Unlike the rest of the order, an adult sawfly is easy to identify because, although it resembles a wasp (see blog of January 2020 for a pic of an adult), it does not have a narrow restriction between the thorax and abdomen like all other Hymenopterans. Regarding larvae like this one, the sawflies have five pairs of prolegs as opposed to the four pairs found on the Lepidopterans.
Another striking difference between the Sawfly and other Hymenopterans is the fact that the female's ovipositor has not been modified into a stinger, instead it has remained as an ovipositor but with serrated edges so that it can saw its way into plant tissue in which to lay her eggs (hence the name Sawfly).
Many Sawflies, however harmless they are, resemble other more dangerous members of the Hymenoptera, like bees and stinging wasps. This mimicry, when a harmless insect mimics a harmful insect, or a tasty insect mimics a poisonous insect, is called Batesian mimicry as opposed to Mullerian mimicry, where a poisonous insect mimics another poisonous insect. or a harmful insect mimics another harmful insect.
The problem with Batesian mimicry is that predators often have to learn which colours mean danger on its prey animals by eating one and getting sick because it was poisonous or getting hurt because it was harmful, only to learn that in the future it will not go near an insect that looks like that again.
So Batesian mimicry only works when the population of the mimic does not exceed twenty five percent of the population of the model because, if that happens then the predators will probably eat the harmless ones as well and decide that not all prey items that look like that are harmful and this will negate the effect of the aposematic colouration (warning colours). A good example illustrating this fact is a species of butterfly, a Common Diadem, where the very edible female mimics an African Monarch butterfly which is very poisonous. The Common Diadem keeps the mimicry low by only allowing the females of the species to mimic the Monarch while the less important male Diadem looks like a completely different species of butterfly.
Anyway, back to the Sawfly: After she lays her eggs within the fleshy parts of leaves or stems, the larvae, who look very much like a worm caterpillar, hatch and chew a hole to the outside world, exit and begin to devour the leaves, usually in groups. The larval stage can last anywhere from a single season to more than a year. That's lots of leaves to devour!
The pupal stage is spent in a neatly woven, silken cocoon. Male specimens in many species are yet to be found, suggesting they may reproduce parthenogenetically, like the female being cloned over and over. This lack of needing to find a mate results in an extremely short adult life span of just over a week. Then, the adult emerges, and the cycle continues.
Another lovely shot sent to me by Dave De Vos from "The Crofts" (unit 19). This time of a Pied Kingfisher, Ceryle rudis, in flight. just after it had alighted from a tree beside the Sharktank (W3) near the hatchery.
Although they are certainly the most widespread and common of our fish-eating kingfishers, they are not very common here because they prefer large, unwooded, slow-moving bodies of water than what you find here on the estate. In fact, they are quite nomadic and are prone to move away when the water levels become too low and if it becomes too cold, and the only time they become sedentary and territorial, is when they nest. And then, they only defend the nest hole and the area directly around it, only until the fledglings have emerged from the nest.
Their diet consists of fish, crabs and aquatic insects and their larvae, which they catch from a perch nearby, called hawking, or by hovering directly above the water and dropping straight down on their prey. They use the latter strategy more because it is more successful than hawking, although it does use a significantly larger amount of energy. They also have a special adaption to help them avoid breaking their necks when they hit the water on a dive: They have solid bone neck vertebrae, unlike the super lightweight aero-like bones that are found in other birds and the rest of the Pied Kingfishers body.
Interestingly, only a handful of birds on the planet can truly achieve sustained hovering in still air, and this is one of them. The others include some hawks, like our Black-shouldered Kite, most sunbirds and, of course, Hummingbirds who have perfected it, even able to reverse while hovering. Many other birds, like our Snake Eagles can also hover, but they require a headlong wind to achieve it. This is the only Kingfisher that can truly hover, though.
A side note: Sunbirds hover on two occasions, when they are slurping up nectar from smaller flowers with no foothold to land, and when they pick spiders out of their webs, which is a common sight.
Pied kingfishers are monogamous breeders (only a single mate), that solicit help from up to four male helpers when nesting. the nest is a half meter to two-meter-long horizontal hole burrowed out from a vertical bank, low down and close to the water surface, excavated by the parents.
