Wasn’t 2016 just a joy? Actually, I can logically and
rationally see that many positive things happened in 2016, including, for me
personally, the below:
The birth of my niece Lydia in January.
A new job with University of Adelaide which finally found me
happy and sufficiently challenged in my work life in Australia.
An awesome visit by my aunt and uncle in May with much
reminiscing and happy time together.
A new car which has finally given us security and freedom to
explore the state further.
An AMAZING trip to Africa and Mauritius in August/Sept which
took in some incredible safari experiences and concluded with the wedding of my
little brother. We met an incredible bunch of people on our G adventures tour and I know that many of them will be friends for life.
This beautiful bunch of awesome people was a highlight. Africa 2016.
Some great QT with my mom in October/Nov when she stayed
with us whilst doing a course.
An exciting visit to the NT with my folks and Stu for
Christmas which included memories I will treasure for years.
About to fly over Kakadu - utterly wonderful!
So, there you go, on balance some good things really did
happen. Sadly, we also had our fair share of sadness and heartache and it felt
like the world had lost its collective shit with some of the unbelievable
political decisions and global acts of terrorism which also occurred.
I have stalled in blogging about the Africa trip due to us
having an unexpected and completely shocking family bereavement which, to be honest, we are still kind of reeling from and which has prevented
me from being able to concentrate on much else.
You see, my lovely father-in-law passed away suddenly in
early November and it has rocked our world on its axis in a way I never could
have predicted. I guess I should be thankful to have got to the age of 37
before experiencing a bereavement like this. Supporting a spouse through the
loss of a parent is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. It is not
something there is any guide book for and the hardest part is not being able to
heal their pain in any visible or rapid way. Add to this my closeness to my
brother and mother in-law, both fully in the grips of overwhelming loss and
shock and pain, and who I also cannot help in any real, tangible way. The
helplessness is crippling.
I miss my father in law greatly and am grieving myself too,
though I can appreciate I am one level removed from the intensity of the grief
for Stu and his mum and brother. I have been part of this family for 18 years
this year and he has always been this incredibly kind and warm personality in
my life, so welcoming of a “daughter” into his family. He has left a huge hole
in our collective lives and I am still finding myself regularly shocked to
remember he will not be with us for various family plans and special days. New
Year was incredibly hard. I do not feel ready to draw any kind of metaphorical
line under last year because that feels like we are drawing a line under him
and it feels so wrong. I know it needs time but it breaks my heart on a
regular basis and I guess will continue to do so for many months yet.
I will pick the Africa blog posts back up soon, I just need
to get back in the mental head space to be able to do it justice.
Other things on the horizon for 2017 are helping me to think
positively but I am considering some CBT for a few things (including the grief)
which I can’t seem to process at the moment.
Anyway, Stu has booked a weekend in Moonta for my birthday
which includes the beloved pooch and so for now I am just aiming for that,
mid-February. I refuse to feel in any way defeated by 2016 because it was just
an extreme year and one which included many things I never thought I would have
to see or deal with at the age of 37. It taught me a lot.
The sun is out here in Adelaide, our dog is a constant source of joy and the best therapy is walking him on the beach with the sand between my toes. A book I received for my birthday is called "May you live a life you love" and I intend to do just that this year, more of the good stuff and less of the crappy stuff I feel obliged to do. That, I think, is the extent of my "resolutions" for 2017.
That one word holds so much meaning and emotion for people that it is hardly surprising to find that family units are rarely simple or perfect or describable things. If you know someone who claims to have a ‘perfect’ or ‘simple’ family then you know a liar.
It is often a ‘loaded’ word. One which infers what you should do, how you should behave. I do not like being told what I should do or how I should behave. I like to take the word "family" and fit it around what it means to my life and the people I love. I do not believe in the tribal, Mitchell-esque, loyal-to-the-day-that-I-die and ostracised if I am not, model one iota. I would like to think I am intelligent enough to judge for myself what family means to me and I absolutely will not be made to feel guilty for that.
Platitudes Ahoy
My family is absolutely, 100% dysfunctional. And I bloody love them for it because, guess what folks? It makes them human.
My central family group could be defined as the people who will invariably sit round my mothers table for a Sunday lunch and treat the place like Picadilly Circus, swanning in and out, pillaging for food and tea and begging for trousers to be turned up (or is that just me?) and it consists of my mom, my step-dad, my brother and sister in law, two step sisters plus their partners, my Nana, my step-nan, my nephew and my niece. Oh, and my husband of course, who manages to cope with the eccentricities of us all, so different to his own, quieter and much smaller brood.
Only four of these people are blood related to me but it matters not a jot, I love the bones of all of them. However, I remember when my (then) 7 year old nephew asked me whether I was blood related to one of my step-sisters and it suddenly became a bit tangled. He was at that age where he was seeking to figure out how it all fits together. I didn’t blame him for being confused; our tribe is a bit of an unorthodox jumble to say the least.
