Number of nights
away: 6
I am not sure how long it takes to really unwind and
relax. Certainly this holiday felt like
air rushing into our lungs after a somewhat frenzied and stressful period. Going away is a good idea, as everything is
different and new, and the mind can reset and refocus.
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| First night was in Swellendam |
Number of mountain
passes: 27
This may sound like an extraordinary high number, and it
is. This was the holiday of Passes and
at times it seemed our whole world was a series a ups and downs. Well, truthfully, it was. And is.
If I were to create a diagram of the roads in linear form, the ups and
downs would look similar to the graph of TD’s glucose numbers for that week. Maybe there is even a correlation between
high altitudes and high glucose readings.
I will do some research….
Number of glucose
highs: 52
That's is almost twice as many highs as passes....and not good. Long term highs cause damage to the body. It is extraordinarily hard to keep stable glucose numbers on a travelling holiday. Consistency is the key to good glucose control, (eating the same number of carbs, exercising the same amount etc so that insulin can be matched). This road trip, the meals, travelling and excitement all contributed to higher than average levels. It is a good thing it was just for a week.
Number of tyre
changes: 3
Rough roads come with certain possibilities, including tyre
damage. Our first flat was on day 2 in the middle of nowhere (well actually on a single-track dirt road seldom travelled by anyone since the Voortrekkers ). There
were many farm gates to open and close, and TD stood in among a herd of
bulls and told us the back right tyre was completely flat. It was midday, very hot and the road had been
long. But there is no point in getting
upset about something that had already happened. Andrew set to changing the tyre. It was lunchtime, and no destination was in
sight. There was nothing to do but grab
the bread and Nutella and jam from the boot, find the grapes and put together a
make-shift lunch. Diabetes is not a
patient restaurant patron. We always travel
with food, because you never know….
The next tyre change was at the top of the Swartberg Pass. TD raced off to climb rocks, as she always
does when the car stopped long enough for her to jump out. This time the tyre belonged to a young Belgium couple
who looked rather forlorn about their rented car letting them down
(literally). So Andrew changed it for
them while they looked on in wonder.
When we saw them off with a cheery wave, we were not that surprised they had
burst a tyre, as they were driving way too fast and recklessly. We assume they made it to Prince Albert safely.
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| TD disappeared to climb rocks... |
The third tyre change was outside Carlitzdorp on the way
home……
But that wasn’t the end of car troubles. My sister was travelling with her family and
the dog to their holiday when the clutch packed in. Luckily we were in the area. Cars can be needy machines.
Number of pairs of jeans worn by TD: 1
I woefully underpacked in my rush to get away. TD did much better, and had an outfit for every occasion. She had smart striped trousers for our restaurant outings, dungarees for dungarees days, but she chose - and it became a joke- from day 3 onwards - to wear her black jeans for at least some part of every day. They were more like gray jeans by the time we got home....
Number of hours spent
with wobbly legs: 2
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| A magnificent complete stack (when the stalactites and stalagmites touch) |
During supper at a lovely restaurant, Nostalgia, in
Oudshoorn, we were chatting about this road trip and plans for the rest of the
week. We had already done so many
exciting things (the rest of this blog refers). That very day, we had been to
the Cango caves – a magnificent 4km of geological wonder in the Swartberg
mountains. En route to the caves we saw
a zip line adventure, and over supper, by candlelight because of the romance of
load shedding, it seemed like a really good idea to give it a go. And being the decisive people that we are,
Andrew went online and booked right then and there. So that gave me the whole night to fret about
ziplining. The next day I was unsure if I would hold my nerve and actually do
it. As we set off back to the
Cango caves TD and Andrew were both kind,
encouraging and happy to let me work this out for myself. And because of that, I found myself suited up
and listening to the safety instructions.
What a rush. The middle bit (i.e
once you have let go of terra firma, and before you see the wall it looks you
will slam into…) was an amazing, wonderful mid air feeling of freedom. But I felt my legs shaking uncontrollably. And they stayed that way for a good two
hours, even with some medicinal carrot cake and tea. The body has its own agenda, and we should
respect that.
Highest Glucose
reading: 22.2
TDs body’s reaction to the adrenalin rush of ziplining, was to release
glucose into the blood stream. This
caused a soaring high of 22.2. Diabetes
can be a really good educator as to the effect of stress/excitement/strain on
the body, in that the numbers are right there for the reading. My legs wobbled, her glucose soared. Andrew was unscathed.
Number of eccentric locals:1
One of the pleasures of travelling is meeting people on
their home turf. Our second flat tyre
happened 11 kilometers outside Calitzdorp, and just outside an art studio on a
small holding. We were seasoned experts
at the whole bust tyre things, so TD and I efficiently unpacked the suitcases
from the boot, extracted the spare tyre and rolled it to Andrew who was
winching up the car. We were parked on a dust road next to a rustic, wire
covered wall. The wire was Art, recycled
from scrap. The wall had a couple of
pithy sayings on it. One said "Look how far I have come in life to realize what is wrong with me. Thanks to all the people who have helped" . It made me sad that someone
should consider themselves damaged, even if they were grateful to friends for
helping them. Just then, along came a man
in a straw hat and his dog. As his dog
left his welcome scent on the wheel that Andrew was working on, and after this
stranger had kindly offered us coffee, I asked him what the writing on the wall
meant. But he turned the question back
on me and asked for my interpretation. I
sensitively and thoughtfully told him that it dismayed me that he thought he
was damaged goods. Boy, had I got it
wrong!! It was, he said, a sarcastic, contemptuous comment to those people who find fault with others. Umm. Quirky
indeed. And as he was not offended by my
very wrong reading of his sign, he gallantly offered to show us his gallows.
We followed him into his property (through a gate with the sign “Please ring
the bell to avoid being mistaken for an intruder and shot.") And there next to a gorgeous lake, in a
beautiful mountain valley was what he described as his folly – a real
gallows. It was macabre and rather
unsettling. And memorable.
Number of memories: too many to count...
I haven't even started telling you about the Macadamia nut farm we stayed on, or how the frogs sat in the roses at Swellendam, or the crocheted tree decorations in Oudtshoon, or our geocaching adventures, or the wonderful waterfall we found.......
We breathed in deeply, sank into the beauty of the land and refreshed our souls.
.
