When I left Ireland in May of this year, I left behind a beautiful home near the coastal town of Strandhill, Co. Sligo. I left behind those wild and windy walks along the beach, hair whipping about my face and sea spray heightening the smells of the ocean. I left behind sunsets by the sea with my sister, laughing about nothing and smiling at everything.
On my last evening in Ireland, it was one of those famous wild ones. We headed out to Strandhill and indulged in my final sunset and a 99. We sat on the rocks, wind blowing munching on our ice creams, so pleased with ourselves. I was wrapped up in every layer of wool my wardrobe would offer me. It was total bliss.
I’ve now been in South Africa for nearly 4 months and was feeling a little out of sorts. So last weekend, I headed to the Western Cape. A weekend of discovering Cape Town on my tod and it was brilliant. When I was younger, I always travelled on my own. I had no fear of stepping on to a plane and discovering a new country. I did however, have homesickness. As far away as I go or as close as I am, I always have that inner calling for home. It infuriates my boyfriend to no end but I would never turn my back on where I feel I belong.
I love to travel. That was always the way it would be, growing up with a father who was working in a new country nearly every month. Posters adorned our walls of far away lands and trinkets sat prettily on our bookshelves from places we had never heard of. So when I went to Cape Town, I had this immediate feeling of being at home. Much like when I was in Perth. A small city on the coast. As you walk around, it’s hard not to notice the looming shadow of Table Mountain over the city. The crash of waves and the pull of the tide. The weather was not playing nice when I visited so I hopped in my car and made every day a ‘Sunday Drive’ kind of day. Armed with goodies of all sorts and highways edging on to the ocean, I was one happy camper.
I spent the weekend
eating chasing sunsets along the coast and walking along the ocean. I pounded the pavements at Sea Point nearly every evening and got splashed with roaring waves many times. I ate Melk Terts sitting by the birds at Hout Bay. I scoffed fish and chips in the stunning Camps Bay. I stumbled upon coastal towns named ‘Bantry Bay’ and ‘Clifton’. I even saw a signpost for ‘Landsdowne Racecourse’. It was a magical few days and gave me the lease of energy I have been craving.
P.s I also received some fantastic news whilst I was away. My blog has been shortlisted in the Blog Awards Ireland ‘Best Blog of the Diaspora’ Category. I was over the moon to hear the news (and still am). It’s so wonderful to be given the opportunity to be apart of the brilliant community of Irish Bloggers. Thanks so much!