Land Rover?!” Jeff Aronson - Rackspace Hosting

useless as lipstick—so I had hidden it. Now, we had a definite
need for it, not to mention an opportunity for me to show off.
Still, I hesitated to use my only tube on the car.
We must all make sacrifices. I applied it to my lips for the
third and last time (remember, Kampala cocktail parties) and
then began marking up the gears. It was a brilliant idea, thank
you very much, and, much to the amazement of the Africans
watching, I was able to adjust the differential perfectly. And
which Malawi policeman would ever expect to find a Blushing
Nude on his differential
By the time we arrived at the house of Andrew’s brother in
Johannesburg, we had both run out of gas (and lipstick). A
year of living in our SWB Land-Rover had taken its toll, and we
were ready for a break. I think our Landie felt the same way.
She broke down repeatedly in a matter of days, as if she were
aware that the hard stuff was behind her. After surviving the
wilds of Zaire, it was embarrassing to break down in the parking
lot of the Sandton City Mall in Johannesburg (Andrew had
to buy a screwdriver in a hardware store since he had removed
our toolkit from the car).
Two days later, we pulled into the driveway of Andrew’s
childhood friends, only to have the dashboard burst into
flames. That’s right, flames. We saved the car only through the
quick use of our fire extinguisher. Needless to say, the wiring
was toast. We spent two days rewiring the car from front to
back.
It was now time to bring this particular adventure to an
end. And the only way for that to happen was to complete our
trip to the bottom of Africa. While tourist guides like to pretend
that Cape Point, near Cape Town, is the southernmost point in
Africa, the truth is that the continent ends at Cape Agulhas, a
bleak peninsula about 100 miles east, where the Indian and
Atlantic Oceans officially meet.
On a cloudy day, reminiscent in many ways of San
Francisco, which we had left a year before, we arrived at the tip
of Africa. We had traveled about 25,000 miles, many of them
over tracks that boggled the mind, and tested us—and our
Land Rover—to the max. Along the way, we collected a lifetime
of memories and adventures that we still talk about regularly.
We popped a bottle of champagne at Cape Agulhas. We
could drive no further. Andrew reached into his pocket and
pulled out a ring. “After six years together, it looks as if I’ve
run out of road,” he said. “Will you marry me” What can a girl
say in a situation like that
Celebrations aside, it was time for us to face reality. We
had been traveling for more than a year and we had run out of
money. In fact, we didn’t even have the cash to fly back to the
United States. With heavy hearts, we did what we had to do: We
sold our beloved 1960 Series II. It was heart-rending, but we
took solace from the fact that the buyers intended to drive it all
the way through Africa again—doing just what Land Rovers
are supposed to do. Saying goodbye to the old girl left a void
in our lives until four years ago, when Andrew bought a 1962
Series II-A 88”. Same color, same smell. Same everything. The
only question that we—and our two children—must now
answer is: “Where next”
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