As part of my transit journey of the last 3 years I’m packing up my place in Cape Town, this is a sad event. It’s amazing how much I enjoyed living here and how much space for growth it afforded.
What I found interesting is how many people (friends) seemed disturbed by our choices and are so happy that it will LOOK like I live in Jhb even though I will spending a lot of time traveling. I find that level of investment in other people’s stories so fascinating.
Anyway, I am packing up again and I’m sad, a part of me dearly loves this place. On my way from work, I took the scenic route, I drove down my favorite road surrounded by the blue gum trees and amidst the vineyards (for someone who doesn’t drink alcohol I really love vineyards), I drove past the coffee shops where I did my writing, the gym that somehow made it so easy for me to keep to an exercise schedule, the shops where I could find the healthiest foods (but no decent bananas) , the beautiful view from my bedroom window of the skyline, a great array of family activities , my old neighbors who are just as sad to see me go as I am sad to go, my beautiful furniture I’m selling, the quick drive to the beach through the Durbanville Hills
All these things and many that made up my experience in this part of this journey. I realized I’m grieving for something In spite of what I’m gaining by going back. Jhb is not the same, in a space of 2 weeks I’m sick of the traffic, the lack of parks near my home, the relative lack of safety, and the loss of an outdoor lifestyle. For a period of time this was my normal I need new one.
On the bright side hubby promises I will be back.. And so lives on hope