Ah, But Your Land is Beautiful - Alan Paton

As we walked up the hill to the archives, my head was down in my runner’s stance of ‘taking the hill” when Maura pointed to the sky above us. The clouds had parted to reveal the sun shining on the mountain, and immediately this title from Paton’s book came to mind. This is truly a country of great beauty. That is undeniable. As we walked the isolated beach of Hout Bay yesterday, I shared with Maura the creepy feel it gave me, influenced I’m sure by the township we passed through to get to it, the guard that followed us when we got lost and traversed a private path to a locked gate to the beach in what should have but wasn't a locked entrance to private housing on the beach, the man standing guard as we finally found the public entrance, the trash strewn sand  and the adolescent black boys being chased away from the rocks they were climbing by yet another private security guard. And yet the coast surrounded by the majestic mountains, splattered with fog and sun as it was could be described no other way than magnificent. Ah, but your land is beautiful.

TMI warning … skip to next paragraph….

Thursday morning, or perhaps Wednesday evening, found both of us with gastronomical distress… Maura probably more than me, but of the same variety.. high in the stomach strong pain but without the accompanying diarrhea or vomiting   but certainly fear of both… with both of us wondering how we were going to share the toilet and thinking that the popcorn bucket was once again going to have been a very useful purchase…mine came intensely but in waves with breaks in between and pretty much stopped by morning. When my alarm went off at 7, Maura informed me that we were going nowhere which was when I knew that I was not the only one feeling bad. I hate to say that I was a little relieved. I did not want Maura to have to be caretaking me and mess up her trip. Thankfully, neither of us, (very much thankfully) got very sick. I guess it was a mild virus.. or perhaps the cheese sandwiches we ate that may have been opened more than 3 days ago. They don’t believe in the overdosing of food with chemicals so that they last for months the way we do in America. We were supposed to eat it within three days of opening it. The main thing is that it wasn’t too bad.

By noon the sun had come out and we decided that it would be good for the healing process to get out in it, especially as it was supposed to rain for the next 3-4 days. One thing I have learned, however… they have island weather here. I had a friend who grew up on St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands and they had a saying there.. “You don’t like the weather? …. “Wait a minute.”

I think it is a lot like that here. Weather reports are really just suggestions… Kinda like red lights.

So we got on the Citibus and headed for Green Point to book our Safari. Maura thought the brochure there had sounded cheaper. It wasn’t, but we booked it for Saturday anyway. It’s two hours away and we have to be waiting on our transport at 6:30 am. This means we must go to bed right after Maura’s phone interview for job in Chicago next fall and my medicine. I am going to put the phone alarm next to her ear. I don’t really need it to go off an hour before I need to get up. Thirty something years of having to be at school at 7:30 had trained my body to wake up in the morning… her little two years at West Oak didn’t make a dent in her body rhythms.

Even though the South African winters are nothing compared to Chicago, and not even winter in terms of South Carolina, with no heat and a high humidity, we are getting cold; and Maura did not pack enough warm clothing. So we left our Safari store and went to a sports store looking for something warm for her. It was pretty expensive but had a Pic and Pay next door that had some relatively inexpensive fleece. Maura got two coats and I got a zippered vest (with zippered pockets YEA!) which was really thick and warm and much easier for getting around with my sling. In spite of what my bone doctor said, I will not be off my sling anytime soon… certainly not before I get home and see him again. I am not pain free and feel pretty sure surgery is in my future… not for the bone they originally showed me the picture of but the joint where the collarbone meets the shoulder… let’s just say that it doesn’t move the way it should and any movement sends messages to my brain that this is not a good idea. I also picked up a pair of feetless tights. I very useful item that keeps my legs warm and makes my two pairs of shorts (with the good pockets) usable.

 I thought at this point, a little walk on Queeen’s Beach and a bus ride to the waterfront to check out a trip to Robben’s Island where Mandela was imprisoned for so long and we’d be done.. but Maura had evidently been cured and wanted to return to Hout Bay. I must admit that, barring  the drive to Cape Breton or Pierce, Quebec, it is one of the prettiest drives I’ve ever been on…. In all the weathers we’ve ridden it…. And Jesus Lord, thank you for not having a seizure on some of the roads I have driven with my family in tow. You have been so good to me.

From Hout Bay, we did go to the Waterfront and order our tickets to Robben’s Island for the Monday before our return. I also bought postcards and souvenirs there…preferring to overpay for things that went for a good cause. I went from there to the Sea Rescue booth. I wanted to get shirts for Nicholas and Lydia (matching… for a joke) but they were strangely sized so I had to be content with a visor and key chain.

At this point, Maura decided she was hungry… immediately… but when I suggested pub or fried food might not be exactly the best start to her stomach after no food all day then she got sick again… so we took a taxi home (overpaid for it because it wasn’t metered) and ate toast. I was pretty hungry having felt better earlier than Maura and had yogurt and granola and trail mix, too.. but the nuts inside the m£m’s were not very good and I kind of wish I hadn’t.

We talked to Kerry before bed and heard the saga of the ac. We totally owe Don big time. I don’t think anyone else would have done it. I really do think we should ask him to at least check out what we do in Port St. Joe. It pays to get it right the first time. It was such a mess. I’m glad my daddy never knew. He would have hated it.

Today we got up like good students and are the archives working.. or Maura is working. I am writing this blog… Now I will write postcards and feel very productive and worthwhile….

There is more to tell.. but Maura is really frustrated at my yelling at her computer and we need to chill so that we can sleep before our safari tomorrow