Urban Sunrise: When I kissed Madiba's feet...

There is nothing more majestic than a South African sunrise, truly! Everything goes most beautifully quiet, and then the tiniest of orange breaks through at the uttermost edge of the horizon. It is then when you have to look, intently, for just before Apollo starts dragging the sun across the day sky, the horizon explodes in the most beautiful hue of flamingo pink- and you know- a new day has dawned.

It was the Friday of Easter weekend 2014, when we spent the night throwing stones at the dam wall and singing about the South African war heroes’ wives. But as soon as the night painted its pink goodbye we packed the car and headed for the city, Bloemfontein. Golden sunflower fields and small towns with potholes paved our way to the big city while we drove with our arms outside the window, waving to the township children.

We arrived just as the sun was being ushered from its daily throne and we sped through the streets to see its departure from Naval Hill, a small wildlife sanctuary, planetarium and viewpoint of the city. As we stood there, huddled together for the cold, we saw the lights of the city go on, one by one. An urban sunrise. And for the first time, I turned around to face the 8m tall statue of Madiba, glowing in the soft city lights and sat down at his feet. Overcome by the magnitude of the person and the statue, I kissed his feet and thanked him for the South Africa I am able to live in today.

We then drove to a little deli-type restaurant, just off 2nd Avenue. Its patrons were busy laughing and eating in the soft glow that one or two red candles on each of the tables were throwing. Greeting us in three different languages, the waiter offered us some wine from the Robertson Valley, a Pinotage, and we raised our glasses to singing about war heroes’ wives, golden sunflower fields, waving at township children, urban sunrises, Madiba and being South African.