Photograph: The bridge over the Van Staden’s River

The first of the Tsitsikamma range of mountains came into view, rising above the meadow-like countryside carpeted with flowers.

A road sign indicated that Woodridge School lay ahead of me. This was one that had subscribed to Learn the News for some years already. It would be worth popping in.

It was school holidays so there was little activity in the white-painted buildings that housed the classrooms and dormitories. However, a game of cricket was in progress on one of the green fields.

I sat and watched a few overs, not knowing who was playing whom.

After Woodridge the road dropped and curved through the gorgeous forests of the Van Staden’s River pass.

The friendly cyclist who had slowed down to my pass had told me all about the high bridge over the N2, which came into view shortly before I crossed the low bridge on this old road.

“It’s known for people hurling themselves from it when they commit suicide,” he said. “The last time I cycled out there I ran into a little ceremony, which must have been a memorial service for such a person and looked like rather a sad affair.”

Looking up at the huge bridge in the midst of such splendid scenery, feeling good the way one does when cycling, I felt I had just the remedy to solve the problem of mind chemicals bringing about such self-destruction and tragedy: cycling in beautiful scenery.

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