Going home, leaving home

In Cape Town I look forward to:

My mom's smile
My dad's hug
Tipsy's voice
The wriggling, grunting happiness of two corgi dogs
The fanning tail wave of an old black lab
Driving a real car (yes, that surprised me, too)
Sitting on the patio with a drink (longing, with all my heart, that Vince was beside me, gulp, and he won't be)

Perfect coffee at Melissa's - called a flat white, which might be South African karmic humour
Buying boerewors anywhere
Cashiers in supermarkets who smile and greet you and seem to mean it
Picking flowers from the garden to put on the table
African sunshine
My mother's effortless light lunches

Seeing my old cream bedroom with the long curtains
The sound of birds in the morning
Hadedas yelling as they fly over the house
Tasting the best, red-fleshed figs
Smelling the fynbos on the mountain
Buying the first, muscat-y hanepoot grapes of season

It is a bittersweet trip. I long to share it with Vince, and we just can't this time. We spent a lot of time apart when we first met, separated by this huge continent and a border, and we have been very lucky to spend three consecutive northern winters in South Africa together. So I'll just make the most of it, which is of course not hard to do, lest I sound spoiled. Hunt some stories, take a lot of pictures, and have the pleasure of introducing a friend who has never set foot on the continent to her first taste of Africa.