A journey from the heart of the Forgotten Capital to the outskirts of the Mother City for a thirty-ninth high school reunion of Boesmanland High School in Pofadder, which is nowhere close to either city.

“My darling, do you realise that the speed limit is 120km/h and not 210km/h?”

I looked at my beloved Assie with a sheepish grin on my face — sheepish, because my low flying was wrong, and grinning, because it was exhilarating at the same time.  It happened on a long, clear stretch of the N1 where I was able to overtake three large trucks which seemed to be oddly conjoined butt2bonnet leaving zero space for cars in between them.  I’m afraid that I will not disclose the exact location, lest my writing becomes popular among the traffic law enforcement agencies of the Western Cape and I, unintentionally, incriminate myself.  Rest assured though, no Toyota Corolla Cross has the ability to drive anywhere close to 200km/h unless it’s down a mine shaft!

Throughout the entire journey, I kept a rough tally of all the trucks we had to overtake and it must’ve come alarmingly close to 273 during our twelve-hour journey.  While driving, I was contemplating the specific conviction of a dear friend of mine — that more people might read what I write if I use significantly fewer words.  I have decided to put it to the test using the truck tally.  This reflection will be no more than 273 words long.

The ocean is most definitely my happy place, but the Forgotten Capital is my home!

PS:  It has dawned on me that if one removes the first letter of the Mother City in both English and Afrikaans, the meaning is exactly the same – a twist of cruel irony?

Kaapstad minus K = aapstad & Cape Town minus C = ape town  😃