl64HMNwwlpN6VOyTiM6_Z7JYu4D39fo87g9MYG1fNF_Ui5a7Y_QmdE6X2Qp1nKgU0RyI4lPSg3kwU2RJpxEZKhvNnTEnqp4cUXj8eqUhVJ3ds/s640/Felix%2526Dad.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>With my Dad, and a little older</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was quite amusing when we had
visitors, especially if they did not know there was a leopard at large. We always made sure that the door was closed
and when people arrived, invariably Felix would be out in the kitchen; this was
where he used to spend a lot of time with Mum.
After he noticed that she had gone missing for a period of time, he would
then go in search of her, invariably slinking quietly into the lounge, where he
would jump up onto the nearest chair!
Unfortunately we never did get a picture of the frozen expressions
we saw many times on the faces of unsuspecting people! Felix loved my mother and she had a hard
time cleaning the house, as a duster or a broom was only there to be played
with! Amazingly enough, there was very
little damage done inside the house or to the furniture; I suspect that all the claw
sharpening was done on a large log that lay by the side of his kennel. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Stretching his legs!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Getting a cuddle from our house servant, Tiki, who loved spending time with Felix.</i></span></div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We all suffered from his claws from time to
time when the play got a bit rough, but never at any stage did any of us ever
feel unsafe or in any danger from him.
Tragically, at the age of two and a half we had to have him put to sleep, having suffered a broken back. We had been out and
Felix had been at the kennel with the harness on. There had been no reason to lock him up, as
our African servant who loved Felix as his own, was on the property. On our return, we found our servant sitting
crying, next to the prone body of Felix. He told us that children from down the road had come on
to our property and, finding a nearby pile of bricks, proceeded to throw them at
Felix. One brick obviously was thrown
particularly hard, catching a vital spot and our
Veterinary Surgeon who promptly called round, said that although he would have x-rays taken, he was
certain that Felix would never walk again.
We were all broken hearted that such a lively animal should come to such
a sad end. It was many months before we could sit in the lounge without
expecting a large cat to arrive on our laps.
Many tears were shed then, and for a long time afterwards. As he had grown bigger, we had been prepared for the time when we would have to make arrangements for Felix to be sent to
a Wild Life Park or similar, but none of us had foreseen an outcome as sad as this.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaypnEWY-6mC_KeJ04ivj8mGei0O9kV8HllUdPGAmHPcsLoJTEGRFgGAI3a5E5LXCG5S-zlj8XJNGttmBd6a21ihOqZPL8rj0sIoL0MrFY9XBtXnWLXbaliYPoEnmd5mHhw5VnIA4AH3s/s1600/Felix_Diane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaypnEWY-6mC_KeJ04ivj8mGei0O9kV8HllUdPGAmHPcsLoJTEGRFgGAI3a5E5LXCG5S-zlj8XJNGttmBd6a21ihOqZPL8rj0sIoL0MrFY9XBtXnWLXbaliYPoEnmd5mHhw5VnIA4AH3s/s640/Felix_Diane.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
<div style="line-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></div>
<span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"> </span><br />
<div style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span></span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" height="200" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" width="200" /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">See</span></div>
</div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"></span><br />
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;" target="-blank"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</span></a></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com16Harare, Zimbabwe, then Salisbury, S. Rhodesia-17.82922 31.053961000000072-18.312957 30.408514000000071 -17.345482999999998 31.699408000000073tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093019155556449576.post-18595241031287408972013-04-22T06:38:00.000-07:002013-04-22T06:38:37.276-07:00The English press record our adventurous trip!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1xEjuBtCwDPoI8nm8YuqeMkSvehR7oeUibDPxUkQGZGTHV9g-H_v33a3VXn2ahGSpeiihHJsuFrGISSGKFyJomO3yK1xd_ux1NGGP4VUgdvKJEIEUbNZl6WDHRB1H9zU3grRmDr59Y9g/s1600/1953BathNewspaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="524" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1xEjuBtCwDPoI8nm8YuqeMkSvehR7oeUibDPxUkQGZGTHV9g-H_v33a3VXn2ahGSpeiihHJsuFrGISSGKFyJomO3yK1xd_ux1NGGP4VUgdvKJEIEUbNZl6WDHRB1H9zU3grRmDr59Y9g/s640/1953BathNewspaper.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I thought that, before I start the story of my life in Rhodesia, I would include this newspaper cutting which was printed in the Evening Chronicle, the daily paper circulated in the Bath area in Somerset, shortly after our arrival in Salisbury.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As it is difficult to read, this is a reprint.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">BATH MAN TELLS OF 8,000 MILES BY CAR TO AFRICA.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>Elephant Gave Them Their Most Anxious Moment.</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After a road journey of nearly 8,000 miles from Bath, Mr and Mrs Donald Beak, formerly of Fiveways Garage, Batheaston, and their two children are now settling down in Southern Rhodesia.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They went there the hard way, driving in their own Land Rover through France, across the Sahara and on through Africa, to start a new life in Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia's capital.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now they are making their home in a caravan which they had sent on to Southern Rhodesia by sea. In their hotel just after their arrival Mr Beak said " We decided to emigrate because of the high taxation in England. We chose Southern Rhodesia because we thought it would be the most pleasant of the places in the Commonwealth, to which we could go.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">WIFE'S IDEA</span><br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Going by road was my wife's idea. We spent six months planning the trip and another six months getting ready. We started off from Bath on Jan 22 - my wife Dulcie, our son David, aged 16 and our daughter Diane aged nine, and myself."