When I got off the plane in Jo-burg, we were driving on the high way. The first billboard I had seen of course, was for Simba’s, South Africa’s brand of potato chips. Then after that I passed another billboard. It read: “When in Africa, Roam.”
Roam [rohm]: Verb. To walk, go, or travel without a fixed purpose or direction; ramble; wander; rove: to roam around the world.
A song/poem I wrote regarding roaming:
Grab my bandana wrap it around my head walk out to the streets
Who know what I’ll do, who the hell I’ll meet
I could climb the mountain walls
The high is so good please don’t ever let it fall
I could plan to go where the ocean breeze sprays water on my face
Who care the sun is shining all over this fucking place
At times it might be a bit overwhelming
But doesn’t that just feel so refreshing
Got my sunglasses on and hop into the taxi
Common mans way so I grab myself a seat
People are all starin’ and feet full of sand
It’s a feeling that only I understand
Grab my guitar and head out to the braai
If I can only slow down time
It was a fun rendezvous
But now we are through
And then I said
And then I said
Its time to pretend
I am not going home again
There are an endless number of things I can do in Cape Town. I feel like I haven’t done nearly what I wanted to. It is soon time to go home. Should I come back to visit? Or are there too many places to go in the world than to come back to the place that I already know and love?
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