It's been a while

The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live.

Flora Whittlemore (from my KLM in-flight meal box!)

When life knocks you down you can choose whether or not to get back up again.

Karate Kid

Sorry for the silence. I disappeared to South Africa for a week or two, as you do... so here's my catch up. I'm probably going to write it in installments so I can also get some shit done before work tomorrow!

I finished my six-week contract a couple of weeks ago. I was pleased to survive the return to work. It ticked some boxes for me and the timings worked out well. Before I was offered the job, I was stuck in a bit of a rut; looking for this life-changing, meaningful role that I promised to myself when T died. I didn't get any indication of what that might be, and found it increasingly hard to decide what I wanted to do with my life. I think I was putting too much pressure on myself. My counsellor helped me realise that the life-changing bit could come later down the line - it's OK, and maybe even sensible, to have short, medium and long-term goals. The short and medium-term goals may not be your ultimate destination, but they are sometimes a necessary step to getting there. And that's OK. It was a relief to acknowledge that and the out-of-the-blue job offer helped cement those feelings. My colleagues were fantastic. I got leaving cards and presents (including the unofficial Cheryl Cole biography because I sound just like Chezza!) and felt very supported. All in all, that short contract felt like the right thing to have done at that particular moment in time.

My last day was a Friday and on the Saturday I flew out to Cape Town for a short holiday with my parents. (But not before I discovered my washing machine was leaking AGAIN. It was about 8.30pm. I think the taxi was booked for about 4.15am. Not long to sort out a leak in a top-floor flat. I was tired and stressed and had a pre-holiday to do list as long as my arm. My neighbour was in Holland. I thought David, a close friend of the family who lives nearby was in Portugal, and I was blowed if I was going to call that plumber back out. So I'm sorry to say that I was a typical girl and called my Dad 350 miles away and burst into tears. Fortunately he kept his cool and spoke to David (who wasn't in Portugal) who then rang me and sorted me out. I feel lucky to have such kind people in my life. But it did make me wonder what I would have done if David wasn't around. My sister has looked up some women's DIY courses in London for me, so I think maybe I need to enrol for one or two of them so at least I know the basics. I just feel so pathetic and vulnerable and incompetent when it comes to things that T would have looked after. But it's down to me to change that. DIY SOS here I come!)

With the leak issue resolved, I was able to get about three hours sleep before the flight, via Amsterdam, to Cape Town. The 11-12 hour flight was amazingly smooth - no turbulence whatsoever and as it was a day flight, I had good aerial views of Africa. The desert of North Africa fascinated me. It's such a hostile environment, yet there was signs of life down there, with tracks and settlements among the dunes. Then the landscape changed completely as we flew south and it became much greener, with lots of rivers. In addition to my study of Africa from the air, I managed to watch a fair few films, including the new Karate Kid (thumbs up), The Hangover (two thumbs up), Yes Man (possibly too tired to enjoy this one), and similar story with the new A-Team. As we flew over Namibia there was spectacular moon rise. It made me think of T and I knew he'd be so happy that I was making this journey, although I know he'd be gutted to be missing out.

After overnighting at an airport hotel, we left Cape Town and headed up the coast to Big Bay for breakfast. It was a lovely sunny day, hot in the sunshine, and we had great views back across the sea to Table Mountain. I felt very relaxed. We continued up the west coast to a small fishing village called Paternoster where we met some friends of Dad's for lunch at a great little bohemian restaurant called the Noisy Oyster. Sardine fillets for starters followed by yellowtail with pawpaw salsa really hit the spot. It's officially one of my favourite restaurants. I then took control of the wheel and drove us along a very bumpy dirt track to Shelley Point where we checked into the most amazing apartment I've ever stayed in. I had a corner bedroom with floor to ceiling windows that looked straight out to sea. What a view to wake up to in the morning! It was simply stunning. The shoreline there is absolutely covered in shells. They make the most incredible sound when you walk on them. It really was a place to stimulate all the senses. It was fab!

