A Gal's Gotta Rant - Smoggy Reflections.

Walking in Circles: How Johannesburg Makes Me Question Humanity

So, I know this blog is primarily about my hiking adventures, but a gal's gotta vent or she'll implode.

If you caught one of my earliest posts, you’ll remember that during the COVID quarantine, I started walking… and kept walking. Around. And around. And around the same mind numbing loop, day in and day out, like a hamster on a wheel. Somehow, in that monotony, I found a bizarre sense of peace and - dare I say it? - a flicker of hope.

That was my tiny glimmer of light at the end of a seemingly endless, pitch-black tunnel.

The Weekday Grind: Hamster Wheels Are Not Just for Hamsters

Alas, one cannot hike 24/7 because, you know… work. So, the hamster-wheel loops continued through the week… until the next glorious weekend rolled around.

This morning, as I trudged through my concrete-surrounded, pollution infested area -also known as the cesspool of Johannesburg - I had a moment of reflection.

Hiking as a Lifeline in the Midst of Chaos

Since I began my hiking journey, each adventure has been a lifeline, helping me survive the Monday-to-Friday grind. I feel fractionally more zen, smile for no reason here and there… okay, intermittently, fine.

This morning’s walk through Johannesburg’s finest concrete jungle (read: pollution showcase) really drove it home.

Nothing like starting your day with a lungful of commuter exhaust to remind you you’re alive… technically.

And to the people who idle their cars for 15 minutes: are we warming up engines or summoning demons? It’s not Siberia.

Your car will cope.

It’s not the world’s fault that I have the most sensitive sense of smell on the planet. Nor is it the world’s fault that every smell physically assaults me and robs me of my hard-earned zen. But living with it? HELL. Just… spare a thought.

A Sunrise Scene Ruined by Humanity

Anyway, back to my walk. I glanced over a rooftop and saw a stunning “sunrise-ish” scene. A sunrise hike is right at the top of my bucket list, and there it was—right on my doorstep. But here’s the catch: no fresh air, no birds chirping… NOTHING.

We ruined it.

Dammit.

It’s tempting to point fingers. Older generations, younger generations, people with too many cars, people with too many opinions.

Truth is, we’ve all contributed to this mess.

Every shortcut, every convenience, every “it’s just one time” adds up.

And now here we are - surrounded by concrete, wondering where the birds went.

Brilliant work, team.

Vent Over, Hikes Await

Call me dramatic, call me cynical, call me whatever helps you sleep at night.

I just want the world I find on weekend hikes - the quiet, the clean air, the actual life - to exist somewhere closer than a two-hour drive.

Anyway. Rant over.

I’m off to the mountains to remember what the planet is supposed to feel like.