Amidst the whirlwind of conversation and marketing relating to the World Cup, I have seen the words “South Africa” on more random objects than ever before…coke cans, t-shirts, posters, bumper stickers and magazine covers.
And there’s a twinge of home-sickness triggered with each glimpse.
South Africa.
Cape Town.
In the words of my favorite hyena from Lion King…”oooh, say it again!”
Oh, beloved Southern Cape. You have captured my heart and we will forever be forced to fork out thousands of dollars and put our lives on hold every few years to come and soak up your beauty. And cry when we have to leave.
Really…you should go.
I took so many {magical} photos of Table Mountain that I’m quite certain it’s impossible to take a bad photo of it. Just look at her in all her majesty! {I didn’t even have to pay those two boys to stand there…it was just too perfect for words!
South Africa.
It’s like music to my ears.
While no longer the words that are embossed on my passport {that would be “Namibia”}, it will always be considered home. I was born in Cape Town and am desperately in love with the cape.
It has been 4 years since I was last home. My hubby and I travelled across South Africa and Namibia for 5 stunning weeks, 4 long years ago. We had been married for 3 years and we felt it was time that he see for himself this ravishing country my family spoke often of. Besides, having met only 3 members of my extended family, I ached for him to know more about who I was, where I came from, and who the stellar human beings I got to call family were.
He completely and utterly fell in love.
{I have ALWAYS wanted to take pictures of these changing rooms in St. James…this was a dream come true. I know, I’m odd like that. Can you say “easily excitable”?}
And while it was hard to return home after gallivanting across the country together in a sexy little VW Polo, we got to bring an extra special souvenir home with us.
We found out we were expecting our daughter shortly after we arrived home.
Cricket. Our love gift from Southern Africa.
We calculated back and discovered our little babe was conceived shortly after we did this {oh stop…I’m not talking about that…that’s a no-brainer!}…
Yeah. We were pretty pumped about how cool we thought we had suddenly become {never mind that we were manipulated by an evil little shirt in the souvenir shop that taunted: fear is temporary, regret is forever}.
Well it’s true. We’re thankful the fear only lasted for the 47 {painfully long} minutes it took to go through the training and wait in line {we were terrified}. The thrill of jumping off South Africa’s highest bridge had our adrenaline surging for days afterwards. And the delightful reward we reaped from shaking our bodies up so severely happens to turn 3 later this month.
Below is the memory we snapped of the salads we shared in Hermanus while deciding to boycott birth control and throw caution to the wind {or at least surrender the reins we thought we were holding to the Guy who figures all that out anyway}…aaaw, aren’t we cute? I had cheek bones, collar bones and a waist line back then. Who knew?
We bungee jumped the next day. The rest is history. {Please note that this is not intended to communicate: “want to get pregnant?…jump off a bridge”. But you knew that already.}
A couple other favs for your viewing enjoyment…
{Seaview Game Park near Port Elizabeth}
{Cape Wine Tour}
{Pilanesburg}
{A view from the Intsomi Lodge in the Alexandria Forrest}
{Kenton on Sea}
{Sitting atop my uncle’s brain-child; the brilliant man behind Going Nowhere Slowly}
Next {memory} stop…Namibia.
Stay tuned.
