My travelling companion and I were driving through the Southern Cape platteland. My husband grew up there, he knows the area well. As we went along, he would read out the fascinating names of the farms, the turn-offs, the stations, the villages. Ouvloer, Botteliersfontein, Aasvoëlkop, Die Boord, Herbertsdale, Karringmelksfontein, Cooper’s Siding, Vadersgawe... He had a story to tell about each one of them: about the people, their lives, the fun and games, the trials and tribulations.
My husband’s stories were so enthralling that the journey passed by in a flash. Before long, we were approaching Riversdale’s Sleeping Beauty; that fair lass who has been slumbering so peacefully for centuries, her lashes resting on her cheeks.
Because my husband’s parents were sometimes away for long periods of time, as a child…
