Journeys
When I was a little girl, there was nothing my father liked better than to go on a trip somewhere, many a school holiday was spent driving down to the coast in South Africa. It was very exciting to get up really early in the morning, pack the little car and set off towards the border. The roads in Africa are long and lonely, except where you get near a little town. I was always fascinated by the horizon ,I would pretend we were heading towards a distant point, but of course we never reached there. The mountains would stretch endlessly in the far distance and we would always play games and guess the shapes of the big fluffy clouds that always looked as if an artist had painted them on the sky.
Of course there was always great excitement if we saw another vehicle. Buses were quite common, they seemed to creak under their heavy loads, smoke belching from the exhausts. They were always packed to full capacity, luggage, bicycles and sometimes even chicken and goats were precariously strapped to the roofs. Whenever we overtook a bus, we would hold our noses to block out the smell of the fumes and wave wildly at all the passengers. They would always smile and wave back at us, there was always goodwill towards your fellow travellers. That also applied to the little children we would often see by the side of the road, their faces would light up into a big grin and they would jump up and down in their bare feet and sun- faded clothes. Sometimes you could see their little huts nestling in the bush and I always used to wonder what it would be like to live in one, just in the middle of nowhere. It always looked so idyllic and tranquil.
The best parts of the journey were always when we stopped somewhere to stretch our legs, we would wander into the coolness of a hotel, and wait patiently for a glass of ice cold coke and maybe a toasted sandwich if we were lucky. Eventually we would reach the border and drive over the huge Limpopo River into South Africa. That was always exciting as well, I was always certain I could spot crocodiles lurking in the water!
Of course there was always great excitement if we saw another vehicle. Buses were quite common, they seemed to creak under their heavy loads, smoke belching from the exhausts. They were always packed to full capacity, luggage, bicycles and sometimes even chicken and goats were precariously strapped to the roofs. Whenever we overtook a bus, we would hold our noses to block out the smell of the fumes and wave wildly at all the passengers. They would always smile and wave back at us, there was always goodwill towards your fellow travellers. That also applied to the little children we would often see by the side of the road, their faces would light up into a big grin and they would jump up and down in their bare feet and sun- faded clothes. Sometimes you could see their little huts nestling in the bush and I always used to wonder what it would be like to live in one, just in the middle of nowhere. It always looked so idyllic and tranquil.
The best parts of the journey were always when we stopped somewhere to stretch our legs, we would wander into the coolness of a hotel, and wait patiently for a glass of ice cold coke and maybe a toasted sandwich if we were lucky. Eventually we would reach the border and drive over the huge Limpopo River into South Africa. That was always exciting as well, I was always certain I could spot crocodiles lurking in the water!
posted by susi at 1:28 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home