Leaving Cape Town early Monday morning after finishing the race on Saturday was both easy and difficult. It was easy because over the last four months we had all become very adept at packing and sorting and getting to the starting line on time. It was difficult for the same reasons. Routine took over and before I knew it I was on an airplane. Fifty of us had just spent four months living in each other’s pockets. We had developed good friendships, suffered and celebrated together. How do you then say goodbye to somebody you know you may never see again. It all seemed very perfunctory and inadequate. But perhaps that is for the best. The French don’t say goodbye. They say “au revoir,” “until we see each other again.” Holding out this hope, even if we know that in many cases it is an empty hope, and getting back on the freight train of routine may be for the best.
It is perhaps too early to reflect on the last four months. I have now been home for four days and know that I have not yet really begun to absorb the experience. Being back home with Liz and Catherine and Laura is spectacular. Without them I am sure I would feel much more rudderless right now.
The first thing I did when I got home was put my bike back together. It got pretty beat up in the plane. The box was ripped and skewered. But the apart from a punctured tire (valve separated from tube somehow) the bike was more or less ok. I have been out most days since – no long rides, just local rides, doing chores and getting things done. But tomorrow I am going on a 60km off road ride in the Pande Forest with the morning cycling group. I am looking forward to it – even though I still do not have shocks on my front fork. We meet at 6am at the Butcher Shop.
There will be a postscript I am sure.