O P o t B

In my forty six year when I should, as most men my age, been contemplating the next tablet I should be taking or the state of the world and its economy, I decided instead, to do something I have never done before, not even in my youth.  I decided to go on a road trip and what a journey it is turning out to be. Driving through the North West Province I was struck by the lush vegetation that had sprung up as a result of the good rains.  The saturated ground was dotted with water and in the open fields the first signs of the farmers labour was visible as little shoots of maize crept slowly skyward to capture the rays of the sun. People lined the junctions, leading to small towns, in the hope of procuring a ride as taxis, cars and busses, packed to capacity with people, boxes and various other paraphernalia, raced past eagerly transporting their patrons home just in time for the festivities.  Trucks, fully laden, occasionally caused a slowdown in traffic, as they made the...

Coffee, a drink made in heaven, well almost.  Perish the monk who took the devil seed and distilled it to make the first cup of coffee!  Now if he patented the idea, he could have left his goat herd behind and lived a life of complete opulence and excess, not only him but the rest of his offspring for all eternity. Thank God for small mercies, the monk lived in a time where patents were not even invented yet and fortunately or unfortunately,  I am not sure which, monks are celibate. But enough bantering about the origins of coffee and the possibilities of what could have been, coffee is a drink that is close to my heart and, well, the cornerstone of my fluid intake.  Now I have been told that coffee is a diuretic, I am hoping the water in the coffee is enough to compensate for this effect, however somehow I think not, I live in hope. Coffee comes in various forms from fine powdered instant coffees to full bodied roasted coffee beans, which have to be ground and b...

I tried to think of the individual days of Hajj and what I experienced through those days, but all I can pick out were specific events while the rest of the experience escapes me.  For example I remember walking to the tent city of Mina, but I cannot remember what time I donned my Ihraam.  Day 1, entering the tent city of Mina my heart is filled with joy. I have reached the first stage of the journey.  The census states that there are two million pilgrims who are participating in the ritual of Hajj, and for the first time I get the real feel for what it means to be part of this multitude.  A sea of white, moving relentlessly towards its goal, my existence pales into insignificance and I am humbled.  It is the day of rest and I have made the journey on foot.  I locate the camp and tent the group has been assigned to and taking up a foam mattress I lie down.  I spend the day resting, supplicating, praying anxiously waiting for the dawn of the Day of Me...

I wake up early, well before the call to the early morning prayer.  I turn on the shower and discover that I had forgotten to turn the geyser. After a cold shower, I anxiously throw on my clothes, drape my saal over me and make my way to the mosque. The air is crisp and cold. People fill the streets as they make their way to the mosque to secure a place inside.  I make my way through the throngs of people and find a place in the new extension.  After sitting down, I take in my surroundings. The mosque has been extended a number of times. This section has a high roof supported by a number of arches. Columns reach down from the ends of the arches and are planted firmly on a plinth supporting the enormous weight of the roof. Above me is huge dome, which can be opened lest the heat inside the mosque becomes oppressive. Shimmering Brass clothes the columns where they meet the arches and the plinth too. The mosque is filled with pilgrims and there is a murmur in the air as ...

Packing enough clothes for a ten day stay, I carry the luggage to the bus. A relatively modern bus with air-conditioning and nice comfortable seats. It is an eight hour drive across some five hundred or so kilometers. Taking my place at the back of the bus we make our way out of the city of Mecca. The road we are following is roughly along the path that our Prophet and his trusted companion took, across the baron landscape with rocks, stones and sand for company. The hot sun beating down and the chill of the night as the heat dissipated into the cold dry desert air. The bus chugged along relentlessly wheeling its way towards our destination. Out of nowhere across a rise, a petrol station. An oasis in our midst. We clamber off the bus, the searing heat rising to meet us. A time for relieving ourselves and then to the ablutions before gathering together to pray. A short lunch and we off again. A couple of miles down the road the bus comes to halt. The engine cooling system cannot k...

Makkah, more commonly known as Mecca, birthplace of the Holy Prophet Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him), city of the holy mosque and nestled in it's centre the Holy Kaba, house of God Almighty on the face of the earth. Built by Abraham(Ebrahim) and his son Ishmael (Ismail) under instruction from the Almighty. I am here. At the hotel we book into our rooms and rest a bit.  I have been awake for 24 hours now. After settling and resting a bit we gather downstairs with a group of earlier arrivals who take us on our first Umra (mini pilgrimage). Around the corner from the hotel we enter into Khalid bin Walid street. Walking in a group chanting the talbiyah. The air is electric. I become more and more anxious with each step. Finally we reach the white marble which surrounds the mosque, walk up to the nearest door and remove our shoes.  We enter the mosque and are told to look down.  Our guide takes us to the edge of the Mataaf, the inner area of marble that surrounds the Kaabah. ...

On disembarking from the plane I am assaulted by the dry heat of the desert. The heat from the asphalt adding to the discomfort as we step a short distance from the plane to  bus. We are whisked away to customs where we take our place in the queue behind the other pilgrims. The air is cool and filled with the pleasant chatter of people anxiously waiting.  Slowly we progress with the rest of our group and eventually it is our turn. Passports are scrutinised and stamped, bags are searched and finally we are instructed to move to an area outside, which is shaded from the overbearing sun by, what can only be described as, a gigantic marquee. Our group gathers together to patiently wait with our luggage for the next leg of the journey.  We have made it we are in the Holy Land.  We pray and then unpacking some food I break bread with our fellow travellers.  A certain magnetism is slowly growing in my heart, a yearning desire to set eyes on the holy mosque and the ...