It takes thirty minutes to reach Stellenbosch from Cape Town International Airport. The road we take slithers along a wavy city. This is one of the huge townships in South Africa’s mother city. The signs on the edges of the roads alert of crossing people, of those who move to work and exchange their miseries here or there. And then, at a corner, metal gives place to stone, in its most ripped form, assembled there in huge domes of granite older than the world, burning under the southern summer sun. Man has planted vines there. Welcome to the vineyard of the rainbow nation.
The Dutch first, then the French
Few are the countries where the first harvest in history can be dated accurately.
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