The female does most of the incubating while her mate and the primary helper/s provide her with food. The primary helper/s are sons from the previous brood, while secondary helpers consist of unrelated males that could not find a mate, or those that failed to breed. The population of Pied Kingfishers is skewed towards males by a ratio of about 1.8:1, which explains why there is a surplus of males in the system. The cause of this is believed to be because the female incubates and broods in the nighttime, and predation is more common then, mainly by Water Mongoose who dig up the nest, or snakes that slither down the passage. The primary helpers are active from the beginning, while the secondary helpers only get involved once the chicks have hatched.
After about four weeks, the fledglings emerge from the nest hole and immediately begin their foraging training from their parents, while the helpers contribute to feeding them all. The youngsters can already dive for their food within a fortnight, but it takes up to two months for them to become self-sufficient.
Nice one, Dave! And thank you. Please, a request to all members. I am proud to have photos accompanying all of the species (plants, animals and birds at around 1500 species) that I have encountered on the estate. These photos have all been taken on the estate, except for birds! I do not have the camera (even if I did, it would be too bulky for me to carry around during my normal duties) that can take decent photos of birds, so the list I have created for birds is full of copyright-free photos taken off the internet. I would love to have ALL photos taken here on the estate. Dave is and has supplied many of these so far, but there is still over a hundred-and-fifty species that require a locally taken photograph. So, if you have or can, donate your photos of birds. The photo will be credited to you when it is displayed.
What odd-looking thing is this? It is an adult Cicada bug emerging from its pupal case, high up in the grasslands on Mount Prospect.
Cicadas are best known to us by the loud, high-pitched, incessant buzzing sound that the males produce to attract the attention of a potential mate. The females hear this with their tympanal organs (ear-like) which pick-up and analyse sounds, particularly the mating buzz of the males. The males also have these hearing organs so that they can space themselves but must disconnect them when calling because the sound he produces can reach, in some species, one hundred and twenty decibels (a gunshot is around 130db) and that would damage his own hearing.
If you manage to catch one of these bugs, which is quite an achievement, and turn it on its back, it is easy to distinguish between male and female: The female will have a sharp, scythe-like appendage (ovipositor) at the tip of her abdomen while the male will not. Instead, he will have two semicircular plates at the rear underside of his abdomen which cover his sound-producing organs. Both sexes "ears" are situated here in the abdomen too.
The sound-producing organ of the male is, in effect, two separate membranes supported by powerful muscles that vibrate and "pop" the membranes up and down, very much the same as you pressing the bottom of a coffee tin in and out. Most of the remainder of the male's abdomen is hollow which helps amplify the sound. The hollow cavity in the males' abdomen also has folded membranes on each side that can be unfolded and re-folded to adjust the volume of the sound produced and when the bug calls it constantly adjusts the volume, and this helps to create a ventriloquist type of scenario where it is difficult for predators (and curious human beings) to pinpoint the location of the insect, but, strangely, not the females.
Once the female responds to the mating call and mating is complete, she will cut a slit into the bark of a branch or twig and lay an egg within, repeating this process until she has laid all her eggs. After about six weeks, the nymphs hatch from the egg and drop onto the floor and immediately burrow into the ground with their powerful, folding forelimbs. They dig down until they encounter the roots of a plant and then create a little chamber in which they will reside while they puncture the root and the xylem within with their rigid proboscis and suck the juices out. The xylem is the vascular pathway that transports water and minerals from the roots to the rest of the plant.
These Cicada nymphs will reside underground, burrowing from root to root, until they are fully developed. Most species are referred to as "annual cicadas" and their nymphs will spend from two to nine years feeding like this underground before they are fully developed and ready to transform into an adult. But at least two species in North America (and more than likely in Africa too) are referred to as "periodic cicadas" and they synchronise their breeding and egg-laying activities so that the nymphs emerge thirteen and seventeen years later respectively, en masse! This strategy is employed to increase the survival rate of the insect by flooding the "market" with youngsters so that, even with a high predation rate, the survival rate will be adequate for the species' survival.
Also, and this is interesting, it reduces the chances of a specialised predator from evolving because the long time frame between the emergence of the generations is longer than most insects will live, forcing them to find other prey species.
