It’s 8:20am and we’re at the airport waiting for our flight to Cape Town. I can’t actually believe it’s Wednesday already, I’m going to blink and it will be Sunday, the ceremony will be over and I’ll be back home wondering where the week went. I want to savour the experience but the hard taskmasters have devised such a tight schedule that everything so far has been rushed. I guess it hasn’t helped that I had a deadline today and I’ve been trying since Monday to send the document, but the Internet connection at the hotel was slow beyond belief. Every night I’ve bought credit, sat in the lobby and tried to email a 7.5MB document, but no joy, all I had managed to do is worry myself silly about missing a deadline instead of basking in CWP glory. I have no one to blame but myself, last-minute-sade is my name.

Gotta dash, flight to catch. Will be back later, got a high school and a university to visit.

So it’s been another long day, a 5am wake up for a 9am flight. We’re now in Cape Town and it’s nothing like Jo’burg, for one it’s a lot warmer and closer to my expectations of African sunshine. There’s also a vibe that’s different, maybe because I was cold and didn’t really see much of Jo’burg but Cape Town IMHO is much more laid back and vibrant. But I would say that wouldn’t I.

I’m off to bed in a moment, It’s another early start in the morning. A much anticipated trip to Robben Island. The problem with this blogging lark is the fact that none of the hotels we’ve stayed in so far have had Internet access in the room so it’s been rather difficult to post blogs on a regular basis. For someone who lives on email, I’m feeling strangely cut off from friends and family, and no I have no intention of running up astronomical charges on my mobile. Sade phone home, would be the sensible thing to do, but I’m being mean with money I don’t have. Anyway moving on swiftly, I’m sure no one wants to know the state of my finances.

Our nanny Nicky, who has been an angel magically produced a packed breakfast, we got on the bus and on every seat was a food pack

Before I forget, I must mention the year 12 students at Westerford High School. The general consensus amongst all the authors is that it has been the best event of the whole trip so far. Karen opened the show with a song and a poem that had them mesmerized. She asked them if they were ready for her, they said yes, but they weren’t. She had them eating out the palm of her hand. The rest of us read from our books and we ended the session with a Q&A. My favourite question of the evening, ‘is there any competition between the writers?’ My least favourite comment of the evening came from a student at Cape Town University, according to her I speak such good English, you’d think she’d stop there. But no, she then went on to explain that the majority of black South Africans couldn’t be elevated because they can’t speak English, the word she used was ‘they.’ I sidled sideways and left a conversation that left a sour taste in my mouth.

Let’s see what tomorrow brings. ☺ Sx