Mo's African Adventure

After a lazy morning, Kat an I ventured out on the town. She had a hair appointment that morning so I said I would come along. Her hairdresser’s salon is part of a little mini mall attached to a plant nursery. While she was having her hair done I wandered through the plant nursery which was a great opportunity to see what type of plants they have here. The old familiar standbys are here also: pansies, marigold, snapdragons (although they have a different name here) and impatien. In addition to those, an incredible number of succulents, protea (the national flower) and lilies. Very beautiful.

Once Katja’s hair was done, we set out for the Waterfront where we had a leisurely look around the amazing array of shops sporting everything from shoes to clothing to speciality gift shops. Then a stroll along the beautifully landscaped boardwalk where we picked out a lovely open-air restaurant to have our lunch overlooking the harbour. It was a beautiful day, requiring just a light jacket even down by the water and I couldn’t help but think that if this was winter then I’m in! Beautiful sunshine, blue sky and somewhere around 20 degrees. Can’t beat it.

For lunch – calamari lightly breaded and deep fried, yellowfish with rice and “marrow”. To die for.

A wonderfully relaxing day to start my holiday. Beautiful sunshine, wonderful food, and great company. Oh … and did I mention the wine?

Or should I say, “In the air again”. I am finally back in South Africa after more than 24 hours travelling. The short hop from Toronto to New York’s Laguardia Airport was great however leaving at 6:30 a.m. meant that I left for the airport at 1:45 a.m. and would travel all night just to get as far as New York. Once in New York, the transfer from Laguardia to JFK Airports went fine and soon I was sitting on board the South African Airways 340-600 that would be my transportation for the next 15 and a half hours. That is a loooong time to be in an airplane. Very nice aircraft though. Very roomy and comfortable but the best thing was that it had a camera mounted in the tail which meant you could see down the runway on approach. Tooooo cool !!!

There are lots of things I love about South Africa but there are things I find extremely frustrating as well and Oliver Tambo Airport at Johannesburg proved to be one of them. Despite the arrive of several large international jets, there were only three customs officers on duty which resulted in a one and a half hour process to clear customs. Consequently, I missed my connecting flight to Cape Town. No big deal really. It just meant I had to take a later flight but after more than 21 hours of travelling you just want to get to your destination. Still, walking out of Cape Town International Airport on Friday afternoon made it all worth it.

This time I will stay for seven weeks and enjoy more of the day-to-day life of this amazing country. I have lots of adventures lined up but am leaving my specific itinerary rather open. We will see. I won’t be worrying about anything but sleeping for the first few days! The push to close up the school in three days in preparation for renovations and construction was a challenge. On top of that, an extremely busy personal schedule has left me completely exhausted.

After picking up my rental car I called Ingrid and swung round to pick her up. We went to a wonderful out-of-the way little restaurant with amazing pasta and, of course, wine. We had arranged for Katja to meet us at the restaurant after she finished work and the three of us sat and laughed and caught up. Such special friendships that pick up right where we left off as though I had never been away. Ingrid is off to a workshop this weekend so I reluctantly said my goodbyes to her for the moment. We will make arrangements to get together later in the week.

Off we headed to Katja and Rhino’s apartment. Their friend Andre is staying there while as well and we had a great evening of talking and laughing and … yes … more wine. (Do you sense a recurring theme here?)

Finally after I couldn’t keep my eyes open a minute longer I fell into bed but a pesky cough that I picked up on the airplane proved irritating. Nevertheless, it was good to put head to pillow and soon I drifted off to sleep, happy and content to be back in this wonderful country with these amazing friends.

After I returned from South Africa last time many of you said that I was different, that I had changed. The truth is, I didn’t really change. South Africa had just reminded me of who I really was. She has a way of doing that. South Africa is not an easy country. She is a land full of contradiction and conflict … but she is always brutally honest … and she makes you be brutally honest with yourself.

