The Griffon

What is it that makes us deliberately and willfully stand in a queue for an hour in order to strap ourselves into a plastic and metal contraption that we know is going to be travelling faster than the human body was designed to go, is being controlled by a pimple-faced college drop-out with a bad sense of humour, and inevitably brings us back to where we started about 2 minutes later? Probably sheer stupidity and the desire to see our ashen faces on a 8" by 11" television monitor, screaming like girls.

This particular roller coaster ride is located in an amusement park called Busch Gardens - Europe in a town called Williamsburg, VA. It is hailed as the world's tallest, floorless, dive coaster. The ride is called The Griffon as it is supposed to swoop down and rise victoriously as an actual griffon may have done. While I am not going to argue the mythological accuracy of naming the ride as they did, I will tell you that it involves being suspended for about 6-7 seconds over a 90 degree drop, subsequently being released to drop down the 90 degree drop for about 75 meters, reaching a speed of 120 km/h and apparently allowing you to experience 4G's of gravitational pull.

Having said that though, it is an incredibly smooth ride and I did not need to change my underwear afterwards. Not everything is bigger and better in America, but they sure do know how to put an amusement park together.

The other personal highlight of my day was the haunted castle ride. Curse of DarKastle is a ride requiring 3-D glasses and nerves of steel. If you have ever been made to feel like a twit, and not for how ridiculous you look wearing 3-D glasses, but for ducking away from computer generated arrows and flying rubble from a castle wall being ripped open by who-knows-what kind of ear-piercingly loud, nerve-wreckingly scary monster, then you know what I am talking about.

And yes, I did scream like a girl, again!

Sunday is great day for football

If soccer is a gentleman's game played by hooligans, and rugby is hooligans game played by gentleman, where does that leave American Football? Who knows, but on Sunday October 7, Andrew and I managed to secure tickets to a NFL American Football game between the Washington Redskins and the Detroit Lions at the Redskins home ground, FedEx Field. For a game that only has 60 minutes of actual game time, it takes about 4 hours to be completed, give or take a timeout or two. Having said that though, the intensity in the stadium was such that it seemed as if the game passed in the same amount of time as a rugby match. Not once in those four hours did the crowd's enthusiasm waiver, not once did the chant of "DE-FENCE" fade, and every time the 'Skins' scored a touchdown the cheerleaders led a rousing chorus of "Hail to the Redskins," the teams war cry-come-team song. The beers were cold, the nachos and chicken wings were hot, at half time the marching band played, and all the while the sun beat down incessantly. All in, a highly recommended day out!

One for my South African audience.

So there I was, cruising through the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History in Washington DC, in absolute awe of some wildlife photography on display in a special exhibit, when I came across the following photo. The photo itself is pretty impressive, you have to admit. A lot of thought went into taking it as is evident from the explanation on the board crediting the photographer. What I would like to know though is which part of the Transvaal exactly was this photo taken?

Overheard one day at the zoo...

Saturday, September 30, saw my erstwhile Australian acquaintance and I, taking a leisurely trip into Washington DC for a spot of zoological research.

Now for those of you who are thinking, "Aha! We knew it! They were checking out the birds again," I would like to point out that the Smithsonian Zoological Park does not have a very impressive bird display. In fact we didn't even get to see any birds, barring one exception, which I will expand upon later.

As with many progressive cities around the world nowadays, Washington DC does not charge entrance fees into museums and monuments. As a tourist on a reasonably firm budget, I appreciate these well thought out, educationally sound policies. However, this does mean that just about anyone and everyone who would like to, can enter these facilities. You can therefore imagine the variety of interesting comments that I overheard from the smorgasbord of visitors while appreciating the animals on display. I have included some pictures to go with each amusing little interlude. I must add, in the defense of the unnamed ignorants listed below, that I am from Africa and have grown up with many visits to game reserves, national parks and a general interest in wildlife documentaries, and therefor have the advantage of some empirical information and experiences.

The first prize winning comment went to a volunteer-guide at the cheetah enclosure. After being asked by an awestruck visitor why cheetahs were endangered, he replied, "Mainly because the farmers in Africa shoot so many of them. The speed at which these creatures can capture a cow is worrying for the farmers, so they have to defend their herds."

Enough said!

Prize winning comment number two.

Little girl says, "Ooh mommy, look at the pretty peacock!"

Mother replies, "Ooh wow, yes honey, isn't she beautiful!"

Firstly, peacocks would be of the male persuasion. Secondly, as the sign slightly to right of this photo states, this is an emu! To digress quickly, the sign also stated that there should have been some wallabies in this particular enclosure. My Aussie mate and I had a good look around and were unable to see any rugby players behind the fence anywhere. We think the sign may have been slightly incorrect.

The rest of the afternoon passed quite pleasantly and I would probably come across as arrogant (if I haven't already) if I were to point out each and every little misinformed comment or statement so I will just add a few more of my favourite pics from the afternoon.

The stuff that urban legends and chain-mail jokes are made of

The following conversation actually happened. A colleague across the hallway from my class was teaching a math class. Keep in mind that we teach fifth grade and that her class is supposed to be the second to top math group in the grade.

Teacher - Please do page 82 #7-8
Kid - How do I know which numbers?
Teacher - It says 7-8
Kid - But what about the ones in the middle? Do I need to do those?
Teacher - Uhhhhhh! - what numbers are between 7-8 that you are wondering about?
Kid - Hmmmmmm..... (actually pondering the question).
Teacher - (Just stared stupidly at her)
Kid - (Finally) Oh there aren't any
Teacher - (Still staring stupidly at her)
Kid - (walks away...)
Teacher - (Still shocked)