It is the one social grouping in life which we do not choose, but inherit. A very close friend of mine always says ‘friends are the family we choose for ourselves’ and I think this is bang on the money. I have written extensively about friendships and how I think they should work in an earlier post and to my mind my friends are indeed the family I choose. Many of them know me much better than the majority of people I share actual DNA with and I value them as highly as members of my family. I would also add that depending on your workplace, colleagues are an additional ‘familial’ group in your life. My team at work spend more time with me than anyone else does and invariably some of them know my day to day life very well. This applies even more so now that Stu and I live 10,000 miles away from where we grew up. Our Adelaide (and Australia in general) friends have become a massive safety net, a reliable infrastructure and a source of untold support and pleasure since we moved here nearly 4 years ago.
With our blood relations it stands to reason (as we have no choice in the family group we are born into) that some of these people you would never naturally cross paths with or choose to spend time with. This is normal. Obligations to stay in touch only mean something and work if you actually happen, purely by luck, to genuinely like the person anyway - but this is not a given. We understand this dilemma even more now that we live so far away, on two levels; firstly, maintaining relationships is much harder and we sacrifice many hours a week to keeping in touch with people in the UK via Skype. Also, whenever we visit the UK we spend all of our time visiting people and catching up and it feels NOTHING like a holiday (it pisses me off enormously when people suggest that is what a UK trip is). It's brutally honest to say this, but intense catching up in this way often means repeating the same thing over and over again (for us) and as time goes by some friendships just don't weather the distance. Increasingly, our lives are so different and so hard to relate to that conversations can be reduced to platitudes and small talk unless you (and they) make a huge effort. It really does sort the wheat from the chaff whether you want it to or not.
Going back to central family groups though, the ones you are deeply embedded in and (unconditionally?) love - essentially your parents and siblings. You may be given a place within this for free as a child but as an adult, I believe that you earn your place in a family. In the same manner you can also lose it. To keep it healthy you have to nurture it, like any relationship.
This means that when you screw up or let go or lose contact there is generally always a way back, but it takes work on both sides, forgiveness and the ability to move on and stop raking up what happened in the past. Unfortunately some people are simply not equipped to do this. In fact, some people believe holding a grudge is an Olympic sport.
What matters to me is the well-being of my central group. After that I have a lot of time and love for other members of my family and would always do what I can for them if they needed me, although I may not see them or speak to them on a frequent basis. Then there are the members I do not really know but have nothing against and will happily be civil to. Finally there are those that I literally, teeth grittingly tolerate at events where I cannot escape. Now, be honest, you just read that and mentally identified which members of your family fitted which group. That’s fine! That’s normal.
Unless you live in cloud cuckoo land of course where everything is awesome and everybody loves each other and lashings of ginger beer flow freely and people really say ‘golly gosh’.
Anyway, blood means nothing unless you are lucky and I cannot tell you how lucky I feel to have my step dad in my life. To say he is ‘like a father to me’ is wrong. I already have a dad and he is ace and I love him loads. My step dad gives me a ‘bonus parent’ role, one which is brilliant because you get the best bits from both a best friend and someone you are allowed to ask to fix your car and know they will do it because they love you. My parents divorcing was a blessing, both are now in happy, healthy relationships and I have two ‘bonus’ parent roles, both of whom I love. I was lucky.
My mom is an amazing person in so many ways. She is an amazing role model to me as a woman and the person I always want to run things by in my life. We can quite happily spend hours on skype talking about anything and everything. As I get older I value this more and more. As she gets older I find myself adopting the parent role with her more and more (“you really should stop smoking/go to the doctors about that/stop reading the Daily Mail”), I can amusingly see she does the same with her mother, my beloved Nana. The three of us would often sit and chew the fat when I lived in the UK and I am glad I got to do this. I miss it, living this far from home. This mother-daughter-grand daughter relationship is precious to me but not because we are blood related – that is incidental, but it gives us the basis of a bond which we choose to embrace and enjoy.
Sadly, human nature means that people are not naturally inclined to just get on. Life was not meant to be simple and the Middle East would be a fantastic holiday destination if everybody would just chill the fuck out. Really.
So…..there was a period, a few years ago now, which was difficult in our family for various reasons, mainly due to the aforementioned human nature issue. I spent the whole of 2009 and 2010 feeling like a cornered tiger protecting it’s young in relation to my parents, defending them and trying to repair damage and hurt. I had many difficult conversations with members of the family and it was a tough road for a long time, but we got through it. On the plus side I think we could probably field a family team at the next Olympics for the Holding-a-Grudge relay. This guide suggests sensible solutions to unresolved family conflicts – unfortunately it takes both sides to make a resolution happen and I am thankful that we got there in the end on the headline issue at least. Other issues continue to rumble on which assures me that we are indeed normal.
No human being is perfect. All of us make mistakes, say things we don’t mean, can be downright hurtful to the people we love and occasionally behave like complete and utter imbeciles. I know I have in the past and I am sure I will again at some point. Admitting it is easy when you put it in context, apologising, picking up the pieces, moving on and drawing a line under it is harder. And far more painful. And sometimes needs time. But it is never really a closed door until you make it so.
