it is said that "you can never go home", and having been dragged halfway around the world and back again growing up, i don't know that i would even begin to know where i couldn't return to. however, i can go back to the country where i was born. and left. and moved back to. and then left again. which also sounds like a rather familiar pattern in my relationships. anyway. we made the 17 in-flight-hours-not-including-6-sitting-in-transit-at-a-generic-yuppie-bar-in-heathrow honeymoon pilgrimage south of the equator. which gave me plenty of time to ponder which box i wanted to check to identify my profession on the immigration form.
memory is an interesting thing, especially remembering the earlier ones you've forgotten about. landscape became my primary trigger; random mental images of biting into tart apples, sitting in the back of a station wagon, on a family road trip, playing "what's the capital of...?"
africa as a continent truly surpasses north america for it's topography, language, culture, food and dangerous bitey things.
fortunately baboons aren't too particular about whether they urinate in ceramic bowls or on stone walls.
i am not one to take a lot of tedious "scenery" pictures, because people tend to be more interesting- as long as they're not just standing in front of scenery. south africa isn't scenery, as anyone can see from the pictures.
and here's a "people" picture.