The African Journal
On this day twenty years ago, I ran into one of my future teachers in Dar-es-Salam. This was during my first big journey, from Cairo to Capetown.
The year was 1984, about when AIDS broke out and a long time before the Internet was popular. The trip had started as an overland journey with an organised group. When the group split up in the Central African Republic I decided to go on alone. I had seen the desert, but not the jungle or the savanna. I was not ready to go home.
I sent my journal entries home as I wrote them, partly to keep them safe but primarily to let my mother know what I was up to. A low-tech version of a blog, if you want. My proud mum typed up all my entries and sent them off to the publishers, illegible words, typos and all. Unedited. Bear in mind that this was a journal I wrote on the road when I was often sick, exhausted or both and exasperated by one thing or another and you’ll know why I never became a travel writer in my youth!
Yesterday at my in-laws, during a sentimental riffling session through the boxes that contain my youth – now stored on their roof, I found the typed version of the journal again. Here I can finally tell the story of that trip. Edited to be sure. I imagine that it will keep me occupied during many a rainy day in Ard.
The Valley of Eden was a little taster, written from memory but some memories are timeless. Some of these extracts will be worked into future articles but the coherent whole will be on this blog, as a “blog within a blog” if you like, under the “Cairo to Capetown” category. Happy reading.
Tags: Cairo to Capetown, Tag Index
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