After almost two weeks of sore throats, red burning eyes, wrenching coughs and restless, comfortless lethargy, Rob and I – for Rob, too, succumbed, at the end of last week – are beginning to circle slowly upwards, swimming toward the light. It will be a relief to put this behind us; unimaginably good, to feel hale and whole and full of life and energy again.

Which is not to say we have not been beavering away: Rob (I will leave her to tell the tale herself, if she chooses) has made a brilliant pitch to offer a ‘boot camp’ training programme for her colleagues at Soweto TV; I am busy setting up interviews with the Engineering Faculties, mapping out data collection processes and project timelines and – today, for the first time in what seems like an awfully long time – returning to the novel, and finding a voice, a narrative grip, a sense of direction again. Swimming upwards, towards the light.

We took stock, briefly, this evening. We have our health (actually); we want for nothing; we have friends and family who care for us. We are lucky, still.

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