The Pothole That Got Filled

The little pothole that could 

It’s good news in Limpopo when a pothole gets filled. Not only does it helps avoid accidents, it makes us feel like someone cares and our tax money is being spent wisely. 
I am happy to report that I witnessed an actual pothole filling in our hood the other day.

I was sitting working on the porch, ducking the swooping swallows which nest in the eaves, when outside on the road up pulled a white bakkie from one direction and a yellow municipal maintenance truck from the other. I couldn’t see much from behind the May bush and the azaleas on my porch, but I heard a lot of talking and discussion, some laughter. Tea break and a bit of quiet, then some general commotion for about two hours, then quiet.

I went outside to see what happened, and there it was. The pothole that got filled. The little pothole that could. It may be the smallest pothole in Limpopo – I hadn’t actually noticed its previous existence – but it got filled. Er-mazing. Right here in our street, in our little village, Haenertsburg, where there are only 200 odd houses and our neighbour is a pig. I don’t mean Linda or Louis, I mean an actual pig.  

Our neighbour Mathilde is a pig  

Someone bring me a river, a hippo and a G&T please

The Lowveld bush is my happy place. If I could right now, I’d be deep in the bush with Darling, a cold G&T in hand, cruising slowly with all the windows open, perchance to spot an impala under an ancient fig or a pod of hippos basking in the sun like giant aubergines.

Hippos like giant aubergines in the sun 

Living in Limpopo I have been blessed to be able to disappear into the Lowveld bush in between all the madness, and as that good old-fashioned bushwhacker TV Bulpin wrote: “There is nothing quite like it anywhere else on earth. There is a sense of a presence brooding over this wilderness, imparting to it an indefinable character and allure.” This presence he says, embodies all of our longing for adventure, discovery and exhilarating freedom, and is the most unforgettable thing about the Lowveld. Yebo yeah. 

Some of my best soul moments have been seeing the creatures of the bush. A very muddy terrapin in a puddle in the Kruger, a wild dog puppy with satellite-dish ears in the Klaserie. A leopard that simply slunk across our path in Garonga, a hippo dancing at dusk at Ntsiri, a herd of elephant crossing the Timbavati river road in Kruger. And the trees and the rivers, the sunsets, the sunrises, the smell of woodsmoke. 

Sleepy buffalo calf x

Loved for its bushveld spirit, the Lowveld includes the Kruger Park that stretches down from Punda Maria in the north all the way down south to Malelane near the border of Mozambique and Swaziland. It includes the luxury private reserves like Sabi Sands and Mala Mala and the humbler provincial reserves and parks; the Limpopo Valley and the meeting of the borders of South Africa, Botswana and Zimbabwe….where it seems like the elephants an baobabs will never end, although we all know the sad truth that humanity seems ever hellbent on destroying the wild and its creatures. And thank you for the places where they are at peace. 

Pregnant rhino x

I need this virtual reflection of the bush after a befok crazy year in which I packed up the old family farmhouse, packed up dad who went off to Hermanus, packed up myself and packed, many, many suitcases and went to Jozi countless times, New York, Hawaii, Malawi, Ilha de Mocambique, Thailand, and Maputo twice.

Muddy but determined terrapin x

And as the famous South African rhino conservationist Ian Player said, the wilderness is a place of reflection. It's by considering the wilderness as a whole system that one starts to find its real magic. Everything in the bush is interconnected – from the slenderest grasses to the biggest trees - and the more greater the connection the more powerful the amazement. 
Bring me a river, a hippo and a G&T please someone…

Soul spot of note - the Timbavati River Road in the Kruger 

Soul safari with extra leopard

The Soul Safari concept was pioneered some years ago by the charming Bernie Smith of Garonga Safari Camp near Hoedspruit in Limpopo. Back then it raised a few eyebrows – a soul safari? Male ballerinas? Lite beer? Quick, call ranger security, get the rifles! 

But now the Lowveld has chilled out to the point we call it the Slowveld, and people like me and the Ministry of Fabulousness, remain eternally grateful to Bernie for the chance take our souls on safari.

The great outdoors meets inner peace. Gentle game drives end with massages in the Aroma Boma. Nature provides the inspiration for the North African style décor. Try a night time Bush Bath or head for the outdoor deck for sleeping out under the stars; just you and the roaring lions…

Oh and of course, Darling. This was indeed his first visit to the African bush after many years on an island in the Pacific and I think it would be safe to say he thoroughly enjoyed the Soul Safari. Astonishingly he remembered the name of the fork-tailed drongo – “That’s a fork-tailed drongo!” he shouted excitedly – he was peeing and had a beer in his hand.  I was impressed.

