‘Let’s pack our bags and leave tomorrow. We’ll go wherever the wind blows us!’
Awestruck, I sat behind my holiday-job counter with my jaw on the floor. Standing across from me was my best friend, nonchalantly proposing the most ridiculous, yet tempting, adventure.
Before I knew it, the words ‘Um … okay?’ slipped out, and a sunrise later we were on our way with nothing but a tent, sleeping bags, some burger patties, R1 000 and three promising days of unplanned fun ahead of us.
Spontaneity had never tasted so sweet: December sun on our skin, roads threading through a patchwork of farmland, Journey’s song ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ blaring out the windows… What more could we need?
Famished after setting up camp in Arniston, we started a fire, only to…