"Tick! Tick!...Tick!...Tick, tick, tick!" This sharp sound is the bamboo hitting the electric fence and making a "crack" as the voltage is discharged. After three days, the sound was becoming more than irritating; it was grating, jarring, disturbing. The electric fence runs along the back of our property, forming the bottom border of an estate called Rome Homestead. After a few fruitless internet searches and phone calls, I decided to walk round to the house.
There is a small office just inside the automatic gate, staffed by a very polite and helpful security guard. After I had explained my problem, he invited me into his office, showing me the aerial view of the property. I could then point out to him exactly where my property is, and he promised to get the bamboo cut.
"Is this still a guesthouse?" "No, it is the home of just one lady."
She has her own security staff, groundsmen, and housekeeping staff. The latter are transported in their own mini-bus to and from work daily.
The bamboo on my fence, "Tick! Tick! Tick!" was the sound of money...