On the road up - day one

After a terrible nights sleep all sharing the only mattress in the house, we headed off at 07h00. (I don’t want to drive in the dark with the trailer for very legitimate reasons)

Once we had packed on three beds, their mattresses, a small fridge, and some large drums to make our new loo, - there wasn't a hell of a lot of space left for anything else. My tit-of-the day moment was when, exhausted and tired of packing, I decided to have a full blown argument about why my fishing canoe was bloody coming and the kids school stuff could come later. Luckily sanity prevailed (as she normally does)

It was really nice to have the neighbours come out to see us off. Di, you nearly had us in tears.

Thanks to you all for your support. (or could it be that you all threw a street party now that we are gone, with our dogs that bark and kids that play in the garden too early?)

This was us about to leave. The blue fishing canoe is stuffed full of most of our clothes and towels. The back seat is packed to the roof, and the front seat has just enough space for the suppurating and decaying dog. (He looks like something from an Egyptian Mummy movie)

We are over-nighting in the town of Cradock. It is only 850km to get here, which would normally be about an 8 hour drive. But with the trailer averaging about 80km per hour, I got in 12 hours after leaving home.
Stopped alongside the road for a quick wee break.

A 12 hour drive is the perfect way to realise that you have a really terrible music collection.

It was a beautiful clear day, and the roads were nice and empty. Perfect for driving and marred only by Sedgwick (the dog) who continued to pass wind aggressively for the full duration of the trip, while lying regally atop a business class bed.
I really don't know why we keep him. Sonja is convinced I love him too death, which really isn't true. He is a crotchety, demanding bugger.

The trailer is way heavier than it should be so we have to take it really carefully.

Coming down a mountain pass is an experience.
Tomorrow we head off at about 07h00 and all going well we should be at the village by late afternoon.

That is if we survive our hosts for the night.

He has funny short fingers (that make me shudder remembering shaking hands with him) and a very vacant stare. He appears at our room door and stares at us without saying anything.

His nose looks like it has seen half a decade of heavy social drinking. Very creepy. (Old creepy, thankfully, and not strong and deadly creepy)

Sonja keeps teasing me that they are swingers and are going to come knocking at midnight.

Its not bloody funny.

It is a visual that is going to haunt me for months.

And don't blame me, because it is something a blue pill will not fix.