Part 2 of a 3-part series. Read Part 1.
As I was saying…I came full-circle.
I started my epic journey at the Randburg Licensing Department, at 11:00 a.m. on a Wednesday morning, only to learn that Randburg only accepts traffic register number applications on Wednesdays from 7:30 to 10:00 a.m. (I need to get a traffic register number before I can register my car.)
Part 1 of a 3-part series. Read part 2.
I moved to South Africa in August 2010. In December 2013, I finally bought a car.
My friend Michelle and I have a tradition of meeting up somewhere in Africa over the Christmas holidays. Last year we went to Namibia. This year, Michelle wanted to go somewhere new (not easy, as Michelle has been everywhere), and I wanted to go somewhere within driving distance of Joburg (peak-season flights are too rich for my blood). We decided on Lesotho.
Very few people in the world know that there is a tiny country in Africa called Lesotho. Fewer still know how to pronounce it. (It’s Leh-SOO-too.) Even fewer still have actually been there, which is a pity because Lesotho is a beautiful, mystical place.
Before I continue my series on Lesotho and the Eastern Free State, I need to tell you about a fun excursion to the Cradle of Humankind that I took last month as part of the Gauteng Tourism Ambassador program.
From the Melville Cat:
Heather left me over the holidays and went on a trip. Apparently she went to a tiny country called Lesotho, and to a place in South Africa called the Eastern Free State. Heather was gone for nine days. How rude.