And I guess this is my point. Families come in many shapes and sizes. Some are pretty conventional, some are not. All will at some point and on some level go through crises. It is highly normal for Auntie X to not be speaking to Cousin Y or some kind of variation of this. You get arseholes, idiots, absolute gems, comedians, good eggs, bad apples, princesses, petty thieves, dictators, diplomats and the perpetually vacant. It is sort of like the most recent (UK) coalition government but closer to home.
How you make it work is entirely down to you. Stressing about it will get you nowhere. Black and white thinking will not help one jot. Holding a grudge is the greatest symptom of the narrow minded and should be avoided. And sharing blood does not determine ranks of importance within your life, nor should it.
Tell the people you love that you love them as often as you can, spend as much time with the people that matter as possible whether they are blood related or not. Tolerate those you have to and avoid the ones that cannot be tolerated and take no regrets to the grave because seriously, people, life is too short.
After two nights at Shalati we were back on the road with
another fairly early start that involved taking breakfast with us in paper bags
(how exciting!). Stu and I shared the back seat with Vlad on this first day in
Kruger and it was a great opportunity to learn about he and Michaela’s lives in
New York and their history as a couple. Stu and I came to have a great affection for
this pair with whom we had a lot in common despite leading very different
lives. I loved listening to them chat to each other half in English and half in
Russian with seemingly no logic to the changeover points (though there clearly
was to them!).
Anyway, we were only about an hour from the gate of the
Kruger that we were going to enter through and so we barely had time to gauge
what was in the paper bags (boiled egg in a confined space anyone?) before we
were in the Kruger proper.
This was a slightly strange day as we had been on two game
drives in game drive vehicles over the preceding days and so now, travelling
through another reserve, but in a vehicle that wasn’t really designed for the
purpose, the experience felt a little restrictive. For the keen photographers
(this would be Vlad, Stu, Daryl and Tony who between them must possess every
size lens known to man) it was difficult to get the good shots with both
reflection from windows and the cramped conditions to take into consideration.
On this day I pretty much decided I was just going to be “in
the moment” and stop worrying about photos – partly for the logistical reasons
described above and partly because I was trying to make a conscious effort to
engage with life around me without a screen of any kind as a filter. I am aware
that I spend far too much time looking at my phone/ipad than I do actually
soaking up events around me and sometimes, especially on this kind of
trip-of-a-lifetime, it feels empowering and liberating to choose to create
memories first hand instead of capturing them on a device of some kind for
later reflection. For that reason I have used Stu's (very impressive!) photos throughout this post.
We entered the Kruger and stopped for coffee and bathroom
breaks at a little lodge just inside, there were monkeys in the trees all around
and the coffee was actually pretty good for a roadside stop. While we were
stood drinking our delightful beverages a family of warthogs crossed the road
in front of us, we were definitely not in Kansas anymore.
Pumba (Warthog) in Kruger
And so, we made our way through Kruger park, delighting in
the amount of zebra, giraffes and elephants we saw, which were in abundance.
There were heaps of birds too, but I have to admit I find it very difficult to
get excited about birds and kinda zoned out while people snapped various eagles
and vultures and tried to identify
the varieties against the Kruger guidebook pictures.
For me, the highlight of this day will always be Oliphants
River where we stopped on the bridge and were able to get out and enjoy the
extraordinary view on both sides across the water. In one single sweep of the
eyes it was possible to see a herd of elephants, a couple of rhinos, a group of
hyena picking the bones of a kill, baboons, zebra, giraffe and various boks. It
was truly incredible to see all of this wildlife just right in front of you,
seemingly oblivious to the tourists on the bridge above, pointing hundreds of
lenses at them and gasping in awe.
Tegan and I watching the elephants in Oliphants
Elephants crossing the bridge
How many animals can you spot here?
After a good half an hour watching the world of African
wildlife go by below us, we made our way to Letaba Rest Camp which was to be our
base for the evening. We arrived around 1.30pm and were pretty hungry but due
to go out on a game drive at 4pm. Surely this was sufficient time to order and
eat lunch in the branch of Mugg & Bean they had on site, right? Well, we
cut it pretty close actually. By the time we had checked in, got changed and
headed to the restaurant it was gone 2pm – but we still figured we had time and
ordered a couple of flatbreads and a couple of beers. It was a beautiful spot
as the deck overlooked another section of Oliphant’s river delta and far below
us we watched some hippos swimming dangerously close to a large croc on the
river bank.
Our traditional hut at Letaba
Beers arrived, other members of our group turned up and
ordered food, Sam took this great shot of Stu and I – one of few of us together
on the holiday, as it happens.
Other people’s food started arriving, I chased
up our flatbreads and was told they were on their way. Stu realised he should
probably go stock up on water etc for our room as it was now 3pm and we might
not get time before heading out on the drive. The rest of our group were now
starting to head off to prepare for the drive. At 3.30pm our flatbreads
arrived. It was a TIA moment I believe. I did wonder if they baked the
flatbread from scratch, hence the delay. Oh well.
