Cape Town is far from Bilma.

In the immediate aftermath of my twenty-seventh birthday, I boarded a beaten old public taxi and drove to Park Station in Johannesburg--an infamous location within a notorious city. I found my parents at a local B&B with no problem and we enjoyed catching up while exploring Joburg and waiting for the arrival of my younger sister, Annaliese. Owing to some delays with her international flight, Annaliese was only able to join the rest of us in Cape Town, to which we all flew on the end of my family vacation's third day.

That was the first day that my nuclear family spent together since January 31st 2004. Since it involved considerable timing and sacrifice for my family to join me on the other side of the planet, I made sure to stay clear of internet cafes and I left my computer with the gang (who spent the whole duration of my parent's visit waiting for experts to fix our increasingly fussy, expensive and vulnerable car. Rumor has it that they have succeeded.).

I still have two days to spend with my sister, for whom I intend to continue my internet fast after taking this little half hour to explain my apparent negligence. Once she departs on Saturday afternoon, I will be on my own in Cape Town, waiting for Sean and Mike to cover the fourteen hundred kilometers between Joburg and the Cape of Good Hope. During that time it is my intention to pick up all the slack that has been accumulating behind me and knit it into several blogs and a film festival review. Also, I will be surfing religiously--having calculated that it is, in fact, cheaper to buy a used surfboard and wet suit than to ceaselessly rent them.

Thanks entirely to the chronic, consistently well timed, delightful and exceptional generosity of Eva Tameling, I now possess an used orange and green 6'9" Gun--model of surfboard--made by CCL surf and a 3mm full body wet suit with water proof pajama shoes made by O'neil. Not since my mountain biking days have I been this childishly excited to own a sporting toy. A twenty cent train ride will deposit me at a well frequented beach in a bay that has the highest recorded population of Great White sharks known to man. Apparently, from a helicopter, one can view these death minnows trawling back and forth "like submarines" just 50 meters behind the most distant breaking wave. I also learned that they can discern a human's pulse from a kilometer away and that one great white was known to swim from Cape Town to Perth, Australia, and back in 91 days.

For the last ten months I have suffered more from surfing deprivation than from malnourishment, distemper, invasion of mental space, blister beetle, disillusionment, mosquitoes, paranoia and skin disease combined. Hopefully, by the time my friends catch up with me (they have our telephone, by the way) I will be balanced, driven and glowing. Thanks again to everyone who helped to make this family vacation possible--we all needed it--and thanks to those of you who have simply kept us on the road. Don't be shy. We are happy to receive requests, criticisms, suggestions and abuse. Feedback is food, whether or not we like it.

Thanks for your patience. Don't worry. As soon as my good friends acclimate to Cape Town, we will set out with all due haste to traverse "The Garden Route" along South Africa's south eastern coast, stopping in Swaziland, briefly, before entering Mozambique and getting back into something that acts and feels like Africa.
* posted by Nathaniel at 10:00 AM