My Restless Spirit
I have a restless soul and I am at my happiest when I am in a car, on a train, or sailing the seas. I am not that crazy about planes. Being stuck for hours and not being able to move tends to drive me nuts. But it is not enough of a reason to keep me grounded.
The journey is as much fun as the destination.
In 1963 my father arrived home with our first motor car. I was 8 years old and we lived in Durban. It was an enormous black Plymouth which we named Matilda. I was beside myself with excitement. I literally did cartwheels. Matilda (cars are always girls, I don’t know why) had to be started not with a key but by using a crank handle stuck through a hole in the bonnet.
Matilda had to be big. There was Mom, Dad and 6 daughters ranging in age from 4 - 16 . Dad built a wooden car seat that hung over the backseat for my baby sister, Iris. The rest of us drove our parents mad fighting about whose turn it was to sit next to the window.
Sundays were always the same. Church, Sunday lunch comprising roast chicken and vegetables followed by pudding and custard. Pack the picnic basket and pile in the car for THE SUNDAY AFTERNOON DRIVE.
This was family time and attendance was non-negotiable. My parents had also adopted an old couple living two houses away – Mr and Mrs Murphy a couple well into their nineties. We lived in terror of Mrs Murphy so it was a relief when she went to live in an old age home in Kloof about 30kms inland.
Why am I telling you this? Mr Murphy, a retired lighthouse keeper, needed to visit his wife once a week. Guess who got to transport him there and back each Sunday afternoon? Yes, we squashed up a little bit more and he became our VIP passenger.
We would drop him off and we would go exploring and have a picnic.
My love for travel is deeply ingrained in me.
In 2002 at the age of 47, I broke. It was the most humiliating time of my life. I behaved appallingly and caused my now (ex) husband and 2 sons who were 21 and 18 enormous embarrassment and hurt. Although I have mostly forgiven myself I still sometimes cringe at the memories.
Was it menopause or was it because I was burnt out from work and family responsibilities? Probably a combination. I only realised much later that I was very codependent and that childhood trauma at age 8 had stunted my emotional growth.
I knew that if I wanted to survive, I had to leave my 25 year marriage and find a new path.
A story about resilience and my ability to embrace change.
At the age of 60, on 15 November 2015, I found myself on a long-distance coach taking me with a backpack and almost no money on a journey that would once again change my life. I travelled from Durban to Midrand, a 9-hour journey where I met my son who drove me to the tiny village of Broederstroom in the Northwest Province near Hartbeespoort Dam.
My youngest sister was dying from colon cancer and needed a carer to take care of her.
Please note: I wrote this article way back in 2006, before I was diagnosed with ADHD. It was one of the happiest times of my life. It was published by Business Warriors.
Tourism is a great career for those with ADHD. Every day is different, you meet many interesting people and get to travel to interesting places.
My passion is to be behind the wheel of my HappySnaps Tour bus and show people the wonderful country we live in. This does not pay the bills so I indulge my other passion Technology Training specifically in the area of computer office and accounting skills for small businesses.
