When I was a boy, my father, like many of his generation, always measured distances in terms of the time it took to travel. For him, Margit was eight hours away. I highly doubt he knew the exact distance in kilometers, even after dozens of trips. I must say, he liked to travel at night. He always insisted that it was because the traffic was much less. The fact that my sister and I slept most of the way had nothing to do with it. It was two hours to Warmbaths, as Bela-Bela was then called, and Cape Town…

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