As I sit here a day before Christmas, rain falling, birds in the feeder right outside my window and a sense of peace and goodwill pervading the atmosphere I am witness to another phenomena about to unfold: Roadtrip 2006. My about-to-be-20 year old son and several of his friends are preparing their Boxing Day Roadtrip that will take them along the garden route and returning to Durban (or should that be Gauteng-by-the-Sea) on the 4th January.
The thing is that the group going (some 7 boys and one unsuspecting Australian lass) have all created some sort of icon of the epic trip. My son’s contribution to this is a mowhawk haircut that is taking place as I enter this blog. I think some have created tattoos and I don’t want to know what others have done. The ‘plans’ are as clear as Suddam’s escape plan and even to call them ‘plans’ is to invite distorting the word beyond recognition. The chances of the necessary equipment accompanying them along the way is at best remote and their combined mechanical skills (should they be needed) amount to …well, less than zero. Mother even offered to show them how to change a tyre – which I might add was rejected out of hand. I suspect they may live to regret the spurned training!
The sense of adventure, good humour, camaraderie and excitement is tangible. And as I sit somewhat wistfully in my armchair observing this lot, there is a part of me that recalls such youthful zest and wonders why more of ‘us’ don’t live life a little more like the Roadtrip 2006. Being all grown-up is I suspect no reason not to! Maybe the start of a new year is the invitation to do just that!
Have a great trip Roadies…and make sure the car comes back intact!
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Fat chance (on the car that is). Can it ever be a story worth remembering or even telling unless something gets mangled that needs one of those urgent calls to dad, or should that be mom (in ‘this’ particular situation)?
Well I know that the bumper is now no longer at one with the rest of the car. But in their defense…it was loose and that farm road proved to be the final staw..um…bolt. My question is not about the bumper…it is more along the lines of ‘what farm road’?!
So it’s the 6th and I’m wondering – are they home? Did they bring the bumper home? Did they regret spurning mother’s offer? Are they still sleeping off the effects of the trip?
Yes, yes, yes and yes again!
My eldest son is within sniffing distance of 11, so I guess I have 9 years to work out how to securely weld my bumper to the car.
Welcome home roadies – hope it was just the first of many exciting trips!