What St. Helena was like . . .

St. Helena was much more hilly that I expected, and had a lot more people. Expectations were a little bit far-fetched in terms of isolation, but it was still pretty cool in terms of ‘smallness’.
In Jamestown itself, it was extremely hot and humid (compared to what I’m used to, anyway – not looking forward to Rio in that respect). Further into the island (roads were very winding, and often you could only see up to 6m of road at any one time). It was much greener, and also cool, as the wind could reach you better. The roads in the middle of the island were cool – little open roofed tunnels with black floor and green sides. The vegetation would cover the sides of the road, and often grow twice as high as the car on one side, and at least the height of the car on the other.
Jamestown (from my point of view) gives off an air of dilapidation. It’s not that the town is devoid of activity, or that the people look different from any other place . . . it’s just the buildings themselves look old. Old and tired. They’re still used for a multiple number of useful things, but though they seem to be bustling with useful motion, it’s as if the soul of the house isn’t interested anymore, and couldn’t care less what happened to it.
We were very fortunate to be able to find a good, Baptist church on St. Helena, and we could therefore have immediate contacts. The pastor and his wife were extremely friendly, and we were invited to their home quite a few times. Their house is very interesting – the walls inside the house are almost as thick as the length of my arm!
Eggs are very precious, as they are hard to come by and expensive. We got a few for our trip to Rio, as our stash had run out with, what we now realise, was vigorous use. We are now in ‘egg saving mode’, eating scones for breakfast, (no eggs) and refraining from using eggs too excessively in general.
One of the days Pastor Greame had offered to take us to the graves of the Boere who had died on the island while imprisoned there. We had to walk to their house (next to the Baptist church in Jamestown) from the water, and bought a few grocery items on our way up. We left the stuff at the house while all six of us and Pastor Greame piled into the tiny car: Pastor Greame driving; my dad in the passenger seat; Franci, I and my mom in the middle and Karin and Sophia in the boot. It was tight, but we all fit in. Luckily the poor car was still able to drive on the steep roads and up the hairpin turns with the heavy load!
One of the strangest things for me, is that we’re not going home now – we’re going to Rio! We had a wonderful ten day holiday – nice weather, we swam in the water right next to the boat, everything lovely and warm, nice fish, edible and otherwise – now that it’s over, it feels as if we ought to return to our normal life. But we’re not. Weird thought . . .
Okay, I’m done for now. =)