Who would have guessed!

The bus trip was hellish today... Over crowded, stuffy and driven by a lunatic. It took a dream like resemblance to a bad rollercoaster ride from a failed theme park...

Feeling like a first rate sardine I tried to home in on the thoughts being fuelled by my iPod's shuffle setting. The song Somerset West by CrashCarBurn immediately ran me back to times where I felt in the shoes of the guy walking down Long Street thinking about his youth and being in love. Starry Eyed Surprise took me all the way to school days and matric madness!

The uncomfortable shuffle of commuters fighting the intoxicated bus kept throwing me off - regaining balance punctuated by apologetic smiles is not the best way to let the mind wonder...

What I did realise thought I panted on the veranda after the race to stay dry is that life has a funny way for blowing your mind!

No matter how hard you try to control your life, no matter how planned out you had it or how clear your goals were, life will throw you a curve ball. I don't care who you are, five years ago you would would have never, could never have guessed where you where you right now.

(If you did, you either lead a excruciatingly boring life or possess a discipline that would make Superman proud!)

I had a moment a few days ago; lying in my little boat, alone, happy, lines over the side, in the middle of the ocean. I felt a world away from the hussle and bussle of everyday routine, so far from the worries of everyday life. I had this moment when I realised that I am living the dream.

Five years ago for me: I had just got engaged...
I could be married right now. I wouldn't have guessed!

And five from now?

Memories

Strange things memories. How they flit and float at the edge of your conscienceness, not quite revealing themselves until the most unexpected moments.

At other times you can feel them them flooding back as they find and recognise a sound, song, place or any other catalyst that catch their fancy.

Good memories seem to have a far better shelf life than the bad ones. It seems far easier to pick out the good times than the bad times. Even some of those bad times seem to have gained a pleasant afterglow.

But those bad ones that are still clear and pungent, well I guess they hang around because they know that we can learn a few lessons from them. That is, after all, one of the most important lessons in life: learn from your experiences.

 Above: The day of the wind storm that almost blew us off the mountain. Sleeping bags, jackets and tents were lost. (Trek 2009)

Right: Long Cycles - when the chips were down there was always someone who was willing to give the extra hand (or tow). (Trek 2009)


Below: Pickers drenched in the flood that carried us a bazillion kms down the Breede - how we didn't miss our landing spot is beyond me. (Trek 2007)

A great example of how memories play these games with us is Trek. Now, for those who don't know, Trek is an odyssey undertaken each year by the Grade 9 year group from Somerset College. In groups of about 15, they hike, cycle and paddle for 27 days, over 380kms through the SW Cape.

As one can imagine, the stresses, difficulties and straight awful times are numerous and, at the time, seem back-breaking and insurmountable. This year, for example, out of the last seven days, we have spend five days straight hiking in the rain. Last year we had flooding in the beginning and blistering 27km hikes in the sweltering heat at the end. The moments of being wet, frozen, dehydrated, sunburnt or blistered seem so numerous when on the trail. I won't even start on the food...

Yet, somehow, as time passes so these uncomfortable memories either fade, get turned turned into tales of bravery and success or simply get pushed aside by better memories. It becomes a sunset instead of rain cloud, a laugh instead of a moment of weakness, taking shortcuts rather than getting lost. Its the swimming down rapids, night-time banter, chirps, claims of greatness - all the good things - that stay with us the longest.

Yes, more often than not the lessons from these tough days linger, quite often for the rest of out lives. But normally its the lesson that remains, not the event itself.

And so it works with lessons in life I suppose. It is those life changing moments that without you even realising it keep you smiling, laughing and learning.

                                                                               Originally written at Barrows Farm, Day 8 Trek 2009


Left: Good times - its these that aren't fogotten. (Trek 08)

Farquhar

Right, its done. I’m going Farquahar in December. This sliver of coral and sand, dotted in the great expanse of the Indian Ocean is one of the most sought after fishing destinations in the world. 

It lies about 1200 km off the East Coast of Africa, about 700km South of where I am sitting and writing this. It's 4000km NE of Cape Town... It has a tiny settlement - no more than a hundred people who are involved in a fishing operation.

On the jealous factor its waaaaaay up there. If you’re a fly fisherman and someone says they’re going to Farquahar, its instant upwelling of green that makes you detest the the person. You find excuses why they are below average fisherman and mumble incoherent comments when they address you directly.

At last, I become one the privledged few to walk the desolate corners of this unspoilt atoll...

I can't wait...

Mr Delivery, Island Style

Ah... The buses of the third world....


Public transport in Africa, while generally dodgy to the untrained eye, has never failed to provide a wonderful amount of entertainment and insight into local life.


Thanks to the alternator on my older than old Toyota pickup giving grief, I was back on the buses. My destination was Anse Bois de Rois where I would be joining a few friends for a swim and dinner.


So I bundled up my swim stuff and headed to the bus stop. On Praslin there are only two routes. The route over the Vallei der Mai is the more regular route and and buses run every 15minutes to half hour. The Consolation route - the one I was catching - runs far less regularly! 


So I arrived a little early at the stop and was very surprised when the bus rolled in only 10 min late. I've had buses just not arrive before so this was exciting indeed.


The trip was going pretty normally - lots of crashing into gears, whining of the diff and acceleration on dodgy corners punctuated by heavy braking at every stop...


Then all of a sudden, just past the village of Grand Anse, the bus driver stopped and jumped off the bus and walked down the beach - you could see he was looking for someone. The young French couple across the aisle from looked rather perturbed. No one really cared. Three or four minutes later our intrepid driver arrived back with a bunch of poissons (fish) in one hand and a scruffy looking security guard in the other... 

Turns out the security was a cousin of his who struggles to hold down a job and was meant to be on this bus. And the fish he picked up from a fisherman while fetching his cousin. Much apologising was done by the cousin - not the driver - and we were on our way again. 


It was now crashing into gears, whining of the diff, acceleration on dodgy corners punctuated by heavy braking at every stop and the driver absolutely crapping all over his 'good-for-nothing' cousin. 

But it wasn't over... About five minutes from my stop our driver - now driving twice the normal break speed in an attempt to my up time last by fetching the delinquent cousin - slammed on brakes for a guy with no shirt... 


Now out here shirts are a must for shops, buses and church! So I was expecting some comment from the driver. But no. The shirtless guy, who I now saw had no front teeth either, ran around to the drivers door and handed the driver 120 rupees who in turn gave shirtless toothless guy six beers.


Mr Delivery Island Style. 



I turned to the Frenchies asked whether it was their first trip to the island... They nodded with wide eyes... 

Right...

Its all a state of mind!

I keep saying it... Its become my self indulgent affirmation when things get a bit a tough!

You know; being far from home, friends and familiar places can get one down. Then dealing with inconsequential and frankly idiotic people at work compound it... You know; when you're ready to say screw it and head home or somewhere else, that's when I HAVE to say to myself: "It's a state of mind."

I sometimes throw 'heart' in instead of mind. It is so very true that the heart drives the emotions, and these drive us. So it fits!

Anyway... Writing this blog has been, at best, an erratic errand and I have decided, like all things in my life, it will just take a little reminding and pushing and I'l be a little better!

Although at the moment it feels like I'm talking to myself!

Here some photos to keep me quiet!

Just remember, its all a state of mind...