Breakfast at an early-morning water hole south of Satara in the Kruger (now part of the Great Limpopo Transfrontier Peace Park). No one else there. Just a sleepy male lion and a submerged hippo.
It may sound odd that some of my happiest memories with the Frenchman have involved driving. Odd because our New York life is almost entirely carless. But these have been the best times. There is nothing better than getting in a car and heading out, away.
A flask of coffee - our espresso pot having perked earlier while I was still sleeping. Milk warmed, sugar added. Rusks packed, or perhaps some potbrood, cooked in the previous night's coals. Getting into the 4 x 4, and seeing where the road will lead us.
And then just sitting there, and looking, and sipping and chewing our breakfast. Nowhere to be.
I, too, love driving away. My childhood summers were spent in the back of our station wagon as my mother zoomed off down the hi-way in search of something more interesting than our sleepy little mid western town.
ReplyDeleteYour last sentence sounds like my definition of heaven (on earth).
That's heaven, right there.
ReplyDelete"And then just sitting there, and looking, and sipping and chewing our breakfast. Nowhere to be." I guess, if you're into that sorta thing! (She says, green with envy.)
ReplyDeleteNancy Mc
Oh yes. Gal after my own heart...
ReplyDelete