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After crossing France they sailed on Jan 29 to Algiers. "On Feb 3, we started what we expected would be the worst patch of the journey, the crossing of the Sahara. It is waste land of every description - mountains and flats, sand and rock, with no sign of life of any kind.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Actually it was not as bad as we had expected. The road is a rough track, but it was negotiable for a vehicle like ours.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"We stopped every so often for water, which was available at wells; there was also petrol at pick up points.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"There is a certain amount of traffic across the desert. Transport trucks supplying the desert villages make a series of patrols and the Foreign Legion forts keep in touch by radio, so travellers are not completely lost."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">THE TRUE DESERT</span><br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"The true desert is the section between Tamanrasset and In Guezzam - 250 miles of soft sand. We got across it in 10 hours and had to dig ourselves out only twice. I got across by simply driving flat out. For long stretches there was no road at all and we had to drive by compass.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"We stayed four days at the hotel in Kano. Here £70 was stolen from my brief case in a hotel wardrobe.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"On the way to Fort Archambault we went through Bongor, the most primitive town we saw on our journey, The natives wore literally no clothes and were still using the disc ornaments which they carry in the lips and ears. Some were carrying bows and arrows. They were though very friendly and brought us a bowl of milk. The roads here were fair, but there were many hazards. We crossed the rivers on primitive native ferries and once we had to make a big detour because a bridge had collapsed.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Once a bridge collapsed under us and we could not get the car free until 60 or 70 natives had come to our rescue.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"We crossed the equator at 6,000 feet and had never felt so cold in our lives. We did not have a 'crossing the line ceremony' because we were not quite sure where the line was."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After crossing the equator, the party had an experience which they will remember for the rest of their days.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Driving along a narrow road we suddenly saw the hind quarters of an elephant - 15 feet away" Mr Beak said. "He turned around, blocked the road, flapped his ears and raised his trunk; it was an anxious moment. "He started to walk towards us. We just banged into reverse gear and drove back 150 yards - and believe me, no car ever reversed so fast!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">WADDLED OFF</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"For 15 minutes the elephant stood and watched us. We thought of all the stories we had heard about elephants in that part of the country over-turning cars. Then the elephant rubbed his back on a tree, turned and waddled off. We decided to make a dash for it. We drove towards the spot where he had left the road - only to find him touching distance away. We just scraped past him racing by so as to give him no time to do anything. It worked - we didn't see any more of him."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Later they heard lions, and saw a leopard crossing the road at night.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">OVER THE BORDER</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When they crossed the border into Northern Rhodesia they felt they "were getting somewhere". By now the miles to Salisbury had come down to 3 figures - all the way so far it had been four.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"We crossed the Zambezi into Southern Rhodesia at Chirundu and drove to Salisbury. When we started the mileage on our speedometer was 5,160; when we arrived we had clocked up to 12,896 - we had done 7,736 miles" Mr Beak said.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">" We didn't have a puncture throughout the journey. We broke three springs, which we replaced, and we replaced a water pump gland; that was all the mechanical trouble we had. To drive to Southern Rhodesia is a good trip for an engineer, but it's no ride for a novice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"And Southern Rhodesia, well here we are now, living in our caravan at Coronation park, Salisbury;. It looks fine - we like it very much. I am going to get a job and look around" he added.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">My Life Before Charente to be continued :-)</span> </span></div>
<span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"> </span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="background-color: #76a5af;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">The section of my life story during our overland trip is published on Kindle if </span>you<span style="line-height: 19px;"> should be interested:-</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span></span><img alt="THE GREAT 1953 TREK" height="200" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51JBxsYd2PL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA278_PIkin4,BottomRight,-58,22_AA300_SH20_OU02_.jpg" width="200" /></div>
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<span style="background-color: #76a5af; color: white;">See</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;"> <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1" style="color: #09a5b8; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;" target="-blank"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://www.amazon.co.uk/THE-GREAT-1953-TREK-ebook/dp/B008KK0KHU/ref=pd_ys_iyr1</span></a></span></div>
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</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div>
Zimbabwehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07279761983880323632noreply@blogger.com16