Now and Then

Every now and then I get to travel for business. It’s not as glamorous as it sounds, mostly because I don’t actually go anywhere glamorous or vaguely exotic. People I know jetset off to distant lands like Morocco, unheard off countries in South America, Europe; per diem in hand. When I travel on the company, I’m never asked to take my passport. One day I’ll be asked to go somewhere exciting, somewhere I’ve never been before and I’ll be the one to take leave and extend my stay of Hope Springs and feast on new experiences.

Last week, I went to Durban.

Durban. Home of the Zulu, the Gunston 500 (depending on the year you were born), the start or finish of the Comrades Marathon (depending on the year it is) and many, many happy memories of Christmas holidays with Granny and Grandpa. We’re talking late 70s, early 80s. Summer holidays in Durban were a staple of South African childhood – a time when ignorance was bliss. (You know what I’m talking about blankes.)

I was a babble of excitement when I discovered that we’d be staying on The Parade. And bubbled over when I realised that we had an hour to kill before meeting client so that I could take a walk around the Fun Park on the parade. I had been there before – I have the Kodak Moments to prove it.

I walked through clusters of petrified rides, around a splash of turquoise pools and there it was. A tiny seed tucked away in a dusty corner of my memory. It started with a spark and became a steady glow of something visceral, something just beyond my grasp. I had been here before - a time when strawberry soft serve made my day, Tupperware was used for games of skittles in the passage and my brother and I took turns to press the buttons in the lift.

The rollercoaster Rog got sick on isn’t there any more. But, I guess, things change. What thrilled and floored me was how much hasn’t changed. Things I’d forgotten about were still there. And the feeling that my 6-year-old, Elephante’d feet had walked, even run, where I was standing at that very moment was surreal and breathtaking.

The numbers on the bumper cars aren't there anymore.
Seems I loved the colour red from a very early age (something else I don't remember) and I'm digging the Adidas trackie top.

I got me a car, it's as big as a whale...
(Now sans number plate and bumper, but still there!)

I also think these pics are a good indication that I would one day love driving! Okay, or maybe that I always like to be the one in control. And for that, I make no apologies!