Sitting here writing this blog, little Jade is fast asleep. I have just told her a bedtime story about mystical China. Sharing with her my trip to China last week , all that I had seen , my reunion with the wall and what it meant

Those of you that are familiar with this iconic hike know most people trundle the forests of the Garden route for about 4 to five days along this 45km trail of untouched beautiful pristine coastline. It's no easy hike, each day is a big one and you need to be fit, but the rewards are there.

There are some days when I just can’t believe the genuine kindness of the fellow South African. Deep down we are a caring nation and that, I can vouch for. This weekend I was once again astounded by a random act of kindness.

I was driving into Cape Town a few days ago and this graffiti artist's work caught my eye, it also made me think so much about what we stand for and what we are going through as a young democracy in relation to the freedom of information bill that is causing such public outbursts.

I think this is one of those debates that will rage on forever. It has recently been fueled by some sport Doctors voicing an opinion that shoes don’t really matter, they are all the same. Then on the other side the manufacturers saying something different, athletes giving their bit and then of course there is the barefoot brigade with their view. So what is the answer, who knows? My feeling is that it boils down to the individual, but largely influence by the level that you are running at and most importantly terrain that you are running over.

So often we go to great lengths and massive cost to travel to a far away land to see something special that will leave a lasting memory and inspire one with its beauty. I too have been bitten by this bug. Often we tend to over look the beauty that sits right where we are, the scenario is much like the cow that always pushes its head through the fence to eat the grass that looks more appetising on the other side.

The ocean has been pounding the Cape coast most of the week, huge 6 meter swells have crashed into the shore line, in a way it's so majestic, but also terrifying. I can sit and watch it for hours, but there is another side that scares me, brings back memories of how merciless one feels out there bobbing in a small craft in a raging storm – there is nothing so scary. It was just this that was the cause of the Seli 1 running aground nearly two years ago one stormy Cape Night – but this night has come back to haunt us.

Every country that I have traveled in, I must admit, the taxis have always been an experience that one remembers. They are so different, and in a way all have their way of bringing that edge of disbelief, “No, this can't be happening”, getting out you cant believe that you actually survived the trip. Back home in SA there is the mini bus taxi, they are a law unto themselves, tending to have an inbuilt self destruct desire to drive themselves into extinction. Madagascar has the rural taxi brusse, These vans are rural roller coaster taking you into unchartered territory at speeds that are insane, going where even 4x4’s tend to avoid.

What a hectic crazy city, at a glance it looks totally chaotic on the surface, but dig down, spend a little time down a side street in a local spot and there is a different picture. Things are happening, everything works and is organised. The streets are cleaned, the garbage is removed and the traffic keeps flowing – everything seems to run off a hooter. That make this world go round.