I followed the reports of Mr. Mandela making an appearance at the World Cup yesterday despite failing health and personal tragedy. (His 13 year old great grand-daughter recently passed away.) The 91 year old, who needs assistance walking, completed a lap of the pitch while perched on the back of a golf cart.
Today I am heading out to buy Nelson Mandela's autobiography. (It's not available in Kindle form, darn it!)
History is often so far away, so far in the past, the it seems almost a fairy tale. I know the difference is that history actually happened, but trying to imagine the construction of the pyramids, or the Great Wall of China is, to me, much like trying to imagine the moment where the prince slips a shoe on Cinderella's foot. It's just words on a page.
But the wondrous ability to travel changes all that. I'll never forget the overwhelming weight of history as I stood before the Parthenon in Greece. Or how easy it was to picture life in Pompeii while walking down its cobbled streets, or the clear understanding I had when I realized what the Berlin Wall had been and what it had meant. Seeing history close up, touching it, and experiencing that moment of understanding is one of my favourite parts of traveling. I can't wait to see and learn more about South Africa.