Periodic cicadas or not, when the nymph emerges from underground, it climbs up the base of a tree trunk and secures itself there with its powerful forelegs and then rests. After a while, the skin on the back of the nymph splits open and the adult slowly emerges, wings and all. This is the stage this individual is at in the photograph above. In the photo, you can see that the wings are still all scrunched up. It will need to rest while they harden and gain shape before it can fly away, a dangerous time for the insect! Certainly so, because if I were a hunter-gatherer, I would have slurped it up!
Adults retain productive mouthparts and, instead of feeding underground from the roots of a plant, they puncture the stem of the plant above ground and suck the juices from there. The big rounded "nose", easily visible on the nymph and the adult, houses the pumping muscles that suck the fluids from the host plant.
This, then, is an example of an extremely long-lived insect, as opposed to the Sawfly and the Mosquito above. The insect world is truly variable!
This is a Long-horned Caddisfly, from the Leptoceridae family, that I encountered in a dark and moist piece of forested gorge running from Mount Anderson down to Hidden Valley. It is very exciting for me because it is only the second species of Caddisfly that I have ever seen! The other species, which is relatively common in our area, although easily overlooked, I featured in my blog of May 2019.
The mouthparts of Caddisflies are very underdeveloped, and most adults do not feed at all. The Caddisfly I featured in that blog does eat, and I mentioned how easy it is to identify them by the characteristic s-shaped dance it performs on the substrate while sweeping up microorganisms with its brush-like jaws. Well, this little critter was doing the same dance, which means it must also feed as an adult, unlike the majority of species. Mmmn?
As I mentioned, Caddisflies are very closely related, but more primitive, than moths and butterflies from the insect order Lepidoptera, which means "Scaled Wing". These chaps do not have scales on their wings, but hairs instead, and the name of the Caddisfly order is Trichoptera, which means "Hairy Wing". So, as adults they resemble one another but the mouthparts are different, and the one has scaley wings while the other has hairy wings.
In the larval stage, they differ in a much bigger way. Moths and butterflies have caterpillars, resembling the Sawfly larva at the beginning of this blog. Caddisflies, though, have larvae that may resemble caterpillars, but they are aquatic, living in the crystal-clear mountain streams, and they are usually protected by a silken case covered in well-placed local debris, from sticks and sand particles to chewed off pieces of vegetation. This affinity with fresh water makes these insects good bioindicators, which are species that can be used to measure environmental health, because they are very sensitive to water pollution. Very different from the caterpillars we know.
Although most of us here at Finsbury do know them. Many dry flies are tied to imitate the adults, while wet flies are used to imitate the larvae. Adults are often referred to as "sedges" in fly-fishing parlance, or so I have heard.
Not only has the weather been rather poor for us this springtime, but it was also abnormal at the end of winter. It was extremely hot and dry with banshee-like winds tearing across the mountains. This is perfect weather for runaway fires, and it didn't disappoint!
We were constantly on edge because the fires in the area were so severe, they were jumping fifty-meter-wide firebreaks with ease and causing mayhem wherever they occurred! We helped extinguish two of these fires west of us, in the plots before the reserve.
On two other occasions, we had runaway fires on the estate, and believe me, they were a real battle to extinguish. Each fire was a three-day battle with the second being particularly harsh.
But we survived and, because of all the fires around us, and the lack of rainfall, I have not done any management burns before Christmas like I usually do. I will do a few Patch Mosaic burns later in the season, especially in the south of the estate.
Uh oh, I can feel a bunch of members wondering why I didn't catch this little fellow and ring its neck! It is a young Spotted-necked Otter, Hydrictis maculicollis, which I stumbled upon between the office and my house in the middle of the day. When it saw that I had seen it, it tried to run away, but since they are not well designed for travel over land, I caught up to it quite easily.
I initially thought it must be a baby Cape Clawless Otter because it was so small, but I was dubious because I did not see the white chin and cheeks of the clawless, but did not think further of it till later. I did manage to grab the little blighter, but it tried very hard to bite me, so I released it again and took a few photos before it managed to get itself into the thick bush between my house and the Kliprots river, escaping my clutches. I'm not too sure what I would have done if I had managed to hang on to it, but I did notice that the fur is even softer to the touch than it appears.
When I checked the photos, I saw one thing, in the photo above, that confirmed it was a Spotted-necked Otter, and that was the very visible claw on the pinky finger of the left front foot. Obviously, with a common name like they have, a Cape Clawless Otter does not have claws. this is because claws would get in the way of their fat finger tips as they probe the stream bottom, by feel, for the crabs that form the biggest part of their diet. Spotted-necked Otters, on the other hand, feed more on fish than crabs, and so, sharp claws are necessary to grip the slippery, slimy body of a fish.
