A Travelomaniac Trapped in a Students Body

How did I even end up here?

I find myself behind the wheel 1989 mark I Golf, driving down a precariously positioned road on the edge of a thousand foot drop. Only two days ago was I sat at the back of a lecture theatre thinking about potentially going away for a few days.

We're driving in search of a tourist hot spot, a beach full of penguins none the less. Of course we're lost, the road signs are next to useless. We've driven up and down the same road three times - enjoying the spectacular scenery more each time.

Passing a sign for Noordhoek Beach, is it worth a look? Does Noordhoek mean penguins? Who speaks Afrikaans anyway?

The road spontaneously turns into dirt track whilst getting narrower and narrower. We're wondering whether we're driving down someone's very long driveway when the road opens out to the most spectacular view I had ever seen.

I was lifted out of the car , carried possibly by the coastal mist, onto the beach. Looking back at the sleepy artist village, a scattering of thatched houses framed by layers of rolling mountains, there's a handful of residents on the beach. People are having lunch, playing ball games and living their lives. It's a scene from a film, and I'm the star. There's not a penguin in sight, It's million miles away from the place we were looking for, but it's perfect.

I never want to leave, we set up camp for the afternoon.

As I lie on my tourist South African map towel, I look down the beach, I can't believe I'm here. This is South Africa. This is the Cape of Good Hope. This is the life.

I think back to that lecture theatre on a rainy British day. Thank God for flash flight sales and a hugely flexible student life. Who wants to be a grown up anyway?