So, we jumped in the game drive truck and headed out into
the Kruger once again. This game drive was interesting in the fact that the
first hour and a half we thought we were pretty jinxed and we saw next to
nothing. Elephants from a distance, the ubiquitous impala of course, a couple
of antelope…nothing we had not yet seen before. And then, crawling along a
track, just as the sun was setting, we saw it. Two leopards in a tree with a
fresh kill.
Tony lost his mind. It was the funniest, sweetest thing in
the world to hear him swearing his head off in shock and excitement at seeing
the last (and most magnificent) of the big 5, at sunset, with a kill. Not just
one leopard either, but a pair of them. Our driver went to turn the vehicle around
and by the time we came back to the tree, one of the leopards was lying in the middle
of the road, soaking up the heat from the tarmac. It was utterly magical to see
these incredible beasts and they did not seem too bothered by the proximity of
the vehicle, we stayed and watched them for a good 20 minutes before starting
to head back towards the lodge.
And then, ten minutes later, Stu spotted two hyenas on the
side of the road and shouted to the driver and we stopped. This was the first time
we had been up close and personal with hyenas and they padded over to our
vehicle and checked us out like potential prey which was intimidating and made
the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My goodness they are bigger than you
think and look like they are built of pure muscle. They had a good old sniff of
our vehicle and eyeballed the occupants for a good few minutes before
continuing on their way.
Being eyeballed by this guy...
It goes to show how the game drive experience can turn on a
sixpence and you can swing from feeling resolved to seeing next to nothing to
utterly on the ceiling with excitement in the space of five minutes. It also
highlights the enormous role that sheer luck plays in each one – and it was for
this reason that Stu and I decided you have to be in it to win it and went on
literally every game drive option which we could.
Back at Letaba, Hardy was already seated at a long table with
our driver Jan and a couple of our group who hadn’t done the drive, waiting to
order food. The buzz in the room as we came back was incredible, everyone was
so excited from what we had seen in our vehicle and everyone talking at once, I
was desperate to hear what Sam and Merri might have seen from the other vehicle
and it turned out they had seen a snake in a tree fairly close up so had also
had a great night.
Dinner was another hugely TIA affair, which did not surprise
Stu and I, given our experience at lunch. It took at least an hour to collate
orders for everyone for both food and drink and then food came out
sporadically, in a seemingly random order, over the next hour and a half. Stu
and I had actually forgotten we had ordered a side of wedges to share and had
both finished out mains when it arrived 20 minutes later. Oh the lols. Stu had
actually been back to the lodge and had a shower between ordering and food
coming out, such was his belief that there would be time, and he was right.
I decided, after finishing dinner, that I desperately needed
a shower too and headed back, leaving Stu to pay for the bill. It will come as
no surprise to hear that splitting the table’s bills to individuals (even
though we all ordered on separate tabs) took an hour. I was starting to wonder
whether Stu had gone for drinks with Hardy by the time he reappeared. I was sat
outside our lodge with a bottle of wine, in my pyjamas, reading my kindle, when
he finally came back looking bemused. A TIA end to a truly staggering day.
Next day we would be heading out of Kruger and up towards
the Zimbabwe border, with one final stop at Mashovhela before we crossed the
border out of South Africa.
Day 3 of our tour saw us getting up rather early again and
embarking on pretty much a whole day in the minibus to get to our evening
accommodation at Shalati Adventure Lodge. Shalati is right on the edge of Manyaleti Game Reserve, a private reserve
bordering Kruger, which we would get the chance to explore on two game drives
the following day.
Luckily, our plan was to take in the beautiful “Panorama
Route” which meant lots of stopping to take photos of incredible scenery and a
more manageable journey, with frequent breaks and opportunities to stretch our
legs. This was lucky, as on this first long bus stint Stu and I had scored the
“sitting over the wheel arch with no leg room” seats. Lol indeed.
One of the first stops of the day was actually at a motorway
services which bizarrely had a game reserve type area out the back. We could
see zebra and ostrich from the terrace section and the view from the bathrooms
was incredible – in fact I would go as far as to say they were the most
enjoyable service station toilets I have ever encountered(!), if also being the
weirdest. We bought snacks and water and carried on our way, soon reaching the
more rural section of our route and some amazing views of rolling hills and
greenery.
One of the viewpoints along the Panorama Route
For lunch we stopped at a little town and Stu and I indulged
in a Wimpy which was almost exciting in a childhood-nostalgia kind of way. In
the UK Wimpy is a deceased brand of fast food from the 80s, in South
Africa it is still a chain of successful restaurants (go figure!?) What was
most interesting was that inside there was a contained smoking area (quite
busy) – which would of course be illegal in the UK (and Australia) as it was
inside a public building. I had a fairly unremarkable burger and felt smug because
there was free wifi (#winning).
