Arniston

I don’t go away for the weekend very often. I’ve never been one of those people who does -or, to be totally honest, can – dash away on a Friday afternoon to a sleepy getaway in the middle of nowhere and then come back and rave about how relaxing it was on Monday. My weekends usually consist of a cosy blanket, an indulgent meal and lots of Netflix (or a good book, if I’m feel a bit more ambitious). Occasionally, though, I do get a chance to take a little trip and every time I am reminded of the same few things. Before I get carried away with my metaphysical ramblings, though, let’s talk about the place.

Arniston. A small (it’s literally about 100 houses and a hotel), sleepy, quiet little haven on the South African Coast. It’s only about half an hour away from the southernmost tip of Africa (where we went – I have the crucial proof of a picture) and it is absolutely stunning.The sunrises alone were enough to make the trip worth it. We read, went on gentle wanders, drove through the neighboring nature reserve, stumbled on deserted beaches and had a drink in front of the fire every evening. Pretty perfect, if you ask me. We took the coast road on the way home and got a feel for loads of the little towns dotted along the way. It was laid back, relaxed, and the vast open spaces and stunning scenery did their usual mind clearing magic.

Our view every morning…

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The fishing boats…

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Now that I’m back in Cape Town, I’m taking a second to reflect on the same thought weekend adventures like these always leave me with: my county is so beautiful and I have seen so little of it.

Over the past couple of years, I’ve been lucky enough to travel quite a bit internationally and, over the past year of living in London, I’ve been flying back and forth every uni holiday. It’s been brilliant but it’s got me thinking. We seem to have an, albeit understandable, obsession with international travel. We all want to go to Italy or Spain on our holidays, or visit to LA or New York. I get it and those experiences are, of course, absolutely invaluable. The problem is that our fascination with overseas travel does sometimes mean that we miss the beauty that’s waiting on our doorstep. The weekend getaways. The road trips. The parts of our countries that we never get to see because we never think to go there as visions of the French riviera crowd our minds.

I’ll never stop being thankful for every international holiday that I get to take, or stop wanting to visit far flung places. Thanks to this trip, however, I will be thinking about how I can appreciate where I live more fully. South Africa has so much to offer, and I need to stop missing out on it.

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Me at the Southernmost tip of Africa, with my feet in two oceans…

 

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