Die Weskus is die Beskus

Not to sound like a jealous ugly step-sister or anything, but the Western Cape really did get the lion's share when it comes to scenery and shit. You can barely get through a day without your eyes being assaulted by an above average sunset or some attractive body of water.

Our camera cunt visited Langebaan for the weekend and reports back that the situation there is even worse than we realised.

Seeberg viewpoint - West Coast National Park

Langebaan is pretty close to Cape Town down the west coast highway. It should take about an hour and a half, unless you get distracted by gossiping and only realise you've gone too far when the signs for Namibia start. The town itself is small, and seems to exist almost entirely on business from water sports. 

The West Coast National Park is close to town and offers a fuck-ton of scenic views and some lovely bird hides for those that way inclined. We only spent half a day in the park, but left plotting to return in the flower season (August - September) to do one of their 2 day trails.

Flamingos!!

Abrahamskraal cottage 

We ate at Die Strandloper which is a fantastic way to while away the afternoon. You can take your own cooler box of bevvies to enjoy whilst they attempt to burst you with pretty much ALL the seafood and the best goddamn bread I've ever tasted (Tim Noakes can lick my arsehole). Top tip: Take stretchy pants.

Strandloper - Not for those allergic to seafood.

Taking a break to digest.

Flamingos is the sickest jol in town, bru. And for just R40 entrance you can marvel at why there is a bus inside and have your fill of bass, beerpong and plastic chairs. Don't fight it...

Top tip: Bring your own sokkie partner.

The weekend retreat (or regroup)

Sometimes life kicks you right in your stupid face. Everything’s going just swimmingly (or so you think) and you’re backstroking your way to the edge of the pool, when bam! there it is; the kick that sends you sinking ‘til your battered body rests right on the very bottom. Does that mean you’re going to limit yourself to the shallow end of life? Fuck no! You paddle to the steps, take a sip of your gin and tonic, and regroup. We don’t retreat, we regroup and restrategise, and kick life back in its g.d face.

Day drinking with tunes: In praise of the one day festival

So Early Bird tickets for Oppikoppi are one sale already. I think my panties got a touch damp when I first read the email – I fucking love Oppi. I’ve been to many, many festivals, both local and overseas, and for many, many reasons it’s this one that has established itself in the corner of my heart. But festivals require a bit more effort and planning these days. I need a little more than a bottle of apple sours and one tent between seven friends if I’m going to enjoy myself – like gin and a blow up mattress for starters. And this is why the one-day festival is even better than that time I got to correct the grammar of a person who loves to correct people’s grammar.

Pretty places - Cape Town brings it

Cape Town is that hot girl that knows it, and ain't afraid to rub it in yo' ugly ass face.

Fit and you know it.

Oh look, it's VD

We’ve only just shaken off the post-Christmas/New Year blues and it’s suddenly time to celebrate the worst non-holiday that insists on projectile vomming all over our annual calendar like anyone who caught that horrendous bout of gastro that swept through Joburg last month.

Valentine’s Day, like the ‘Super Group’ McBusted, shouldn’t really be a thing – but it is. And we can simply accept that this is the type of world we live in or we can snatch it from the grip of filthy corporations. Say “poo” to icky love songs, chocolates with gross red goo in them, and anything that includes a stuffed animal and hearts, and celebrate VD like a cunt.

The quest for Joburg's best margarita

2015 began with plans of a Dry January. As a concept we like it – until the part with the not drinking. As the month wore on it became achingly apparent that our readers were crying out for a review of the best margaritas in Joburg, and clearly, we were the cunts for the job.

We don't know this guy, but we should.

The Summer Road Trip

A little while back I paid tribute to that classic summer experience and smashed my way across this rather minxy slab of earth with some sweet tunes pumping and the windows rolled down. Just kidding about the last part, we’re talking the Karoo in summer, the windows were closed and the aircon was turned up to the max. But that little detail aside, we were road tripping like it was the summer of love and adventure was on the cards.

Taking a break along the way