After two days in the melting heat on the Berg River, we headed south to Langebaan and drank cold wine in the shade of the trees at the National Park 19th Century headquarters. With a couple of hours before park closing time we headed across the lagoon and across vast white sand dunes to see the tumbling Atlantic waves on the exposed West Coast.
There was a beautifully refreshing cool salty breeze from the spray of crashing waves and there wasn’t a soul around. At the end of the road lay a long sandy beach, dotted with sea birds confused by the two human beings daring to set foot on their deserted beach!
It was surreal to recognise that these Westerly Atlantic waves are from the same ocean that batters the coast of the UK on another side of the planet. I felt very at home here and equally happy that I wasn’t. The ‘associations’ of home are strange, that no matter where you travel you sort of take elements of home with you.