Garonga is a special place. We met a German family that had been there for two weeks once a year, eleven years in a row. That’s Trip Advisor fantasy stuff isn’t it? 

Darling and I got to see giraffe, rhino, zebra, wildebeest and lion. Although the lion were furtive. During breakfast we saw two elephants at the watering hole below the lodge and a whole gang of zebras and bokke pull in over lunch. We also spotted a very cheeky squirrel that stole the nuts and muffins from the breakfast buffet. 

We saw the iconic African sunset – and most deliciously of all - a leopard that strolled sexily over the sun kissed path on our first game drive. Aah lucky leopard. Darling’s first. Yeah, Garonga definitely scores high on the Fabulousness Rating. Soul Safari, must do. Check out www.garonga.com

Then I fell in love with Ngam Ta

Oh  Ngam Ta, it's so big! 

They say Thailand is a pretty exotic and erotic place – and it was just a few days into our Thailand adventure that I temporarily forgot all about Darling alas, and had a heady lesbian encounter with an Asian elephant called Ngam Ta. I had a hosepipe and soap and I gave Ngam Ta an all over rub which pretty much changed my life. Her skin was rough and exciting, her ears flapped evocatively and her trunk, oh it was so big! Sorry Darling.

Goodbye Darling, Hello Thailand

The lovely Noo Dang with bubbles!

So the next thing Darling has slipped out of my grasp like a greased piglet – or perhaps it is I who is the greased piglet – and he’s on a plane to LA and I’m on a plane to Hong Kong. The only thing that can assuage my shattered heart at our temporary separation is the fact that our Princess Press Party – destination Thailand - has been upgraded to business class on Cathay Pacific and suddenly I am quaffing real French champagne along with five other happy purring princesses and we are 12 000 feet above the ground, spoilt for life.

I am on my own next to the window. My seat is like a moveable pod, enclosed in all the right places for privacy and you can push various buttons to turn it into a flat bed, and yes, you get a duvet and pillows and there’s a little cupboard for shoes and alongside the seat, a wide surface to spread out your reading material.  Like the South China Morning Post and the international express version of the New York Times. A flat screen TV of course, all remote controlled, a vanity case with toothbrush and lotions and eyepads (as opposed to i-pads) and little bottles of stuff – and never mind the fine dining which involves silver cutlery, white tablecloths, a menu offering exotic Asian cuisine. Real French wines, 12 year old whisky…. Prrrrrrr.

A flying lounge, what heaven. I think of the miserable squashed up people behind the curtain – yes THAT curtain - in Comedy Class and I feel like I really have done something to deserve this although I am not quite sure what it is. I lie there finding it astonishing how we fly through the sky and gain hours, arriving much later in the next place, timelines and zones and seas and continents and land mass and all of this in my princess pod for the next twelve hours.

Peach of a day at the Sarojin Hotel outside Phuket 

Another 20 hours later I will be on the ground in a jungly spa with a pretty and lithe Thai girl squatting over my back and giving me the most incredible massage, ironing out all the dragging of suitcases, the onward connection, passport and customs, the drive through Phuket. And then OMG the welcome Thai massage at the Sarojin Hotel. There will be water lilies and an Indian Ocean beach, a bathroom with real pebbles and jungle plants, orchids and ice buckets. Then there will be fine dining next to a waterfall with five hundred candles.  A lovely woman called Noo Dang will bring me a glass of champagne for breakfast.

But right now I am time-warped and still purring happily on the flight in my princess pod.

I did think of you Darling, of course. I have always wanted to join the Mile High Club and I hoped you would suddenly slink up alongside me in the pod, maybe with a bunch of grapes or perhaps a small flower. Don’t worry about hot and cold towels – there is an endless round of those on this flight. Of course I would have preferred the décor to be a bit more Barbarella, and maybe a better music selection – I did trawl the channels – but you never made it. So I tried every conceivable gadget, ate everything that was put in front of me, drank some wine and then not being one to sleep on a plane - took the 12-year-old whisky option, popped a tranquiliser and watched all seven episodes in the first series of Breaking Bad.

Not Breaking Bad 

Prrr and a thanks to Lesley Simpson PR, Cathay Pacific and the Sarojin Hotel, Destination Asia and Thailand SA xx