Some people travel there and appreciate her scenery or her culture or her history. They are visitors just passing through. But for some South Africa is more than a place. There is an energy there that captivates your soul and claims a piece of you. She grabs hold of something within you and anchors you there. When you leave you feel incomplete, as though a part of you is left behind. It cannot be explained; you either feel it or you don’t. And if you are one of the lucky ones that she calls to …

… there is no choice but to answer.

Lack of sleep and my emotional morning meant that by the time I had dropped Sampson off at the train station and found my way to the airport through Cape Town traffic, I had a splitting headache and felt totally crappy. It was not a good way to be starting off my journey and I knew it was going to be a long day … night … day … Nevertheless, I can turn just about anything into an adventure and I was determined to shake off the doom and gloom and enjoy the ride. I took a couple of Aspirin and hoped that I would sleep on the plane, although that would be unusual for me.

For several reasons that I won’t bore you with I had booked a flight back through Johannesburg with a short one and a half hour stop over. Now, normally, a one and a half hour stop over is just about perfect … unless you encounter an overly conscientious airport official who questions whether you are actually the person pictured in your passport because you look so different than the picture. By the time she pulled me aside, grilled me about the who, what, when, where and why’s of my time in South Africa, I showed her enough ID (all of which have pictures of me that look just like my passport photo), and convinced her that despite whatever she might think I was no threat to national security … I was lucky to make my connecting flight to Amsterdam. That was only a harbinger of things to come.

Still feeling desperately sad, I found a quick minute to check my email before boarding. I was absolutely thrilled to find a message from Katja and a message from Monica in my inbox, both of them filled with cheery words and assurances that we would keep in touch. Once again, my friends in South Africa had managed to say exactly the right things at exactly the right time to lift my spirits.

I am always pleased when I find myself seated with interesting people on a plane and it constantly amazes me how lucky I usually am in this regard. This trip was no exception. All of the people I was seated with on all of my flights were interesting but none more so than Francois. This cheery South African who lives near Johannesburg was great fun and we passed the eleven and a half hour flight discussing the social and political history of South Africa. Francois is of French Huguenot descent, yet another example of the cultural diversity of this country. (The French Huguenots fled France by way of the Netherlands due to religious persecution, eventually settling in South Africa during the 17th century.) Very interesting man to talk to and a brilliant conversationalist as I have found most South African men are.

Thursday, August 24 was a really bad day for KLM Airlines. Not sure what was happening with their fleet that day but Amsterdam was plagued with flight delays and my Amsterdam to Toronto connection was no exception. Already a less than ideal connection, the flight was further delayed by several hours resulting in a 10 hour lay-over.

I set out to explore Schipol Airport laughing as I thought of the Tom Hanks movie, “The Terminal”. That is exactly how I felt … as though I was living in the airport, trapped inside the building. If any of you need to know anything about Schipol just ask me. I am sure I discovered every corner of that place, eventually settling in just to people watch. You can learn a lot about peoples’ character when you study them under the stress of travelling. It’s a fascinating study in human nature.

Finally we boarded for the final leg of the journey. Although seven hours is usually a very manageable flight, after already travelling for 15 hours plus a 10 hour lay-over, it would be 32 hours travelling in all by the time we touched down in Toronto and I must admit to being really, really tired. Still, there was one more adventure in store for me.

Now, I’m not sure if it was the fact that this was my second trip to South Africa in six months … or if I just looked suspicious … but for the first time since I was a teenager I was pulled into customs to have a baggage search. Now, you all know that I can be more than a little bit silly from time to time … okay lots of the time … and as is my way, I was enjoying some lighthearted banter with the customs fellow … asking him if I looked like a diamond smuggler, drug dealer, that sort of thing and we were having a few chuckles, but when they brought out the sniffer dog I just absolutely dissolved into fits of laughter.

