Travelling Years

Now I am in my non-travelling years, my housebound years, I suppose, I find I have been thinking about our past travels. So I have searched Captain Butterfly's photo gallery and found a couple of photos for this blog.

I have picked one from the Tabletop - the strange and lovely land at the top of Table Mountain.  The other is from the Maldive Islands at sunset.  I loved the islands at night - hot, but without the fierce tropical sun, and so quiet, apart from the sound of the waves - the sound of eternity. And there was the smell of blossom everywhere. I tried to do the beauty of it some justice in Waiting for Gordo.

I am glad we were able to do our travelling back then, because things were not so crowded, and flying was not as difficult and stressful as it became.  In our last travelling years, you had to arrive so early at the airport, and go through so much security - all of it absolutely necessary of course - that I was exhausted before we even started.  

I can remember when it was just that bit more informal, more relaxed. 

For example, on my one and only trip to Africa - South Africa, after apartheid - just as we lifted off from Jo'burg on our way to The Cape, the pilot of our plane told us the time we would be arriving in Harare, He then laughed heartily at the panic of those of us not used to his style, as we all assumed we had got on the wrong plane, and realised it was too late to get off - without a parachute anyway!

The staff then sang what was apparently a rude song (in Africaans) to welcome a family travelling with us who were moving from Jo'burg to The Cape. It was a jolly journey. And the pilot got us there safely and to time.

On another flight to the Maldives - Air Transylvania(?)  - before The Wall came down anyway - one of our party of divers, the prettiest American wife, was actually at the controls of our plane at one stage. You could see her in the cabin driving it while the pilot had his feet up reading his newspaper.   While I would like to think they had autopilot, I don't know. It was a very small plane.  But the pilot and the diver got us there safely and on time. And who could ask for more?

I did not worry about flying in those days. But I would now.  The older I get the more fragile and the more wonderful life seems.

And we got to see some places before they filled up - like Chiang Mai for example. It was not a tourist hotspot when we stayed at the old British Embassy (then owned by our Thai friend's company). We had it to ourselves, apart from the staff, who cooked us a lovely breakfast every morning. We pretty much had beautiful Chiang Mai to ourselves too.

And we got just a glimpse of the old city - no more than that I guess - on our first visit to Bangkok in that the roads were not yet choked with traffic. We could wander down the Soi our friends lived on and watch birds and butterflies, and the waffle man could drive his cart to their backdoor so we could have fresh waffles for breakfast.  On every subsequent visit, Bangkok - including the little lane they lived on - was as choked with traffic as every other city is now.

Of course, it is tourists like us who help to cause all this - yet we are needed for economic reasons - which is the central dilemma of Waiting for Gordo.

There are many places I would have loved to have seen of course. and never did.  And I had hoped we could travel round the UK quite a lot in our retirement...  However, IF we "inherit the earth" as Jesus promised, we will have all the time in the world. And who knows where we might go and what we might see then? There is an immense, ever-expanding universe out there.

But we do need to be meek - not meek as in a character trait, but meek towards our Creator, Jehovah, prepared to seek for him, to find him, and to be guided and moulded by him.  He will help us every step of the way.

Today is my Zoom day - two double Zoom sessions with friends, one a.m., one p.m.  We had our usual Zoom family get togethers on Monday, and all seems well.  On Tuesday, we travelled to Rustington, to do our fruit and veggie shop - no plane journey involved, just a pretty drive past a rather grey and swirly English Channel. The daffodils are everywhere - valiant creatures.  And isn't each one of them a miracle of beauty and engineering?  How often do we stop and thank their Creator, Jehovah, for them, for all the beauty he has made for us, and for all the beauty he will make for us?