It's 8.30 on a Saturday morning. The sun has only just come up, over a miserable morning of rain and cloud and cold here in London.
I flew back yesterday from two weeks in South Africa, where the sun shone in solid 90 deg F heat, and the thunderstorms were nothing like those in the UK.
As always, it takes a while for me to process my feelings into thoughts, and my thoughts into words. I tend to mire myself in emotion while I'm in the experience; in the moment, then mull over it again at length once it's all over, until I can make sense of it, or see a theme or a pattern in it, or understand my own emotion.
I have had a full month off work; which has been wonderful, because by the end of last year, I was exhausted. I felt constantly battered by so many forces and completely unable to sit still for a moment; to catch my breath, to take a break, to contemplate. By the middle of December, it really did feel like I was clinging on my fingertips. Don't know why, other than to say that I seem to have committed myself to so many projects, places and people that I couldn't quite keep all the juggling balls in the air anymore.
So the break has been great for restoring some balance and perspective. I have had time to meet up with friends, to do some expeditions out in the city, to reassess my interests, to catch up on paperwork and to "come back to myself". Don't know how else to express it.
South Africa
I flew into Cape Town International on 6 January; quite impressed with the way the city seems to be gearing up for the 2010 World Cup Football. I spent 4 magical days with my friend G; we travelled from the powdery white beaches of Langebaan Lagoon, to the foothills of Table Mountain in his glossy, glamorous city apartment. We had dinner once more in Kalk Bay, at the most beautiful seafood restaurant in the world, Harbour House. Oysters, prawns, mohito cocktails and a lovely argument with some of the fishermen on the wharf about English Premier League Football, and whether Ferguson is a better man than Morinho. Well, really! Morinho's worth two of that other twat, isn't he!?
I suntanned and swam at Milnerton, Blouberg and Camp's Bay, and overheard a wonderful bargaining session on the beach between a glamorous Dutch woman and a solid, heart-warming Xhosa lady - who so impressed me with her selling skills and grace under pressure, it quite made me proud to once have been a part of her world in some small way ...
If South Africa can produce more of her sort, they will do themselves proud in 2010.
I flew on to Johannesburg on 9 January, and spent three typically turbulent days with my mom and dad. We still fight, argue, make up and laugh in a 40 year-old pattern I can't ever seem to change, or improve on. Then a wonderful weekend with my sister in her stately home, with pool, patio and lapa beautiful enough to be a beachfront hotel. A massive barbecue evening on Saturday saw lamb on the spit, plenty of pool dunkings and water fights, and a chance for me to re-connect with my beloved nephews and their myriad friends. I seem to be some sort of legend among "Da Boyz in Da Hood" - not sure why, but it certainly makes me feel good (big grin!).
My holiday then evolved into an orgy of shopping and suntanning before I flew out on Thursday 18 January. I had a fabulous reunion with the girls from The Mad Biker Commune; which descended into a rather tipsy and tear-filled farewell. Gosh, I cried so much this year - the stewards on the plane had a shuttle running, bringing me tissue supplies every half-hour!
I was really sad that I wasn't able to track down the girl who took my windsurfer, my 1990-2003 journals and my photo albums; sad that I seem to have lost some friends; sad to hear some of the personal experiences of crime; sad that I didn't get to meet up with everyone; and sad that I didn't get to spend enough time with you all.
But I was glad to see how positive and upbeat South Africans are becoming; how committed to the country; how much upgrading is going on; how well everyone is; how happy Zeus and Scooter are ...
I flew back yesterday from two weeks in South Africa, where the sun shone in solid 90 deg F heat, and the thunderstorms were nothing like those in the UK.
As always, it takes a while for me to process my feelings into thoughts, and my thoughts into words. I tend to mire myself in emotion while I'm in the experience; in the moment, then mull over it again at length once it's all over, until I can make sense of it, or see a theme or a pattern in it, or understand my own emotion.
I have had a full month off work; which has been wonderful, because by the end of last year, I was exhausted. I felt constantly battered by so many forces and completely unable to sit still for a moment; to catch my breath, to take a break, to contemplate. By the middle of December, it really did feel like I was clinging on my fingertips. Don't know why, other than to say that I seem to have committed myself to so many projects, places and people that I couldn't quite keep all the juggling balls in the air anymore.
