With the Russian madman causing mayhem in the world, I am really trying to maintain a positive outlook.
The war news is dominating and it’s difficult to avoid. But am very aware of how my mental health can affect my physical health, so I am attempting (and so far succeeding) to limit my news watching/viewing. I look at just enough to get a very superficial overview but even that is more than I want. I feel so sad for all the people affected by this megalomaniac!
Time flies by, even the chemo treatments. Yesterday was #5 of the planned 6. The results of my blood tests continue to be good. The cancer marker went from 301 to 187 this week. But not low enough to move on to the next stage. Dr. McCleave said they want to see it at around 30 which is quite a long way yet.
When I came back to South Africa in 2019, I naturally gravitated to where I was born and grew up. And actually ended up in the what we used to call the village of Kloof. (It’s no longer a village!) Kloof is about 18 miles/29km from Durban and just on 1600ft/500km above sea level, giving the area a more moderate climate than Durban, usually being a good 10F less which was the case when I took Rodney to the park this afternoon. Plus less humid.
The fourth treatment went as planned. Mick came with me so he was able to meet my doctor. It’s always good to have another set of ears in a consultation but this one was very straightforward because everything is going so well.
November 16 last year is the fateful day I got the definitive news that changed my life.
By then I ‘d been in hospital for 8 days going through tests and everything else that goes along with a cancer diagnosis. I’d just had laparoscopic surgery for a biopsy and the GYN/surgeon came to visit me after I had very gently been given the diagnosis. He’s a lovely man and from reading his bio, a pretty religious one as well. He said to me as he sat at my bedside, “Have you considered end of life?”
Over the holidays, and knowing that it was too busy to start visiting distilleries, Zoze and I had been relying on Biff and Julie for transportation, and it worked fine. They offered us the old Merc, a classic, but with the air conditioning not working and it being as hot as it was, we decided to rent a car.
Wonderful Mexican colors
I hate to even think how many years ago, Randy and I would drive down to Baja California, crossing the border in Tecate, then wend our way down to San Felipe on lightly-traveled roads that wound through the Guadalupe Valley and a small ejido called Santo Tomas, where there was a tiny winery.
Earlier in the year, Ryan had taken a trip south and raved about the area and all the wineries, so I was excited when he suggested we go for a couple of days after Christmas. I jumped at the chance to visit and find out for myself. So Ryan and friend, Phil from Tennessee, and I drove down to go wine tasting in that same area. On his earlier visit, he had hired a taxi to drive them around but considering there would be three of us, he chose to hire a guide! Great move!
The plan was to drive down from Hollywood, to arrive at our Airbnb at Rosarito mid-afternoon, spend some time on the beach and head out early the next morning, for a full day of wine-tasting.
Crossing the border between the U.S. And Mexico is always a stark reminder of the disparities between the two countries. On the U.S. Side, the infrastructure is modern; housing is structured; it's all first world. Cross the border and shanty houses cling to the hillsides, their walls barely hanging together. Streets are higgledy piggledy but surprisingly clean. Rules of the road are not always adhered to! Hence the need for additional car insurance.
Our Airbnb was delightful
But the area around Tijuana has developed a lot since I was last there in the early 1990s. Once out of the city and on the toll road heading south, the shoreline is lined with houses and high-rise hotels and condos, although many are sitting unfinished, stark gray skeleton silhouettes against a spectacular ocean view.
The toll road got us to our destination by about 3 and we checked into our charming Airbnb located in La Mision, down on a tiny dead-end side street, one of three apartments that Cathy runs. It's fully equipped, with everything anyone can need for a stay. She even sent up cookies and a cheese a plate to welcome us.
Of course, the first thing we did was head down to the beach. And down it is! I didn't count the steps, but there are a lot, but the climb is well-worth it. The beach is spectacular and as it was low tide, expansive. We walked to the tide pools to the south, passing a group of youngsters playing with fireworks, which are legal in Mexico. Big booms! Also legal are dogs on the beach, which was lovely to see. Dogs off leashes, running and playing unrestricted, ignoring or greeting others without conflict.
On the way back, we climbed up to a bar that is just a couple of doors down from our home for the few days. And celebrated with a real Mexican margarita while watching as the sun slipped lower and lower, creating one of the most magnificent sunsets I have ever seen. Needless to say, I took far too many pictures.
Dinner was at a less-than-memorable restaurant, so much so I don't remember the name! But the wine was good, we were tired and ready to get a good night's sleep in preparation for the big day.
