Jun 25, 2006

CAPE TOWN, South Africa –  Mist bands the mountains' roots. I stop on the airport tarmac, gobsmacked. But, of course ... in a dry climate, moisture wicks off the low scrublands...

Dawn in Cape Town, after a 14-hour flight. I inhale deeply – dust and saltwater and fynboos, the fine-leaved indigenous flora.

Africa. How I dreamed of this land.

Here, at last, every sight, every scent, arrests me utterly. I grin and grin, punch-drunk on a new continent.

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