A few hours later we passed through a strange little village
called Pilgrims Rest which is now almost a ghost town but is a quaint nod to
the mining glories of the past when this was a thriving community. I haggled
with a local market stall holder to buy a (quite frankly) ridiculous hat as I
was becoming conscious that I really should be protecting my head and face from
the sun (which was stronger and more continuous than I had imagined for the
time of year).
In the afternoon we passed by Bourke’s Luck Potholes and the
Roundavales – both of these are recommended stop points on the Panorama route
and offer impressive views as well as a chance to get your feet wet at the
potholes and some great gorge/waterfall photo opportunities.
Me at the Potholes
Bourke's Luck Potholes
The Roundavales (Stu's photo)
At the potholes,
Sam got mobbed by school children who seriously took him to their hearts and
demanded heaps of photographs, the funniest thing was that we then ran into the
same group at the next few viewpoints and each time they greeted him like a
celebrity and I have to say he handled it with wonderful grace and warmth,
qualities which sum up this lovely man so well.
Eventually, after quite a long day, we made it to Shalati
and our very cool (in every way) safari tent/cabins which were essentially a
tent on a wooden platform with an outside bathroom attached at the back.
Our safari tent at Shalati
We had
a great evening meal of buffet style cooked meats and salads and potatoes
around a fire pit under the stars. It started to get rather chilly as the night
descended and we donned jackets and moved our chairs closer to the fire. “Shorty”,
on the bar, did a fabulous job of keeping track of a number of mobile devices
and cameras that she was charging behind the bar for people, and of keeping us
all in wine and beer.
Due to the fact we were going on our first game drive at 6am
the next morning, people turned in fairly early. I went to bed in pyjamas, a
hoodie and socks and slept under a massive duvet and a fleecy blanket – fully
expecting to wake up boiling hot within the hour. I did not. I was, in fact,
wearing just the right amount of clothing for a night in South Africa in
winter. It is unbelievable how cold it gets when it has been so very warm
during the day. Getting out of bed at 5.30am was a bit of an ordeal and I could
see my breath as I got changed into lots of layers. I think Niki won the award
for most layers, donning 9 for the morning safari drive!
And so….we split into two groups (led by Peter and Rex) and
headed out for our first ever safari game drive in Manyaleti. This is a private
game reserve which directly borders Kruger – however, there are no fences so
whatever wildlife is in Kruger can wander in and out of the Manyaleti area as
it pleases. At the moment the whole Kruger area is so very dry and in serious
drought which means that there is no layer of grass on the ground – whilst
being dreadful for the animals, this makes it very easy to spot wildlife and
also means the remaining watering holes are a safe bet for sightings.
Within the first five minutes we encountered this guy, just
sprawled having a nap at the side of the road….
I can’t tell you the emotions
that went through me as we watched him eye us up, stretch and slowly decide we
were nothing of interest. I had my burst of lion king music ready but did not,
as it turned out, have the balls to play it when we saw this incredible beast –
it did raise some laughs at breakfast a few hours later though….
The first 20 seconds of this is what I had primed for our first cat sighting...
The 3 hours passed in what felt like 10 minutes as we
followed buffalo, spotted zebra, rhino and boks aplenty, got totally bored of
impala and then had a magical encounter with this large bull elephant. My mind
was well and truly blown.
We were back at our lodge for a late breakfast and it is
fair to say conversation was pretty much entirely about the experience we had
just had, everybody was completely psyched and looking forward to round two in
the afternoon. The nice thing was returning from the morning game drive around
9am meant there was a solid few hours in which to sleep, eat, shower and rest
before the 4pm drive started. That is pretty much what we did before
reconvening and heading back out.
Our evening game drive took us up on to an abandoned hilltop
farm to watch the sunset and enjoy a drink. It was slightly surreal being able
to get out of the vehicle and see 360 degree views of the reserve, spotting
giraffe, zebra and elephant through the trees and knowing quite how much
wildlife was all around us. Again, on this game drive, we saw rhinos and then
on the way back to the lodge we saw a massive maternal herd of elephants, it
was pretty special.
The second night was a bit of a TIA kerfuffle back at the
lodge.
Basically, everyone needed to settle their bills (game drives and
drinks) before going to bed as we would be leaving very early the next morning.
There was also scheduled to be African singing/dancing going on round the campfire
during dinner – but the dancers had had some logistical issues and arrived
late, just as most of our group headed off to the office to pay bills. The
dancers duly hung around waiting for people to come back but it seemed the paying
was taking an inordinate amount of time…those of us sitting round the fire were
starting to feel very sorry for them.
One by one, members of the group started arriving back and
recounting the hilarity of paying bills, Africa style, which involved separate queues
for separate elements of the bill (?) and a card machine which only worked once
every 3 transactions. I decided, therefore, to wait until everyone was back
before I braved it to go and pay ours. Sadly, I misjudged this and when I
headed over they had locked up the office and switched everything off. You can
imagine how overjoyed they were to have to switch it all back on again for me to
pay my bill. Seemingly they had not noticed one invoice was outstanding and I
do wonder if we might have got away without paying if I had not been so honest.
