Campsites

Driving out to Sleepy Hollow just outside Port Elizabeth on a drizzling Thursday, my mind wandered to the tale of Ichabod Crane. I wondered if at some stage during the weekend I would encounter a headless horseman who would hurl his head (or some shape of pumpkin) at me making me throw myself into a bush or a stream. Or even worse, disappear forever. But luck was on my side. Three days of absolute natural bliss and not a wandering…