It started with a backpack. A khaki K-Way backpack. We were visiting my mate’s farm in the Northern Cape and on the first morning he arose with purpose. He filled the backpack up with a portable gas burner, a Bialetti Moka Pot, ground Deluxe coffee, farm-made rusks, tin camping mugs, a warm tracksuit top for him and his wife and a sleeve of marshmallow Easter eggs. A real pro.
“Looook at that backpack!” I said to Jules while we sat on the back benches of his Land Rover driving through the veld. “Imagine I had a backpack like that...” We took the Land Rover up to one of the koppies, fired up the Bialetti on the gas burner while we watched the sun rise over the Orange River.
Bob delivered the perfect cup of coffee in a steel coffee mug that must have belonged to his grandfather. I stared out over the landscape. Sitting here - not much more than an hour from the birthplaces of JRR Tolkien, Laurens van der Post and Jacques Nienaber - I thought big thoughts.
Maybe if I lived out here, I would have these big thoughts more regularly. I would probably write crime novels, like Deon Meyer, about a Karoo detective by the name of something cool. Shiny Marais and Tiny Naudé immediately came to mind. Not bad. I thought. Not bad at all.
Three days after my return to Johannesburg, I was sitting bored at my desk thinking: Why the hell should he have all the fun? I strode across to Sandton City with a purposeful swagger. I knew very well where Cape Union Mart was and walked straight to the backpacks section in the back left corner. There it sat, a brand new khaki K-Way backpack, with tags explaining its many features. This was not just a backpack that costs R899. This was more than that. This was a new way of life. Eight-ninety-nine. I said whilst shaking my head. I’ve got at least eight-ninety-nine to spare.
I got home and placed the backpack on the dining room table and said nothing to Jules. I gave her a moment to marvel at its beauty and make up her own mind. "Imagine the possibilities." I said to myself — and I knew she was thinking the same thing too. Coffees at sunrise. Hiking trips in the Drakensberg. Picnics in botanical gardens.
I could see her coming around to all these possibilities when she asked: “What do you want to use it for?” I knew she didn’t mean this.
“Julia, with this backpack, the world will be our oyster.” She nodded in agreement and asked if I wanted to watch The Block with her. Of course I did.
The backpack sat on the bed in our spare-room for a week untouched. I thought of all the promises I made myself when buying it. I opened it up forlornly and flicked through the bag noting once more it’s several impressive capabilities - there are far more zips and pockets than I ever imagined. Look at this! I thought. Look at all the possibilities... It even has a protective pouch for a laptop!
The next morning I woke up and explained to Jules that I had discovered something wonderful: “Inside this backpack I can fit my gym gear, a warm top and my laptop.” With the pack on my back, I walked down to my Ford Fiesta thinking about the perfect album to drive to work to: Paul Simon - Graceland.
I didn’t go to gym that day though. Or the next. And I seldom needed a warm top at all at work. But those are my decisions and I know that with this backpack, I have options. And let’s face it, the backpack just looks a bit funny if it’s not at least three-quarters full.
New favourite.