Sunday, January 04, 2009

camping companions

We're back from an amazing few days camping in our most favourite camping place. Just a couple of hours drive from Cape Town, Beaverlac (so named by some home-sick Canadian many years ago apparently) nestles in this valley surrounded by magnificent folded mountains. There's an exquisite 'coca-cola' river (the best description for the colour of the water I've ever heard), lovely shady camp-sites and that priceless feeling of time standing still for a minute; nothing to do but rest and swim and hike and play. Or just rest. Depending on how the mood strikes you.

The cleverest thing we did by far was to camp with old friends who have a 4 yr old son (read: playmate for Frieda) and a 10 yr old daughter (read: minder for Frieda), thus allowing us lots of time to sit in the shade with a beer! Magnificent.

We made 4 different kinds of bread, a bunch of seriously yummy camping meals, we swam in the delicious river, talked a lot of bull and  marvelled at the amount of sausage dogs (dachshunds) there seem to be around these days. We counted at least 11 belonging to fellow campers. Are they the doggie of the moment we wondered?
We figured out that the last time I spent NYE with this wonderful old friend of mine was 1992 (!!) and we had some fun boring our husbands with lots of  'do you remembers' and 'guess what happened to so-and-so'. Good times.
But  the trip was also tinged with sadness. Some other dear old friends of ours seem to be heading for a nasty divorce. They're the first in our extended circle and both have been  close friends for over 15 years. Sadly the details of their separation are sordid enough to require us to pick sides. We've chosen ours but it was only at Beaverlac, a place where we 4 spent many, many wonderful times together, that the sadness of losing the other friend overcame us a bit. We mourned the loss of a friend who's been so important to us both, the connection this person gave us to a specific aspect of our lives and the realisation that there's no going back on this one. This friendship has ended under horrible circumstances, and we've got to try to extract, remember and nurture the good times we all had together, whilst processing the hurt and anger we feel right now. And supporting the partner who's been done so wrong.
Sometimes growing up is hard to do.
 

This is the view as one pops over the mountains back from Beaverlac, back to the world. It never ceases to make my heart sing, no matter what else is troubling it.

2 comments:

Beatnik said...

i've been going to beaverlac since i was 18 and it never fails to ignite my inner hippy! your photos look wonderful!

Fi said...

I am slightly overwhelmed by how beautiful that is.. jealous of your location and need to convince Bill to move to the countryside !

xx