6. Scenery, or Lack Thereof, As Our Train Crossed South Africa and Botswana, Heading Toward Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia

This is story #6 in the series “Where Exactly is Home?”. The author recommends you read them in order.

Introduction:

“Where Exactly is Home?” follows the story of my parents, my two younger brothers and me, Susan, who emigrated from war-battered Britain, in the mid-late 1950’s, to Southern Rhodesia, Africa.

The effects of this move on our family were huge, as we struggled to adapt to such a different way of life. Only after further upheaval, and more long-distance travelling, did our family eventually settle in the city of Salisbury, Rhodesia.

However, we did not know then that we would not remain there for the rest of our lives, either.

When the family first went to Africa, I, Susan, was 9 years old. My two brothers, John and Peter, were almost 7 and 4, respectively.

Nowadays, as seniors, John and Peter live in England. I live in Canada. Throughout our lives, we have both benefitted from, and suffered because of, our somewhat unusual childhood.

I, for one, still sometimes ask myself which country represents home to me.

This is a series of stories under the title “Where Exactly is Home?” – I recommend you read them in order, starting with story #1.

6. Scenery, or Lack Thereof, As Our Train Crossed South Africa and Botswana, Heading Toward Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia

The train journey began well, with our family spending endless hours gazing out of the windows at the wonderful scenery around us. Having left Cape Town, with its backdrop of blue skies and sunshine, the train wended its way through along the Hex River Valley, where, in glorious weather, we admired countless orchards, hundreds of citrus trees, and neatly arranged vineyards, as far as the eye could see, usually with mountain ranges not too far away. I found it all breathtaking. Looking back, I can say that the scenery was like that of a picture postcard, though at that time I wouldn’t have known what a picture postcard actually was.

Soon the train, leaving the lushness of the valley, as it travelled further north through dusty soil, yellow grasses, and scrubland, wound its way towards Kimberley Diamond Mine. We could see clearly from the carriage windows The Big Hole, an enormous hole almost a mile wide, which disappeared into the earth. At that time, our family didn’t know anything about its history, of course. We, three children, had never seen a diamond, either. My parents didn’t have the money for such luxuries, so my mother did not have an engagement ring, for instance. For seventy years, until the day she died, just three weeks after my father, she wore a plain gold utility wedding ring, and that was it.

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