Further north in Africa, where freshwater bodies are much more substantial than in South Africa, these otters survive almost entirely on fish around 100mm long and rarely more than 200mm, while in South Africa, where freshwater bodies are much smaller and freshwater fish less numerous, they are forced to supplement their diet with crabs and frogs, especially platannas, which they catch in the water.
Also, north of South Africa, where the freshwater fish are more numerous, Spotted-necked otters live in groups of up to twenty individuals whereas, here, they live singly or in tiny family groups of moms and her two, or maximum three, pups. They also hunt alone here, or if not, it will be a mother teaching her pups to hunt. So, if you see a group together in one of the weirs on the estate, it will more than likely be the more common Cape Clawless otter.
Walking along the Kliprots after one of the recent thunderstorms, I almost stepped on a Distant's Thread Snake, Leptotyphlops distantii, a tiny snake that looks like a metallic earthworm.
These are typical snakes that differ from other snakes only by their diminished size, the fact that their toothless upper jaw is fused to the skull, so that only the bottom jaw moves (like us), and that their body scales are all the same size, whereas other snakes have larger belly scales.
Another difference, which it shares with all other blind and burrowing snakes, is that its eyes are set behind a scale similar to the rest, where most snakes' eyes are set beneath a transparent scale. So, Thread snakes can only differentiate between dark and light.
Thread snakes spend most of their time burrowing through loose soil or leaf litter in search of termite tunnels or paths containing the pheromone trails left by ants. Once located, the Thread snake follows the trail until it finds the colony. It will enter the colony and release a pheromone of its own that has a relaxing effect on the ants, so that they don't harm the snake while it quickly eats large quantities of eggs, grub-like larvae, and the soft immobile pupae, before making a quick retreat!
With termites the snake eats the eggs whole, but when eating the nymphs and adults, the thread snake sucks the insides out from the rear and discards the skin with the sclerotised head.
Very little seems to be known about the behaviour of the snake, otherwise. They are oviparous, meaning they lay eggs, but little else is known about how they find a mate, although it is surely the same as other snakes where the female releases a pheromone trail that the male picks up and follows. It is known, however, that the closely related Texas Thread snake lays up to twelve eggs and coils around them to protect them.
This is only the second Distant's Thread snake I have found on the estate, so it was a very exciting find!
While walking in the grasslands in Hidden Valley, a metallic glint caught my eye from quite far away. On closer inspection, I found this beautiful, jewel-like Furry Grassland Leaf Beetle, Macrocoma aureovillosa, feeding on the inflorescence of a Golden Velvet grass.
Leaf beetles belong to the Chrysomelidae family of beetles (see blogs of Christmas 2021 and May 2020), a massive family of well-over 35000 described species and about the same amount yet to be described!
All leaf beetles are plant feeders, in their larval and adult stages. The female lays her clump of eggs on the underside of a leaf and covers them with her concrete-like faeces to protect them. Once hatched, they munch the leaves of the tree they are born on, very much like the caterpillar of a moth or butterfly (or Sawfly).
Once fully developed, the larva drops off the tree and buries itself in the ground to pupate or, like the species in the article in my blog from Christmas 2021, hangs its pupa from the underside of a leaf. Then, out comes the adult beetle.
This is a striking beetle, but if you check my previous blogs on the family, you will see that they are very different, but all are striking.
A nice close-up of a Citrus Swallowtail butterfly, Papilio demodocus, slurping up the juices from a leopard scat. It is very difficult to get a photo of these butterflies because they almost never stay still for even a moment. Even when perched on the ground like this, they usually flutter their wings continually. This chap, however, was so intoxicated by this disgusting juice it was drinking that it never even shivered while it let me approach to within a few centimeters!
Butterflies eat mostly nectar from flowers but are attracted to the myriad minerals and salts available in liquid form in the excrement of carnivores and herbivores, and also the juices present in carcasses.