When I got back to the campfire, Sherry and Al were donning
some traditional costumes to join in with the dancing, this was highly amusing
and the perfect end to a fabulous experience at Shalati.
Sherry and Al pulling some shapes....
After roundly
applauding the entertainment we headed off to bed, conscious that the next day
we would be entering the Kruger proper and spending the day within it's boundaries as we travelled up towards Letaba Rest Lodge, beyond Oliphant’s River, and towards a truly magical encounter with some leopards.
On arrival in Cape Town, the weather was not doing us any
favours and was almost identical to the rough winter we had left behind in
Adelaide. This is not entirely surprising given that Cape Town and Adelaide are
on almost the exact same latitude. We managed to console ourselves about the
torrential rain, leaden skies and gale force winds by repatriating to a Belgian
beer place called Den Anker on the
V&A Wharf and proceeding to watch the carnage of people battling not to lose their
umbrellas while we sat in a warm and dry place with good tapas.
The V&A Wharf, Cape Town, with Table Mountain behind
The V&A Wharf is a pretty swanky and clearly touristy
area of Cape Town which was about a 30 minute walk away from our hostel. Aside
from doing Table Mountain and Robben Island, it is one of the main areas you
will visit on a trip to Cape Town. I found Cape Town a very manageable city, it is not too big and
sprawling and it felt pretty safe to us. We were staying at Once in Cape Town which is an
interesting choice for G Adventures to start a Classic tour from due to its
predominantly #YOLO demographic of guests…we had arrived at around 9am in the
morning but of course our room was not ready until 2pm which was why we had
ventured out into the city despite the atrocious weather.
On checking in much later, I asked for the wifi password and
had a highly frustrating exchange with the front desk man whilst I tried to
figure out what was being said, I think this was just a combination of jetlag
and unfamiliar accents because I kid you not it went like this:
Him: The password is paraglide
Me: Boramide?
Him: No, paraglide
Me: Parrot hide?
Him: PARAGLIDE
Me: Barramundi? Patagonia? Paragon?
And so on. Until at some point he gave up and wrote it on a
piece of paper and I shuffled away feeling highly stupid and hoping I did not
come across as in any way racist. It was a slightly clumsy start.
The next day (after 13 straight hours of sleep I might add - #winning) Stu and I had booked a day long tour to Cape Point and this truly was
an eye opener into the beauty of South Africa in a very vivid way. Much to my
surprise we saw our first wildlife down on the Cape – zebras, ostrich, baboon
and various boks were spotted and many variety of birds. The road down through
Simon’s Town is absolutely stunning and put me in mind of the Great Ocean Road
in Australia or the Pacific Coast Highway in California which are similarly
stunning and coastal. We also went to Kirstenbosch gardens which are impressive
and offered great vistas back over the city, here are some photos from our
first full day in SA….
The tour officially started on that second evening after we
returned from our tour of the Cape, and we duly sat in the bar downstairs for
an hour or two awaiting start time and any sign of our guide or other group
members. Around half an hour before kick off a group of folks entered YOLO
Central (the bar – actually called ‘Yours Truly’) and I called it immediately
that they were part of our group. They were indeed – this was Sam, Merri,
Harriet and Tegan. It is strange looking back on our first impressions of four
strangers who within two weeks would come to feel like family (they were good
first impressions!)
At 6pm we gravitated to the fire pit area out the back and
the tables started filling – this would be our ‘Africa Family’ for the next few
weeks.
What can I tell you about this motley group of folk? That
humanity never ceases to amaze me, would be the primary take away. Also, that
Stu and I found huge inspiration from the older contingent in particular and
hope we have figured out the older us that we want to be. A common element when
looking at both of our G Adventures groups seems to be that the people who take
these kind of tours are broadly similar in a few critical ways – generally
educated, well-travelled and sociable people. This seems to enable quick
bonding, a sense of team and an ability to see humour in all situations – and
these are major assets on an organised tour such as this. Basically, the
ability to not be a dick is hugely beneficial when you are in close quarters
with the same set of folk, day in, day out in a foreign environment.
Throughout our tour I was proud of the sense of altruism
shown by all – sharing resources, carrying bags, making sure we all took turns
in the most shonky seats in the minibus, general camaraderie which added a
warmth to every scenario. I would gladly welcome any of them into my house any
day of the week. Our tour guide Hardy was also an absolute gem – incredibly knowledgeable
and easy going, funny and able to deal with the frequent TIA moments with aplomb,
the tour would not have been the same without him.
After our welcome meeting we headed over the road to Arnold’s restaurant for our first group
meal – I had a very tasty Ostrich steak – and to acquaint ourselves. Stu and I
were sat with Kass from Germany, Niki from the UK/USA and Al and Heather, a
couple the same age as us from the UK. First impressions were great and the
conversation (and the wine) flowed.