I’m not sure if it was because I was so tired, or because I was emotionally exhausted, or just the absurdity of it all after 32 hours of travelling, but a funny comment that a friend had made about sniffer dogs at Heathrow airport during the Olympics suddenly came back to me and I laughed until the tears were streaming down my face. Too, too, too funny!!! Finally the guys started laughing too, zipped up my cases and sent me on my way totally convinced I am sure that I was either insane or that yes, I had been smuggling drugs but clearly had ingested the evidence because why else would I be acting so totally silly.

Thursday morning rolled around all too soon. I had been up since 5:00 a.m. having slept poorly, being desperately sad to be leaving South Africa and my beloved Cederberg. I was tired and emotional. I knew it was going to be a very hard day.

Ingrid, as always, was ready with a hug and gentle words of encouragement … not to mention my morning coffee. (She does spoil me so.) As we sat on the porch in that peaceful place, it was inconceivable to me that this was the last time I would begin my day that way for a very long time. For me, time stands still here. There is a timelessness about all of the Cederberg that puts life in perspective for me, that reminds me who I really am, reminds me who I am meant to be. For me, if God lives anywhere on earth, it is here in the Cederberg.

Finally, when I could delay my departure no longer, I said my goodbyes to Ingrid. I cannot write the words to convey my feelings at that farewell. They are too personal. I can only hope that each of you may be so blessed as to have your life touched by a friendship such as ours. I carry her with me always in my heart.

Sampson, Linton’s hired man from Zimbabwe, was catching a ride to Cape Town with me. I usually pride myself on being a fairly well put together person: strong, capable, confident and usually in control of my emotions. I can only imagine what that poor, poor man was thinking as he was being driven down the lane by a strange woman sobbing hysterically.

As I turned left at the N7 and took a last look at this place that has become so important to me, I was overcome with a sense of panic. Not knowing when I will return has left me feeling strangely adrift and disconnected. But what I know for sure is that I will return. I will have to — to collect the part of me that I have left behind in the Cederberg.

Wednesday … My last full day at Gecko and the day John is leaving to go diving on the east coast for a few days. I knew John had made plans to go fishing with friends so it came as a surprise when he said we were going to do the river instead. (I told you he was awesome!) John and I had often said we were going to do the river but between weather and other plans (canoeing got bumped by flying yesterday) it just hadn’t happened yet.

We loaded up the canoe and gear and were off, travelling along the backroad toward Clanwilliam. We put in at a sandy point (see John … I can get in the canoe without getting wet or tipping it over) near the cave and paddled downstream. It was a spectacular day … beautiful blue sky, white Cumulus clouds and the perfect temperature. We drifted along exploring inlets, the riverbank and the wildlife for quite some time.

Now, the thing about canoeing is that there is always just one more bend to see around, one more inlet to explore or one more landmark to reach and today was no different. It didn’t take very long until we had paddled down the river … quite a ways.

We put ashore on a sandy strip bordered by a rocky outcropping which, of course, we immediately climbed. John had packed a picnic lunch which tasted sooooo much better on the top of that rock. We sat and enjoyed the wonderful South African sunshine for a little while before deciding to head back … upstream … a long way.

John has an amazing sense of humour and there were times we were laughing so hard I’m surprised the darned canoe didn’t tip over. I was sure that the truck and trailer would lie around each bend in the river but no such luck. Not wanting to let John show me up, I kept paddling all the time with John sitting behind me making smart remarks about me not being able to carry my luggage tomorrow … something about a lash … and that I wasn’t doing too badly for an old lady.

Finally we rounded the bend that brought the truck into view. Despite John’s smart remarks, I’m sure he was worse off than me as he did a lot more paddling than I did. I had to keep stopping because I was laughing so hard.

Again, John, always prepared, pulled out the lawn chairs and we enjoyed the last sun of the afternoon before loading up to go back to Gecko.