Male Swallowtails congregate where there is a concentration of flowers providing nectar, or a carcass or at fresh scats like this one, or on a hilltop and wait for a female to appear. As soon as she enters a male's field of vision, he quickly flies over to her and hovers over her, beating his wings quickly, to secure her from the rest of the males as he gently pushes her towards the nearest surface to land. If she is the incorrect species or she has already been mated with, she will either flee on his first advance, or land and begin to flutter her wings until the male gets the message and flies off.
If she is ready to mate, she will allow him to guide her to land and then let him mate with her, which is quite a prolonged affair and can take up to two hours. Afterwards they will go their own way until the female is ready to lay eggs, when she will begin to seek out the plant species that her larvae need to eat as they develop. After finding these by scent by landing on them and tapping them with her antennae, she will deposit a batch of eggs that will glue themselves the leaf or stem surface, then fly off.
We get another species of Swallowtail on the estate that can easily be confused with this one. It is called the Emperor Swallowtail, and it is South Africa's largest butterfly. The Emperor Swallowtail's markings and colouration are very similar to the Citrus Swallowtail, but the Emperor has long streamers on its wings which is where the genus gets its common name Swallowtail from, and it is larger. The Emperor also prefers forest while the Citrus associates more with grasslands and riparian bush. Their larvae, though, share the same plant and tree species which are mostly found in the forest, so the gravid female Citrus Swallowtail must at least venture there to lay her eggs.
My alien invasive plant eradication team recently brought this Leopard Tortoise, Stigmochelys pardalis, from the Spekboom river to show to me, knowing that I love this sort of thing. I was very excited because in the twelve odd years that I have been here on the estate, I have never encountered one. There was a time about three years ago when I saw a Speke's Hinged Tortoise on the entrance road, close to the railway line (see my blog of Christmas 2021), but that is within a drier bushveld biome.
Strange this, because, according to the literature, Leopard tortoises find themselves at their greatest concentration in the Eastern Cape's mesic grasslands, which are very similar, and share many similar species to our mesic grasslands. South Africa also happens to boast the richest tortoise diversity on the planet with fourteen species present of the forty species worldwide, although almost all of these occur in the Western and North-western Cape.
They make very good pets, as long as one has a permit to keep one, and that one is in it for the long run, because, in captivity, they often live to seventy-five years old and even older! I had one as a pet once when I lived in White River with my wife and child:
One day I was returning from the Kruger Park in an official-looking vehicle, when I noticed I was being followed while driving in Nelspruit. When I stopped, a woman approached from the car with a large tortoise in her hands and asked me to release it into the park. She had bought it from some people on the side of the road and she was trying to do the right thing.
I took the tortoise from her but had no intention of releasing it into the park, because I believed it was too big. I have never seen such big ones in the park and I'm sure it is because, when the spaces for their legs get big enough, predators can get in there and kill the tortoise easier.
So, I took her home and she became my toddler daughter's favourite pet until it nipped her finger while she was feeding it! Anyway, I donated her to the Nelspruit Reptile Park where I received a lifetime pass for it. We reckoned she was between forty and fifty years old then, so she could still be there at seventy plus!
By counting the rings caused by spurts of growth on the shell plates, one can estimate the age of tortoises, and I guess that this one is between 18 and 22 years old. This one is also a male. This can be confirmed by turning the tortoise upside down and, if the plastron (dorsal part of the shell) is flat, it is a female, and if the plastron is concave, it is a male. This shape helps him to hug the female's shell while mating.
Like most other terrestrial reptiles, the female tortoise releases a trail of pheromones for potential males to follow. Often, more than one male responds, and this will inevitably lead to combat, where the males try to push the other away until the loser gives up or is tipped over, a potentially lethal situation if he cannot right himself afterwards. The victor then approaches the female and butts her around until she submits and allows him to mount her.
Once her eggs have developed, the gravid female will find a suitably sunny and well-drained spot with hard soil and urinate on it to make digging easier. She then digs a hole about a foot deep with her clawed and armoured front feet, turns around and lays twenty or so eggs into it. She then covers them up, stomps it down, and flattens it by lifting and dropping her plastron over the area.
Gestation takes about a year (9-15 months) depending on the weather, and females develop at higher temperatures while males develop at lower temperatures (interestingly, with crocodiles this is opposite, with males developing at higher temperatures and females at lower) so, if the majority of the gestation is over winter, more males will hatch, and the opposite for the summer.