That evening we headed out on our first group activity which
was to head to a local township for dinner with a family. I was absolutely
floored by the effort that our amazing hosts (Sheila and Stephen) had put into
the meal which was (Mandela’s favourite) of Sweet Chicken, pap (maize porridge),
various vegetables and homemade ginger beer. It was delicious and so awesome to
be invited into their home, the dining table they had set up for our group of
18 literally took up the whole length of their living room. After dinner
Stephen played the trombone for us – he is a critically acclaimed South African
musician and this was a real treat.
Sweet chicken, pap and veg
After dinner entertainment!
The next day we were getting up super early to fly to
Johannesburg for the next leg of our tour, I was pleasantly surprised that
everyone was ready on time – this is no mean feat in a group of 18 but it set the
scene for the rest of the tour, on some occasions Hardy was pretty surprised to
find the whole group assembled and ready to go some 20 minutes or so before the
designated time.
Man, we were an impressively punctual group. So, we headed to
the airport where on check in I discovered that although they had spelt Stu’s
name correctly, my surname was spelt Olilivie. This proved a continuous theme
with every place we checked in and every flight we took having an incorrect variation
on “Ogilvie” but only for me. I almost wondered if my travel agent husband had
set this up deliberately….
Despite the fact my boarding pass did not match my passport,
I was able to board the flight to Joburg along with the rest of the group.
Little did I know the TIA mindfuck that was awaiting me in the hellhole that is
O R Tambo International Airport.
The thing is, you see, I had not bought any physical US
dollars with me for the Zimbabwe leg of our tour which was some 5 days away at
this point. I had figured I would get some rand exchanged at some point before
entering Zimbabwe as I really did not want to be carrying wads of cash in a
country renowned for petty crime and muggings. Hardy told us as we got to Joburg
that in fact this would probably be our last chance to get hold of US$ before
the border so a handful of us duly went to the American Express bureau de
change to get our cash sorted.
The very helpful and highly positive (not) clerk at the cash
desk told me to go away because I did not have an “onward ticket” to show I was
leaving South Africa. Baffled, I explained that I was not leaving SA until 4/5
days later. “Oh”, she said, “then you can’t have any dollars.” I trotted off to
get Hardy and came back with him and watched him TEAR A STRIP OFF the lady
behind the desk. It turned out this was a brand new rule and reflected the SA
government concern over the value of the Rand. Basically, as of now, you cannot
buy other currencies without showing you are about to leave SA.
Thanks to Hardy being very ‘assertive’ they finally agreed
to sell me the dollars but only after they had photocopied all my travel
documents, Hardy’s entire itinerary folder for the tour (!) and after I had
done an interpretative dance to Hakuna Matata (I jest – but it felt like that might
plausibly be on their batshit list of requirements) I had my cash in hand. This had taken around 90 minutes while the rest of the tour group waited patiently in arrivals.TIA in action.
Once everyone who needed them had their dollars secured, we met our driver for the next week or so, Jan, and were introduced to the minivan we would be spending a LOT of time in. Jan drove us to Soweto for a tour of the Township - some of the group did this on bikes, though I bailed because, well, have you SEEN me on a bike?!
Me, on a bike, in Adelaide (not Soweto)
I knew I had made the right decision on this when around an hour later the cycling group met us at Mandela's House with tales of no brakes, crazy gears and pedals/seats falling off. I have enough trouble on a bike with none of these issues....anyway. A very cool experience for those that chose to do it, but not for me.
Mandela's House was very interesting and full of pieces of historical significance, if you are ever in Joburg, do make the effort to visit.
For dinner, we were taken to Emperors Palace Casino which had clearly been based on Ceasar's Palace in Las Vegas. This was a great idea as it felt relatively safe and had a huge selection of restaurants to choose from. Weeks later I would learn that actually, it had been stormed by armed robbers on a number of occasions but by Joburg standards was indeed considered "safe".
We had a very good Indian buffet meal at the Casino and broke bread with Heather and Al, learning that we had quite a bit in common with regards to travel and lifestyle. Coming from Australia, where good Indian food can be hard to find, we were very pleased to have had a very good one on this trip.
That night we stayed at Airport Game Lodge which was lovely - free wifi, good showers and comfy beds so no complaints from us. A good night's kip was definitely in order as the next morning we would be setting off on our journey up towards Kruger and safari shenanigans aplenty....
It is time again for me to recount, record and reflect on a
wondrous adventure. Those of you who read the blog version of our India trip
last year may be curious as to how I coped with another trip into a third world
country on an organised tour – but please, be assured, this time was equally as
overwhelming but without the sickness and for different reasons. Africa and
India are both absolute gems which must be seen (in my opinion) but their
approaches, their colours, their attitudes vary and it would be like comparing
apples with pears if I was to try and rank them in any way.
