Right. So muggins here, in a moment of total, screaming dementia, has agreed to do the Whale Trail. Next week. In five days time. The Whale Trail. A 5, yes F.I.V.E. day hike through the De Hoop Nature reserve. Sleeping in huts. Bringing all your own food. Wearing strange hats and fighting over the bug spray. And stuff.
Ja, ja, I hear you folks say. “Sjoe, Dolcarina, The Whale Trail? Don’t you usually have to book a year in advance? Someone dropped out of a group? Oh man. Lucky, lucky lark lark lark. Spectacular views. Cavorting marine life. More glorious views than you can shake a shaky stick at. I’m so jealous.”
Easy for you to say, folks. You don’t collapse from exercise-induced pleurisy when you walk around the block. You don’t have sweat aversion. Or, for that matter, a perfect funnel effect. You don’t fear laughter and derision as you’re airlifted out of a beautiful nature reserve because your legs have fallen off. Oh no, folks of the raised eyebrows. It’s true, it is. I is unfit. In the most monstrous way. Grannies over take me on the promenade. I’m so stationary in motion that dogs think I’m a fire hydrant (must get rid of that red tracksuit).
Sure, sure, jokes aside. I’ve managed a bit of gym related stupidity in the last couple of months. But what, on god’s green bottle of moonshine, do I think I’m doing, imagining I can manage a five day hike. Sheeesh. You know. Maybe if I’d started on a 5 hour hike, I’d be, like, able to work up to something impressive. But noooooooo, I’m G.I. Jane. I’m a frikkin’ hero. I think I can do a 54 km, “moderate to strenuous” week long marathon of walking.
So, excuse me while I nervously chew my fingers off and step hesitantly into Cape Union Mart to enquire if they’ve got those timberlands in a nice heel.
*Having a “taal” headline week. Don’t know why. It’s just working.
** Apparently the original “oh” can like not to be appearing in “die taal”. Ta Eagle-Eye