3
Meredith : 1st Night
By the time Sukey and I have finished eating Johnson and George have the car ready for us to depart. It’s getting on for eight o’clock and it’s almost dark.
“We should leave now,” says Johnson. “It’s a ten-hour journey at best and we don’t want to be traveling in the daylight.”
George removes the chain from around my waist and points at the car. I traipse out with Sukey holding my hand and climb back into our mobile prison. The thought of ten hours in a speeding car in the company of Mbuga and Johnson is mind-numbing. Hopefully Sukey will sleep. It will soon be dark. Maybe they’ll allow her to stay on the seat instead of sitting on the floor.
Mbuga gets in beside us and Johnson takes the wheel again.
As I hoped Sukey falls asleep with her head on my lap. I stare out of the window at the countryside. The beautiful colors of the daytime are fading into gray and black, but the scenery is still spectacular. We pass over a river on our way out of town, the Hex River. Orchards and vineyards line the road. We’ve entered a valley which cuts between two high mountain ranges. It’s dark now, but I can make out their stark silhouettes. They loom over the road on both sides. Suddenly the valley widens out as the mountains veer off on either side. We drive on and on. The lights of a town appear in front of us. We drive on through the town of De Doorns and reach the end of the fertile valley. A sign at the side of the road says Hex River Mountain Pass—Altitude 620m/2034ft. We start to climb. Up and up we go for nearly ten minutes. We level out at the northern end of the pass—Altitude 966m/3170ft. I do some quick mental arithmetic. That’s a climb of over a thousand feet. A steep incline. I wish I could see all this in the daylight. Maybe I shall some day. It’s one more item to add to my list of places I would like to visit.
It’s pitch black now. No moon. Infrequent traffic. The tires hum over the asphalt. Sukey’s sound asleep. Even Mbuga is dozing. I rest my head against the window and wonder if the Captain knows I’m missing yet.