Chelsia back in London, ready for the next
leg of the adventure.Ever tried just passing through your home city as a traveller? Weird! Everything seems familiar, but at once remove - a kind of Alice-in-Wonderland sensation. Oxford Street, Bond Street, Marble Arch - all my old familiar tube stops, but something was not quite right about them, and nothing would have persuaded me that I could actually have got out at any of them. Of course it doesn't help hitting the tube at commuter time with an enormous rucksack on your back. I found myself apologising to the suits and enduring the tut-tuts of the seated skirts - and yes, I was taking up too much space in the sardine tin, and no, there isn't actually anywhere else to put my rucksack. The only sympathetic smile I got was from the shaven-headed guy with the plaited, wired-twined Pharaoh beard, who made space for me beside him in the niche next to the door. It was only when he extricated himself to get off at Notting Hill Gate and my rucksack fell over that I realised the smile was actually a grimace!
So now only one more city to pass through before I head for the hot wildernesses; will Cape Town be any different, or will it set a sympathetic tone for my next leg? I am hoping the African wildernesses will have something of the same sense of space, physically and mentally, that the Sarek had, but that there will be a different quality to it. I hope also to encounter more wildlife than I did in the Arctic Circle. I am hoping that I will be able to communicate with some of the indigenous people, the San, whose lovely clicking language I have no hope of getting my tongue around. I am not sure what to expect in terms of travelling logistics - the distances are so huge, the available maps are less detailed and I can't expect European conveniences.
No, of course those are not butterflies in my stomach! I am the one who likes challenges, aren't I?
