Friday, June 25, 2010

We pray for moments like this XXXII - Middle of Karoo to Worcester - 24 Feb 2010

I wake up once in the middle of the night. The train isn't moving. Our little cabin is a feint, dim orange as the light of a station in the middle of nowhere spills into through the window. Having spent an entire day and night within 2 meters of Lex the first thing that pops into my head is "BANDITS!"

Of course the imaginary bandits never make an appearance and a minute or two later the train slowly pulls off. The next time I wake up it's dawn. Anja's asking if she should get me breakfast. As if she needs to ask. Anja and gang return with food. We eat, pack up our beds and settle back into watching the landscape fly past us. We're clearly in the cape now. Bleak desert has been replaced by green and mountains. Apparently we're running late and will only be getting to Worcester two hours after we should have. I'm don't mind in the least - I could hang out with these kids on this train for another two days and it'd be awesome. But kinda unfortunately we do arrive. Leaving the train is scary - I'm mad paranoid we're leaving something behind, but after double checking our cabins four times over I'm sure we've got everything. Worcester station is damn old school. Feels like it could have looked this way in 1910, unchanged in 100 years. Everyones pulling their luggage around on these wooden carts. The oh-so-considerate Cutout Collective show up with a massive one that they offer to share with us. Between the electro four piece's elaborate stage set up and our rock and roll weapons, the cart is probably wheeling around the coolest load of stuff it's ever carried. We navigate it along the station into the streets of Worcester. Getting pretty messed up looks from the few locals hanging out at their little town's station this Thursday morning. As promised Ramfest have organised transport for us. A small fleet of bakkies line the sidewalk outside the station. We load up all our gear and the half of us that can fit into the bakkie climb in.

Leaving the train station behind us, we cross some bridge. In the distance I see a little village of tents, the site that will be the last battlefield in this war of awesome we've been waging the past two weeks.

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