That place was so so good for my soul. Since T died, I've felt strong connections to a few select places. Not necessarily connections to T, just places where I feel at peace and connected and contented and where I invariably leave a bit of my heart. It really feels like when T died, my heart broke into pieces and on this new journey that I'm on, I'm able to leave pieces of my heart in significant places. A bit like scattering ashes. As they tend to be places where T has never been, I don't know if this feeling is more to do with me, or whether, as I know they are also places that T would absolutely love, they are more to do with him, or even to do with us. I woke up quite early those first few mornings and lay in my huge bed (I could lie in either direction on the bed and my feet still didn't hang off the edge!) whale watching. I saw lots of seabirds and some seals but unfortunately no whales. That's how we should all wake up every morning; naturally, and with a view that makes you feel instantly happy and alive and ready to face the day with a big grin on your face.

While we were at Shelley Point I had a nice walk around the bay on my own, just thinking and taking it all in. I also went out for an early morning run. I've never ran on the beach before, or in a more beautiful place. I kept a diary while I was away, just to remind me of things and places. One night I wrote, 'I've been bloody unlucky in losing T, but am so lucky in lots of other ways.' I really do count my blessings. As we were leaving, we spotted blowholes from whales quite a way out to sea. It was just perfect.

From there we had a long drive to the Aquila game reserve near Worcester. That wasn't much to write home about, especially compared to the Masai Mara where T and I spent our honeymoon. There was only one giraffe on the reserve and a couple of elephants, so once you'd seen them, you knew there was no point looking for any more. The cats had to be a separate area so they didn't eat the other animals and they're fed twice a week, so do the lions approach the vehicles in a Pavlov's dogs way, thinking they're going to be fed, or is that just me being cynical? Yes, we saw the Big Five, but two of them, the poor cheetah and leopard, were in small enclosures like you'd see at the zoo. Maybe I went with unrealistic expecations. It wasn't so bad, just a bit disappointing. On the plus side, the food was good and they made an elephant out of a towel! We also had an open fire in our room and an outdoor shower. Having a hot shower on a cold night, under the stars was one of the highlights of my holiday. I've never done that before.

The scenery in South Africa is really varied. A lot of it is dry, barren, scrubland with few trees and plants. Then you come into a really fertile valley, with lots of crops and greenery. It's pretty mountainous too, and there's some incredibly long, straight roads where you don't pass a soul. It reminded me of parts of America (that I've admittedly only seen in films). Then the area around Stellenbosch is completely different again - much more European, with lots of trees and wineries. The Cape Dutch architecture is interesting too. It feels very un-African. We stopped for lunch in a cute little town called Tulbagh. It's got some lovely old houses and a sweet little church.

I found it very strange to be in Africa yet be able to pass as a local - until we opened our mouths we could have been mistaken for white South Africans. My only previous experience of Africa is in Kenya and Tanzania, where white tourists like me stand out like a sore thumb. I couldn't quite get my head around the fact that I could be a white person in Africa and not have 'tourist' written all over me. While there was a certain amount of comfort in this, it was tempered by a great deal of discomfort for me. The disparities between the rich and the poor, and on a generalist level the blacks and the whites, is phenomenal. The affluent areas of SA feel very much like Europe and you forget you're in Africa for a moment. Then you come across a township (always out of town) and the poverty there is indescribable. All the workmen at roadworks were black. Without exception. The foreman was always white, leaning on his 4x4 overseeing the work. Maids were always black. Poor white people must exist in SA, but they don't live in the townships. I found this ongoing segregation hard to comprehend. In comparison to SA, the UK feels much more multicultural and integrated. The upper, middle and lower classes here are made up of all races. I know racism sadly does still exist here, but I really don't think we have such big racial divides in this country. SA really is a country full of contrasts, on so many levels.

Right, enough of my rabbiting for one night. I better do my dishes and get ready for day two of the new job tomorrow. As a slight aside from my SA adventure, I started a six-month contract today. Everyone was lovely, but I was pleased to get day one under my belt. I'm not convinced I've done the right thing by taking on a six-month contract but I have to just suck it and see. And I need to start focusing more on the positives and not the negatives. I received an official complaint about my blog moaning (from my sister) this weekend. It's duly noted and I'll endeavour to get back on to a more inspirational note in future posts.