Five years ago I began telling people I was pondering a trip to South Africa and every single person I told extolled the virtues of the place and said I would not regret it. So I bought a ticket. And I swear: From then on every single person I told warned me about the crime and violence — so much so that I got very nervous about going.
When I arrived at the airport in Cape Town I quickly found the driver I’d hired to drive me to my hotel and all I saw out the window as we drove was barbed wire around everything and the townships. Everything I saw confirmed my worst fears.
“What the Hell have I done?” I thought.
However, once I was on foot on the ground I began one of the best holidays of my life. I’d go back in a heatbeat. It’s an extraordinarily beautiful place.
Now that I’ve (almost) bought on Gabriola the cautionary advice is forthcoming. I am not concerned. I have followed my intuition all my life. I’m an emotional decision maker and I’ve never ever had a regret. (Well maybe once when I bought the stunning black 1959 Mercedes Benz.)
I’ve never had a proper studio and now not only do I have one, it’s a lovely little cabin in the woods with a woodstove and French doors, power and comfortable amenities.
I rarely mention God here. I’m not sure I know anyone with much of a relationship with whatever God is. But I have always needed one; it’s a product of my upbringing. I needed a protector when my parents weren’t filling that role and I had no sibling; He was available.
I’d been ignoring Him for quite a while because Dr. Shoja took His place. I realized that Tuesday night so I had a chat with my friend — that’s who he is to me: A kind loving and accepting paternal friend. And Wednesday I got the place. I love that. I feel that.
I’m not going to Gabriola alone. I have Leon and I’m expecting.