When the eggs are ready to hatch, the hatchlings sometimes have to wait, because the ground may be too hard for them to dig out of, so they may have to wait for it to rain to soften the ground so that they can hatch and emerge as tiny little mini tortoises.
This is a photo that I featured in my blog of December 2019, but it was not about the wasp, it was about the little extrusions you see poking out from the wasp's abdomen.
If you know these wasps, you will notice that the bright orange band that usually occurs around the first two segments of her abdomen from the waist, has faded to almost black and she has a strange protrusion from between her third and fourth abdominal segments and another just before the last one.
As I've mentioned in previous blogs, wasps are mostly parasitic, and their activities make good script for horror movies, but it doesn't stop there. In this case the wasp has been stylopised, which means that she is a victim of a horrible parasite from the Xenidae, a family of insects quite closely related to the parasitic flies in the order Strepsiptera.
The two protrusions from the abdomen of the wasp are either adult female stylopids who spend their entire adult lives protruding from the abdomen of their hosts, or male stylopid pupas, that once pupated, will emerge and fly off in search of a female. Or a combination of both. They do not kill the host but weaken it and make it sterile.
When the female stylopid is receptive, she emits a scent pheromone that will hopefully be picked up by a male, which resembles a house fly slightly, but with branched antennae and clubbed forewings as opposed to a fly's clubbed hind wings. The male lives very briefly, less than six hours, so he may not dilly dally as he searches out these pheromones.
Once he finds the female, he must mate with her through an opening on the anterior part extruding from the host, and then he will promptly die. Her young hatch within her, within the host, and eat their mother out from the inside! That's dedication on her side!
These first instar larvae have legs and scramble out of her anterior section and run around in search of new hosts. Once a host is found, the larvae attach themselves and secrete a compound that softens the host's cuticle so that the larva can burrow inside its host's abdomen where they will feed and grow and then pupate, Once the pupal stage is complete, the male flies off for his few hours of adult life and the female remains in her pupal shell for her entire life.
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This is a Common Dotted Fruit Chafer, Oxythyrea marginalis, found on many of the brand-new flowers that came out in the early spring, especially in the burned areas. It belongs in the Scarab family, which has over thirty thousand species and about the same amount still to be described, but in the Cetoniinae subfamily of Chafers or Rose beetles.
They feed on nectar and pollen mainly but will subsidise this with tree sap and the juices from bruised and rotting fruit. On two of my recent hikes with guests, I found them committing floral larceny. Seriously, it is a proper botanical term, floral larceny! It refers to the action of an insect, bird or mammal that bypasses the floral parts of a flower in pursuit of the nectar, that is usually a reward for the pollinators for brushing past the floral parts of the flower. So, in other words, it takes the nectar but doesn't pollinate the flower.
Usually, to do this, the thief has to bite a hole at the base of the perianth to access the nectar. In the case of this beetle, both times it had bitten through the base of the long, tubular perianth of the yellow Long-tube Fire Lily (what I used to know as Ifafa Lily), Cyrtanthus stenanthus ssp. major, a beautiful small Amaryllis that grows prolifically in our grasslands. This flower is much too narrow for the beetle to fit down the perianth, so it was forced to commit larceny. I read that these nectar thieves usually do this as the exception, not the norm.
Besides the larceny, the Common Spotted Fruit Chafer is an important pollinator for many of our flowers, especially our proteas and some of our orchids. Unfortunately, it is also a main pollinator of the Formosa Lily, Lilium formosanum, that beautiful huge trumpet lily that blooms on the estate in late summer. The reason I say unfortunately, is because those lilies are exotic and even slightly invasive, coming originally from Taiwan.
That's it for the spring of 2024. I was supposed to publish this at the end of November, but I had a few technical issues with the site which seem to now be solved (unless the font sizes and styles are all mixed up). The rainfall has remained scarce and sporadic into the first three weeks of December, but, as I write this, we have just enjoyed our first nice rains, soft soaking rains, just before Christmas.
It looks like we will have lots of people here over Christmas, and, although rainfall has been so wrong, the estate is still lush and green, and if this lovely rain keeps it up, maybe the water levels will rise to suitable levels. Please remember that I am available to take people on promenades, walks, drives and hikes over the festive season (always, really). Simply contact me, Jimmy, on the radio or email (jimmy@finsbury.co.za) or, better yet, by WhatsApp (064 523 7058), and we will arrange an outing.
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