BLOOMING ELUSIVE

IN my Cape Town student days, there were occasions when my friends and I dissolved into fits of giggles with little cause or reason. Once one of us began shaking with laughter, it was only a matter of time before the rest of us were wiping away tears of laughter, too.

So it was that on one road trip, when soon after cresting Sir Lowry’s Pass, we noticed a road sign indicating we were in Lebanon. “Lebanon?” someone queried. “Wow man, I guess this car really flies,” added another, which saw us all collapse into another fit of giggles. It was a simpler time, I guess.

This 40-year-old memory returned to me when I passed the just as oddly named Algeria Campsite with my adopted nephew, Raimund, recently. The