It was a most peculiar journey. That December holiday. A journey without destination. Dirk said to prepare for a camping trip. To pack for a few weeks. We are going on a journey, but without a destination. Nowhere to book. No plans to make. We will go inland, by dust roads. But more than that will spoil the adventure. We packed the rooftop tent and trailer. We baked rusks and biscuits. We were excited. Not knowing what to expect. Not knowing where we are going. Then the day arrived. All bundled in the car at dawn. Moment of silence to ask for blessing on the journey. Then some more asking for guidance. To lead us. To take us on the roads we should go. Take us to the people we should meet. To teach us to trust. To enjoy the ride. To travel lightly. Without expectations. To keep our eyes open to see the moment as it is. To live the moment fully. To embrace this uncertainty. We opened that gate, and Dirk asked: "left or right?" The first decision to make. Nothing laid out. No easy following of a GPS with destination punched in. At every turn we had to ask again. We had a general idea of direction, inland. But the route we had to figure out as we go. We decided to stay on the dust roads. Slower going. No highways for us. There were a few dead ends. Roads that lead to nowhere. To a locked gate. Turning around with trailer on a two wheel track isn't easy... But nothing to do but to turn back. To get back to the place where we took a wrong turn. Look at the map again. Search for a better way. We saw vistas. Stopped for picnic. No Ultra City Wimpy on our road. Provitas and bullybeef taste great on a rock in the wild. And coffee from our Stanley flask. We could take some walks where we stopped. No rush to get somewhere. Not a soul to see. Only us in the wilderness... Some tense moments to find a place to sleep for our first night. Everything at Graaff Reinet fully booked. Had to go on to Nieu Bethesda. And there we found green grass and full shade and rest for a few days... We walked the little town, read under the green trees, ate at quaint little restaurants, had adventures in the mountains after some heavy rains. Built memories... After four days it was time to move on. We were all ready to go. Took the back roads again. Loxton, Fraserburg, Sutherland. Places we have never seen. Roads unknown. At that stage we knew we wanted to get to Tankwa Karoo National Park. A desolate dry piece of land. No-man's land. It was scorching hot in Sutherland. And as we descended into the Tankwa valley, the temperature just ascended. 40, 45, 50, 52 degrees... And my heart started singing, for the vastness around us. The wide open spaces... We were in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by stones and rocks and sand. Nothing alive as far as we could see. And then the trailer broke. Just like that. We started laughing at the heat as we got out of the car. The heat like liquid fluid around us to swim through. The damage to the trailer irreparable. Nothing to do. Unhook it. Leave it there next to the deserted road. All our belongings inside. All our camp gear. What now? Where to get help? We got to a few deserted farm houses. All the curtains closed. No one there. At last we found a soul, his skin a dark yellowish brown, like the landscape. His startlingly green eyes just smiled at us when we asked if it is always this hot, "dis nog nie warm nie, meneer". He directed us to a guest farm nearby. And that is how we met Ricardo. Ricardo hiding from his rat-race life in Cape Town. Hiding in the most remote place he could find. A house on a guest farm in the Tankwa area. Not a soul around. For 3 weeks. Only him. Trying to make sense of his life. To find some meaning. And then on his fifth day, in the middle of the worst of heat, laying in the little movement of air of a fan, trying to sleep through this dead patch of day, he heard a knock on the door. He thought to be dreaming. Here was no-one near. Who could possibly be moving around in this heat, at this hour of the day? He thought it to be a vision, opening the door to six people standing there on his stoep... And that is how our roads crossed those of Ricardo. On that day, in the middle of nowhere. And he took us in. All six of us. Him, hiding from society. Us, on an unknown adventure. And at that intersect we spent three days of sharing. Sharing space and food and company. We were locked in together, because of a storm after all that heat. Some rainy days, to tell stories, to play games, to just be in the living. He who didn't know children, drawn into their conversations and questions and laughter. Hours around a camp fire, musing on life and meaning. Those days were like a blessing to us all. A sense of peace and belonging, knitting us all in. It was time to go home. The trailer carried home on some hired trailer. On Christmas day. With cheese sandwiches at a picnic place somewhere along the highway. Our hearts filled with peace. Our holiday a memory of unexpected things and places and people. Surprises along the way. And we wouldn't want to change a thing. Everything a treasure. Deeply lived in the moment.
1 Comment
Matty
2/18/2017 06:51:44 pm
Uit: "Innie skylte vannie Jirre" van Hans du Plessis
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