I know that John had planned to get away much earlier for his diving trip and I know that he delayed his departure to take me canoeing and that he gave up his fishing trip so that I would have a special last day. That’s just the way John is. He is an amazingly compassionate man (Sorry John. The cat’s out of the bag.) that takes pleasure in doing things for everyone else before himself. He is a rare find and I appreciated his sacrifice.

It was a very sad trip back to Gecko as I realized that I was going to have to say my goodbyes to John and I didn’t have the slightest idea how to begin to thank him for all of the kindnesses he had shown me. Suffice it to say that he will be missed.

Been there … Done that … Did it again!

I arrived back at Gecko on such a euphoric high after flying that when John asked me if I was game to climb Leopard Rock again I told him I didn’t have to climb it, I could fly up there without an airplane.

A quick change into my climbing gear and we were off. This time (with the exception of John guiding me to a few footholds on the way down) I did it totally on my own.

That’s one of the most amazing things about John. He seems to know exactly when to help you and when to let you sink your teeth into it on your own. Awesome man!

Flying and Leopard Rock in one day. Does it get any better than that ???

I have been sitting here staring at my computer screen for twenty minutes and I am no closer to being able to describe what it meant to me to fly again than I was twenty minutes ago. I know some of you will be laughing at that because I am seldom at a loss for words, especially when it comes to writing.

The one thing that I am absolutely certain of is that flying is an intensely personal experience. I know without question that the feelings it evokes, the meaning it has, will be different for each person and that I cannot possibly find the words to explain. I was almost afraid to fly again. Afraid that it would somehow be different, that it would have lost the magic and wonder of those first amazing flights. But I need not have worried.

Again I was in awe of the gentleness of the Fokker. The feeling that it is part of the sky rather than overpowering it as a commercial jet does. The feeling that you are cradled by the wind rather than sitting in an airplane. The feeling of complete freedom, with no boundaries, no restraint.

Johan took us out over the beautiful Cederberg mountains that have so captured my heart, over fields of wild flowers, cascading waterfalls and magnificent vistas. Flying low over herds of Eland, Springbok and horses. Flying high through spectacular canyons and mountains. Circling home over the impressive Clanwilliam Dam and the meandering Olifants River.

Yes, flying was different this time … but no less amazing. Those first flights had left me overwhelmed by the wonder of the overall experience, unable to separate or even recall the individual elements. I was so totally enraptured with the cascade of emotions they evoked that they seemed almost surreal.

This time was different. With the perspective of time spent reflecting on those early flights, this flight was exactly the opposite. Each element is crystal clear in my memory, each moment indelibly marked on my consciousness and on my heart. But through all of that it remained no less magical, no less wonderous … and I hope it never does.

It is why I don’t take a camera with me when we fly. For me, it will never be about what is on the ground or what I can see …

… it will always be about what I feel.

Monday dawned rainy and gloomy. I decided to go back to the schools that I had visited earlier in my trip as I had purchased an atlas for each school library on my trip to Cape Town and this seemed like a good day to do indoor things.

At Sederberg Primer I was met warmly by the secretary and after chatting for a little while was sorry to learn that the principal was not there that day. I left the atlas with the secretary, expressing to her how much I appreciated the kindness and generosity they had shown me.

I drove across town to Augburg and happened to arrive just at the break time. My unnounced arrival caused quite a stir as many of the students crowded around wanting to know if I was staying for the day. I visited with the group, enjoying their youthful enthusiasm, until the bell sounded to return to class.

Again, unfortunately the principal was not available when I dropped in but I had a lovely chat with his secretary and left the atlas with her. She seemed genuinely touched by the small gesture and wished me all the best as I returned to Canada.

So nice to be remembered at the schools and so nice to feel the wonderful radiance that comes from these beautiful children.

Sunday had promised to be an exciting day as I had made arrangements to fly with Linton’s friend, Johan. We were to go at 9:00 a.m. but the day dawned with a heavy fog cover and it became obvious that flying would have to wait for another day.