So the break has been great for restoring some balance and perspective. I have had time to meet up with friends, to do some expeditions out in the city, to reassess my interests, to catch up on paperwork and to "come back to myself". Don't know how else to express it.
South Africa
I flew into Cape Town International on 6 January; quite impressed with the way the city seems to be gearing up for the 2010 World Cup Football. I spent 4 magical days with my friend G; we travelled from the powdery white beaches of Langebaan Lagoon, to the foothills of Table Mountain in his glossy, glamorous city apartment. We had dinner once more in Kalk Bay, at the most beautiful seafood restaurant in the world, Harbour House. Oysters, prawns, mohito cocktails and a lovely argument with some of the fishermen on the wharf about English Premier League Football, and whether Ferguson is a better man than Morinho. Well, really! Morinho's worth two of that other twat, isn't he!?
I suntanned and swam at Milnerton, Blouberg and Camp's Bay, and overheard a wonderful bargaining session on the beach between a glamorous Dutch woman and a solid, heart-warming Xhosa lady - who so impressed me with her selling skills and grace under pressure, it quite made me proud to once have been a part of her world in some small way ...
If South Africa can produce more of her sort, they will do themselves proud in 2010.
I flew on to Johannesburg on 9 January, and spent three typically turbulent days with my mom and dad. We still fight, argue, make up and laugh in a 40 year-old pattern I can't ever seem to change, or improve on. Then a wonderful weekend with my sister in her stately home, with pool, patio and lapa beautiful enough to be a beachfront hotel. A massive barbecue evening on Saturday saw lamb on the spit, plenty of pool dunkings and water fights, and a chance for me to re-connect with my beloved nephews and their myriad friends. I seem to be some sort of legend among "Da Boyz in Da Hood" - not sure why, but it certainly makes me feel good (big grin!).
My holiday then evolved into an orgy of shopping and suntanning before I flew out on Thursday 18 January. I had a fabulous reunion with the girls from The Mad Biker Commune; which descended into a rather tipsy and tear-filled farewell. Gosh, I cried so much this year - the stewards on the plane had a shuttle running, bringing me tissue supplies every half-hour!
I was really sad that I wasn't able to track down the girl who took my windsurfer, my 1990-2003 journals and my photo albums; sad that I seem to have lost some friends; sad to hear some of the personal experiences of crime; sad that I didn't get to meet up with everyone; and sad that I didn't get to spend enough time with you all.
But I was glad to see how positive and upbeat South Africans are becoming; how committed to the country; how much upgrading is going on; how well everyone is; how happy Zeus and Scooter are ...
To all of those I didn't get a chance to meet up with again - I'm sorry; don't forget me - because I will be back!
London
It always feels surreal coming back here; trying to understand my own choices. Why do I prefer this place? Miserable, cold, rainy, beloved London? It's so incredibly hard to understand; I can't even explain it to myself. I just do.
So I will remember the small symbol I see each year; in Year One, a snake in a country garden bringing feminine renewal; in Year Two, the whale dying in the Thames bringing life not just survival, and in this - Year Three - a small bird trapped in a kitchen, caught and freed by my sister.
I'm moving on, gaining momentum, breaking into a run, excited by everything the future holds.
Happy to be here, now. Thanks for travelling with me this far!
London
It always feels surreal coming back here; trying to understand my own choices. Why do I prefer this place? Miserable, cold, rainy, beloved London? It's so incredibly hard to understand; I can't even explain it to myself. I just do.
So I will remember the small symbol I see each year; in Year One, a snake in a country garden bringing feminine renewal; in Year Two, the whale dying in the Thames bringing life not just survival, and in this - Year Three - a small bird trapped in a kitchen, caught and freed by my sister.
I'm moving on, gaining momentum, breaking into a run, excited by everything the future holds.
Happy to be here, now. Thanks for travelling with me this far!
1 comment:
Thank you for sharing your journey with us. . . .
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