A 14-hour drive to Cape Town illustrated by words.....
-Smooth sailing, making good time. Sun shining through the glass, air flowing through the slightly cracked windows. A sudden jolt, slowing from 80 kph to 0. Peer out the window to assess the situation and am greeted by a baboon, which so unintelligently ran out in front of us. How many people can say that?! And no, we didn't hit it.
-Squatter township nestled in the mountains: shacks made of brightly colored corrugated tin, cinder blocks, shredded tires and splintered wood. Children in school uniforms, backpacks on backs, shoes holed and untied, walking through the dirt, kicking rocks and leaving trails of dust. Not a care in the world except for how far the kicked rock shall go.
-Field upon field of grapes which will soon become some of the world's best wine. Imagine stretches of green and brown vines, as far as the eye can see, climbing and curling around miles of trellis. The rows full of yellow flowers and dark workers, blanket around shoulders, basket on hip, collecting the gems that will become their liquid gold.
-Magnificent jagged mountains reaching higher than the bus window would allow my sight. Some capped with beautiful white snow, reminiscent of giant cupcakes in the distance. Huge, white boulders piercing the sides of the mountains, creating a climber's paradise. Where there weren't boulders, there were plants, splatters of green, purple, yellow and orange, creating a colorful palette of aesthetic perfection. Miles later, viewing the mountains from a distance I see patches of black, which I imagine to be caves, housing a collection of animals and perhaps a mountain village or two. Also patches of red, which I imagine to be boulders stained by years of rain, dirt and erosion. Finally, patches of white, which can only be jagged boulders or fresh snow, or perhaps both. Back on the mountain road, surrounded by nature's skyscrapers. Boulders over my head, ready to drop at any given moment. Lines, like those of notebook paper, run through the mountain, marking separation between types of stone and layers of sediment. The hours slowly pass as I gaze up, up, up...
-First glimpse of Table Mountain, the monumental landscape Cape Town is famously known for. A hazy, cloudy sky hovers over the mountain; the Table Cloth, as the locals call it. Excitement at our arrival, amazement at the sight. Small in the distance, giant, beautiful, bold at the base. The feeling of safety and protection, comfort and home. A mix of sadness and joy for the upcoming days, the final phase of the trip...
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