Flying was one of the things I had been most looking forward to in South Africa and between the weather and being busy with other things, it just had not been possible so I was disappointed that I had to postpone as my days are running out and the weather is always a factor.

I decided to go exploring to cheer me up and set off again on a backroad adventure over toward Ceres. It is a steep and rugged road with hairpin turns with sheer drops off the side but has spectacular mountain scenery. While it didn’t compare to flying, it served to pass the afternoon which had cleared to a beautiful, sunny day. After a couple of hours I began to make my way back to Gecko, slowly winding my way back down through the mountains.

Citrusdal was a ghost town, being Sunday and everything was closed up. It was eerily different than on any other day when the streets are filled with people milling about.

I was headed along the back road along the river when it became obvious that all was not well. It is a very rough road but even at that the distinctive thumping and bumping of a flat tire was not a welcome sound. Now … I am more than capable of changing a tire, but after already having the disappointment of having to cancel flying that morning, I wanted to just sit down at the side of the road and have a good cry instead. How could a day that had started with such promise end up being so lousy? To my shame I did a sad, sad thing … I called John to come and rescue me.

As I was waiting for John, I unloaded all of my suitcases from the trunk to get at the spare tire. As I pulled out the jack and the spare and began to get things ready, I began to realize how silly I was being and decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and to just get on with it and change the damn tire. I was at the side of the car, probably with a rather perplexed look on my face as I tried to figure out where to put the jack, when I heard a vehicle approaching. I knew it was too soon to be John and looked up to see an Afrakaner couple pulling over to the side of the road to see if I needed help.

Well girls … sorry to say I let you down again when I quickly succumbed to Andre’s insistance that he would change the tire for me. (I have to admit there is a wonderful fuzzy feeling that comes from being looked after by a good man.) In no time Andre had the tire off, the spare on and the vehicle ready to roll again as I enjoyed a lovely chat with his wife at the side of the road. They were from Ceres and were heading home after being away on holiday for a week. After he refused to allow me to pay him anything for his trouble, I extended my hand to shake hands with Andre and thank him. He took my hand and shook it but then proceeded to give me a big bear hug too. I love this country !!! After being assured that I did not need them to stay with me while I waited for John, we exchanged goodbyes and they continued on their journey home.

I had decided to wait for John even though the tire was fixed as I hadn’t been able to reach him on his cell to tell him not to bother to come. I was just as glad to see him pull up because the spare tire was just one of those little emergency tires and not a full sized one. They are only meant to get you a short distance to safety and not really for driving any distance on. These mountain roads are very rough and the recent rains have left them full of pot holes as well so I was glad to have John follow me home just in case.

I had assumed that I would have to go into Clanwilliam in the morning and get the tire replaced. I called the 24 hour emergency number for the National Car Rental agency from whom I had rented the car and the gentleman insisted that their policy was to bring a new car to me and exchange the old car for a new one and that he wanted to do that tonight. I explained to him that I was three hours away from Cape Town and that they would never find this place in the dark but he insisted. He also assured me that the only charge for this was the gas and, as I expected, I would have to pay for the tire. I sure hope he’s right. I would hate to have a big bill over this.

Back at Gecko Creek I settled in to wait. As darkness fell, I became more and more skeptical that the driver would have any hope of finding us in the dark. I mean … it’s dark out here … and we’re in the middle of NOWHERE. About three hours later, the telephone rang and it was the driver asking how far away he was. Talking him here was an interesting exercise given his strong Afrikaans accent, John’s broad Scottish accent, and my total ignorance of the area but, low and behold, with John’s excellent directions he was just a few hundred feet away from the gate. Ten minutes later he was pulling into the yard. A little bit of paperwork to swap out the cars and it was all done. Problem solved.

Oh well. I guess there are bad days even in South Africa. Having had more than my fair share of spectacular days, I was probably overdue.