Anyone who has ever encountered this blog will know that road-tripping is my happy place. I love the feeling of getting away and leaving everything behind, the end destination hours if not days away. No worries, no responsibilities, no deadlines. Last year I road tripped five or six times, and this year looks to be no different.
When I write stories set in Cape Town, I love painting a picture for readers who may not be familiar with the city – the blanket of cloud sweeping down Table Mountain, the paragliders slowly descending in circles around Lion’s Head, the graffiti-covered trains snaking into town.
I didn’t really know I was a beachcomber until I discovered a little book called Beachcombing in South Africa by Rudy van der Elst. The truth is I’ve been beachcombing for years and didn’t know it.
Remember when the Wild Child and I road-tripped to the Eastern Cape in April? Well, we did it again over the long weekend in September.
There’s a reason why this is one of our favourite holiday destinations. Several in fact.
The last few weeks have been fairly anxious ones with big changes causing all sorts of disarray in my life. My birthday fell smack-bang in the middle of it all and I was really worried the occasion was going to be undone by stress.
Thankfully, past-Sally seemed to anticipate a weekend of self-care was going to be sorely needed by future me and planned something very special.
Promotional book tours help get the word out once a book hits the shelves. They’re especially important in the first six months after publication, which is generally the period authors become adrenaline-fueled squirrels of activity.
Spending sixteen hours in a car is a grueling prospect. It’s the equivalent of a long-haul flight, except with icky petrol station bathroom breaks instead of having to clamber over the sleeping passenger in the (way too small) seat next to you.
But with enough scenic stops and an epic destination in mind, a long car journey is just the thing.
Continue reading “Road tripping in the Eastern Cape”
Working full time is tough. Not only do I have less time to write fiction, it also means getting up super early every day to the same alarm tone, sitting in traffic, and working long hours that often eats into my personal time. The next thing I know, there’s three or four hours left to make dinner, shower, catch the latest episode of something and then its bedtime.
Free nights and weekends become a game of Roulette. Is the dice going to land on writing, spending time with friends, catching up on chores or taking work home yet again? It can wear you down.
A long weekend away is the perfect antidote.
Living in Cape Town means you don’t have to venture out very far to see breathtaking scenery. It’s a permanent backdrop.
As someone who doesn’t enjoy summer very much (this pale complexion takes years of avoiding the sun) winter is my favourite time to explore The Cape of Storms. The world comes alive, like a dog shaking off its wet fur. Just look outside to see how vivid green the grass has become as it waits expectantly for the rumbling black clouds to release more rain; how the skies are never anything less than dramatic.
It’s so wonderfully gloomy.
Here are some of my favourite places to go when it’s cold outside.
I’ve spoken to a few of my friends about my unusual ancestry, usually during a lengthy evening chat over a glass or two of wine. I’m even writing a book about it.
Recently, I’ve started to obsess about it.