Leaving the Cederberg
Wednesday, January 4 was a day of conflicting emotions for me. While I was looking forward to seeing Cape Town and all of its sights, I was desperately sad to be leaving the Cederberg. Those of you who know me well know that there is very little I enjoy about city life, other than good restaurants and perhaps a show or concert. While I knew that my time in Cape Town would be enjoyable, I could not help but yearn to stay in the mountains.
I arose at 4:30 a.m. so as to go on my last walk. The mountains did not disappoint as they lay before me the most spectacular sunrise, ablaze with yellows and reds. As I stopped to rest in my special place and looked across the landscape for the last time, a part of me wanted to stay there in that untouched place where I knew no-one would find me.
After a time I returned to Gecko Creek to say my goodbyes. We loaded up the Jeep and I asked Linton if he would pick me up on the way out as I wanted to walk out the road one last time. On my way, a couple of girls who were staying at Gecko Creek passed me on the road and asked me if I wanted a lift; they seemed to think they were saving me from the terrible walk. I knew from the look on their faces as I declined their kind offer that they couldn’t for the life of them figure out why I wanted to walk and I, for the life of me, couldn’t figure out why they didn’t get it. I continued my walk to the gate where I found a stalk of wild oats to chew on and sat to contemplate the beauty of this place for the last time.
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Morag