It seems that the more places I see and experience, the bigger I realize the world to be. The more I become aware of, the more I realize how relatively little I know of it, how many places I have still to go, how much more there is to learn.
Travel changes you. As you move through this life and this world you change things slightly, you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life — and travel — leaves marks on you.
The journey is part of the experience — an expression of the seriousness of one’s intent. One doesn’t take the A train to Mecca.
I was woken up this morning at 5:30 by the blaring of Vuvuzela’s. I got up and was going to write something for this Blog about the judgment of the High Court which found that the Mail & Guardian had the right to access all the information regarding tenders given out by the Local Organising Committee of the Soccer World Cup. A great day for the principle of freedom of information and openness and transparency and all that important stuff.
But I put on my Bafana Bafana shirt and practiced my Vuvuzela blowing instead.
Then I thought of writing about the Human Rights Commission Report criticising the City of Cape Town for not providing proper toilets to the poor and destitute of our City, but discovered Gavin Silber had already said what I wanted to say on the Writing Rights Blog.
Soon the fever will pass, sanity will return and with it my critical faculties. Meanwhile – sorry dear readers – no attempt at insightful and critical analysis of the legal and constitutional issues of the day seems possible. Once the World Cup gets started I promise to return.
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