Sunday afternoon is largely spent
hanging out. We play some volleyball, drink coffee with Philipp, Théo pops a
whole apple into his mouth to try and eat it whole, the girls and Léon pull
mattresses out into the sun and take a nap. It is nice and while my body is not
so ready to do the labor tasks any more, I am going to miss being around the
others in the camp. Since about the middle of the week I have grown comfortable
hanging out with everyone and as Philipp and Théo have started calling me an
old man or grandpa, so I take that as they too have gown comfortable with me.
In this respect two weeks is not nearly enough time which makes me glad that I
am spending longer in both Cape Town and Peru.
There is a simple rhythm here that
I am going to miss.
On Monday we pull out very early,
7:30, for the airport and in some ways I think this is good. I am not exactly
sure why we are leaving this early as we don’t fly out until 3:00 pm, but it
leave less time for goodbyes to drag out and become uncomfortable. As I don’t
much like long goodbyes it is good. But I still find it sad driving out of camp
in the truck, passing the landmarks that I have become accustomed to over the
previous two weeks, knowing that it will almost surely be the last time I will
see them again.
Not much else to report other than
the restaurant in the Polokwane Airport is a total 1975 African shag pad.
Mirrors on the ceiling, gold and silver everywhere, all kinds of crazy
furniture and even a BMW 5 series, or half of one anyway, with the plate
Millionaires on it I half expect lines of coke to be delivered with the food.
Total pimp.
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