In 2016 I travelled to South Africa and fell down a hole.

It wasn’t a spectacular hole, more like a ditch. 

And I broke my ankle.

To embellish my story, I could tell you that, at the time, I was thrashing my way, machete in hand, through dense African undergrowth.

Or, more exotic still, that I was dancing in stilettos, Prosecco in hand, in a Cape Town night spot. And I toppled over, whilst tippling.

The actual event was however, sadly mundane.

It happened on the last few days of the trip. A tour guide was set to pick us up from our hotel in downtown Cape Town, for the standard day tour of the sights. And he was running late.

Now, I am an “are we there yet?” sort of adult. 

I cannot sit still for long, it’s a weakness I need to work on, but the prospect of losing any quality travel time whatsoever by just sitting around waiting is irritating to me. 

So off I trotted, down a ramp leading to a shopping mall beneath the hotel. Only for five minutes, I assured long suffering hubby.

There was an extensive inground trench running the length of the arcade, which had formerly housed rented indoor plants often used in shopping malls. The trench was empty.

I saw it. 

But as I walked along, I was looking up. Exploring. Examining the ceiling decorations. Instead of watching where I was going.

And yes, my foot found the edge, I overbalanced, and fell onto my ankle. The ensuing crack told me all I needed to know. 

Five hours later, and after a stint in Christian Barnard Hospital, I was set. Moon Boot, crutches and some nice little pills. 

What to do? Cut short our trip? 

No.

The enterprising tour operator Faisal very generously suggested that he could turn our last few days into a driving tour. He was going to design a new trip just for us.It should be made easier because he, his young protege Ryan, & my hubby would share the load in getting me around.

And by the way, would we like to see how people of colour lived in Cape Town ?

Faisal and Ryan were both African.

Would we like to visit African homes? Did we want to learn about their culture, their way of life today, and what life for them was like, living in the time of Apartheid?

Of course we would!

And so, over the next few days, we were greeted with huge smiles, welcomed into the homes of complete strangers, and embraced as new Aussie friends.

We saw and understood and learned so much more about our South African friends and their lives than we would have, had I been able bodied. 

Just every so often, and especially when travelling, something magical happens. 

A small setback can lead to a momentous memory. 

It did for me in Cape Town.