September 17, 2021

My dearest,

You bring me to Madagascar.

It’s so different from what you or I expect. Instead of deep, green forests with barely any sunlight escaping the thick canopy overhead, the mating cries of lemurs in heat piercing the moist silence, we are greeted by an impossibly blue sky, dusty sand roads, an occasional bread tree (is that what they are called?) and the blurred, out-of-focus faces of tourists, sometimes floating in mid-air.

Google Earth is your new obsession, but its street views can only do so much.

The folks hired to scan and map out our planet for us evidently haven’t penetrated the depths of the Madagascan jungles yet. But still you are exhilarated.

You find so much joy in traversing this tiny, giant globe we call home. And your joy is shared with me, and our happiness doubled.

You turn to islands to the east of Madagascar – Mauritius and Maldives – and I tell you these are the three Ms between Africa and Asia, the gems of the Indian Ocean.

I had just made that up but you probably this; I make so many things up and sometimes they sound true and sometimes they are true despite me.

Here’s where we stayed in Camps Bay, you say, and here’s the route we took, driving through the Constantia Valley to Simon’s Town.

Why didn’t we visit the World of Birds Wildlife Sanctuary & Monkey Park, you ask. It’s along the way.

They probably have snakes, I say.

Oh, you say. No thanks.

You read me the names of countries – Georgia, Azerbaijan, Ukraine, Belarus, Lithuania, Latvia – like addresses from a phone book. You ask me if these are part of Asia or Europe or both?

You trace our most recent travels in New Zealand, from Cathedral Cove to the long drive across the Catlins, between Curio Bay and Queenstown. I tell you that falling asleep to the sound of ocean waves in Curio Bay was one of the best experiences of my life.

We should go back there, you say.

Or: We should go here one day. That is your constant refrain. And my reply, always, Yes, my love. Let’s.

Even when we cannot actually travel right now. Even when we are stuck working from our apartments, in different cities and different countries, venturing out only rarely for food and essentials. Even then it’s hard to call this a lockdown when it’s gone on for what seems an eternity, far too long.

Yet you remind me that we can always explore, even if it’s on our screens. We can always discover new sights and sounds to marvel at. You remind me how lucky we are, how blessed.

Yours, ever and always.