The route we took on our G Adventures tour
So, I won’t try to figure out ‘which is better’ on any kind
of level. But I can tell you that a similarity which is fairly significant is
that after visiting I am sitting here completely emotionally and mentally exhausted and trying
to process the experiences we had. I am SO bloody lucky, in this limited time that
we get on the planet, to explore these places and I realise that and try to appreciate
it every day.
I admit, I was actually highly anxious about this trip in
the weeks leading up to our departure, for a number of reasons, including the
political situation in Zimbabwe, the fear of being mugged in South Africa,
massive fear of being sick for the entire trip (akin to the India experience),
anxieties about the size of the group (18 compared to a very lucky and awesome
9 in India), worries about being away from my beloved pup for this length of
time and ongoing general concerns about leaving my new job at a critical point
for one of my key projects.
Amidst all that, I was also hugely excited. This trip
represented the attainment of a lifelong dream to go on safari. I remember as a
little girl being entirely blown away by my Nana and Grandad’s holiday photos
from Kenya – they went in the mid-80s which was a fairly unusual trip to do at
the time. My grandad, bless his heart, had a video camera, a very early
version, which must have weighed around 4 kilos but which he shouldered
valiantly to document hours (and hours, and hours) of footage of the African
plains from various game drive vehicles. We watched every minute intently,
waiting for glimpses of the incredible animals….
So, many (30!) years on, it was our turn. We worked this
trip around a need to be in Mauritius for my brother’s wedding in early
September. An African safari holiday was always on our list and we would have
got to it at some point, but this gave us the reason and the approximate dates.
We booked it around a year ago, once we had the framework in place and it has
felt like a long time coming.
I handled the delivering of our beloved pooch to his awesome
adopted family pretty well, considering, (which means I avoided it completely
and wept into my coffee at work while Stu did the actual drop off) and in the
few days leading up to the trip I managed to feel like work was under control
so I could legitimately stop the anxieties relating to that side too. I was
actually pretty relaxed and happy and everything was under control as we set
off for the airport on a sunny Saturday afternoon. I even had an ‘Africa’
playlist set up so I could provide suitable soundtrack at any given moment
(Lion King, Toto, Shakira etc).
I should, of course, have realised that things were going far too smoothly and that this surely
meant a shitstorm of some sort was around the corner. Hmmm.
At Adelaide airport, we treated ourselves to a platter and a
glass of wine or two each and as the minutes ticked by we relaxed and got into
holiday mode. We had arranged (because we had around 9 hours to kill in Perth)
to meet up with some of our buddies from our previous G Adventures holiday and
were stoked to be seeing them again to catch up, have dinner, see their new
house etc. We were so looking forward to it we bought some sparkling wine and
Adelaide treats (Haighs) to take with us on this first leg – we could get away
with it because it was a domestic flight so the wine was not a problem.
We sauntered to the gate in time and raised an eyebrow at
how quiet it was. Stu noticed after a few minutes that our flight was no longer
listed at the gate, despite being less than an hour away. He walked over to the
desk and asked and then he turned to me and waved me over and I could see, by
the look on his face, that something had clearly gone awry.
For reasons we were never actually told, with less than an
hour to take off, our Virgin Australia flight from Adelaide to Perth had been
cancelled. All of the staff at the gate claimed they had not been told why. Our
luggage was checked straight through to Johannesburg and we were now being told
we would be routed to Melbourne first (in an hour or two’s time) then back to
Perth and then on to Jo’burg. This caused us a number of problems, not least of
all (and most disappointingly) we had to cancel our plans in Perth and also go
and get refunds on the gifts we had bought for our friends.
It was incredibly frustrating to turn what should have been
a relaxed and enjoyable 9 hour layover into a staggered series of sitting-in-airport-twiddling-thumbs
events. But hey-ho, we did at least make our connection at Perth and headed to
OR Tambo International Airport, Johannesburg - a name which would very quickly
come to represent airport hell on a whole new level (and if you ever read my
piece on Heathrow you will know this is a huge attainment in my world).
For some reason, our flight from Perth had taken off around
half an hour late and we then faced headwinds which meant the time was not made
back up. We landed at Tambo to be met by a very long immigration queue and the
news that we had to go and collect our luggage and check it back in for the
next flight to Cape Town. Unfortunately, that flight was leaving in around an
hour and 20 minutes and so we basically had to sprint from immigration to
baggage, then from baggage to check in, where a completely disinterested member
of staff who clearly hates their job informed us that our next flight had
closed. We wilted.
At this point I had been awake for around 24 hours and it was 6am and I had just run across an airport to make it this far. Stu said
some things (I cannot remember what but it had an impact) and somehow the guy
agreed to check our luggage but told us unless we sprinted to the gate (on a
different level, in the other terminal) we would not make the flight. Cue
further sprinting, now with a fellow passenger from the same flight in tow. I
am not in a good mood at this point, it is fair to say, but somehow I found the
energy to follow Stu and get to the gate and by the skin of our teeth, we made
the flight.
And so, we made it to Cape Town and the start of our
adventure…part 2 will look at our time in Cape Town and Johannesburg and the
start of our G Adventures tour.
