The first thing I remember is putting my boarding pass in my mouth because my hands were full. When I pulled it out, I noticed the ink for the barcode had bled so that the parallel lines blotted into an inky lake, such that it wouldn’t scan when I tried to check my luggage in. I hoped this didn’t set the tone for the next couple of months.
The journey officially began on a Qantas Airbus A380. It was my first time on a double decker plane, and seeing the red kangaroo sparkle in the sun was mesmerising. The sheer size of the plane was something to marvel at, as well as the fact that in a few moments it would be jam packed with people and luggage and take off into the sky on a six thousand mile journey. An older lady sat next to my family and I, and we discovered she grew up in Johannesburg. After introductions, we naturally drifted to the topic of life in South Africa. It was then that we realised that Johannesburg is no ordinary city.
She said that it is seriously dangerous, and mentioned that whilst crime is not unique to any one country, Johannesburg is on a different level. I fact checked this when I checked into my hotel, and it is by far the sketchiest place I’ve visited. The conditions that give rise to this is a staggering 40% unemployment rate coupled with a younger population. Kidnappings, gun-point muggings and carjackings are commonplace - so much so that the advice was if you see someone approach your vehicle even if it’s a red light, you drive. Understandably the only excursion in the city was the Uber from the airport to the hotel.
The first thing I noticed when we touched down was how reminiscent of a suburb the city looked like. Middle aged palm trees ordained the roads like a garland, the centre pieces short brown buildings with razor sharp wire perimeters. On the radio, I heard some political commentary over Trump’s tariffs jumping from 10% to 30%, perhaps shaving off 0.2% of South Africa’s growth, which may be inconsequential for many countries, but for an already small economy this spells disaster.
One thing I’ve realised with travelling (as well as life in general) is a concept called receptivity which is the capacity to fully connect with the current moment and fuse with it without reservation and your thoughts chattering away. It’s a constant undercurrent of change, most of which depends on your basic needs being met. If you’re hungry, or tired, it severely reduces how much you can be present in the moment and enjoy it for what it is, because you’d be thinking about how nice it would be to eat a meal and rest. Seeing how it was 4pm in Johannesburg, but 12am in Sydney, receptivity began to fade as I coveted a shower after a 14 hour flight.
I was reflecting that travelling seems to be a buffet of new experiences you put your body through, new sights and sounds and circumstances that you selected, almost like picking a movie. However, unlike a movie on Netflix, you can’t simply click ‘back’ to exit. There’s no backing out now.
We met our GAdventures group, our new family for the next 2 weeks and it is a surprisingly diverse crowd teetering on the older side (mid to late thirties early to fifties). The reason it’s surprising is this is a ‘participation camping’ trip for 14 nights, in the African winter. We’re travelling overland on a special bus called a Lando, which is off-road capable and filled with space for our tents, chairs and cooking equipment. Witnessing every single person help each other out over the past few days has been heart warming - setting up our tents, moving luggage around, and doing communal duties like helping cook, and cleaning. Age really is just a number, and it’s about your mindset to life.
As usual, food is the sole contributor to many of my misadventures and this time is no exception. Our first lunch stop on the road gave us a tight 45 minutes which would include shopping for any essentials, using the bathroom, and getting lunch. Which we did in that exact order, revealing “African Time” - everything takes an incredibly long time here. We ordered a simple burger and wrap from a fast food restaurant with 10 minutes to go, and we waited. And waited. Peeking inside the kitchen, I observed a team of 6 cooks, each of whom looked as confused as ever - asking questions like where is the sauce. The time kept ticking and it was past our departure time. It came to a point where I declared my losses and was ready to leave empty handed, and that’s when I saw a flurry of movement all in attempt to assemble a wrap and put it inside of a bag. I manifested my gazelle energy, and sprinted towards the Lando.
On the topic of food and service, at our campsite that evening at Senia, I experienced the polar opposite of lunch. It seemed like the staff in this restaurant were so attentive, in a way that felt familiar. I came to the realisation that travelling to observe how things are done elsewhere and bringing that back is invaluable. It takes only a short look back at history to see many nations send delegates to study in other countries to adapt and learn from their ways. Being open minded enough to keep learning and applying best practises is really important in all aspects of life.
The graveyard of lost or broken things (GLBT), is a concept that I’ve named to the entirely unique phenomenon of my experience of life. It’s a way for me to grapple with loss, and understand the cyclical nature of material items. The first to go was my coveted 12-40mm camera lens which I was hoping to use for landscape photography. Its demise was the usual for my (endless) broken camera gear, being dropped from - what I’d like to say - a trivial height. Next up was a pair of pants I had gotten from Nepal to brave the Himalayas. I simply left this at a campsite one morning (in my defense, it was dark, and my pants were black). One has to quickly lose sentimentality to keep moving forward.
Now, to the animals. We’ve been to a few different places now mainly in Botswana. Khama Rhino Sanctuary was our first stop where we got the chance to see rhinos (as well as a baby rhino), impala, wildebeest, zebra, ostrich (and many baby ostrich following in tandem).
The next was in the Okavango Delta, a complex river system created by rain. We had the opportunity to see this from a helicopter - which itself was such a crazy experience. Our helicopter had four seats, 3 for my family and one for the pilot. It had no doors, and I sat in front. It was incredible to take off, and head into the unfenced park (most of Botswana’s wildlife is unfenced!), and as soon as we did we saw this 20+ troop of elephants gently traversing the land. Then giraffes, with their tall necks reaching into the sky, swaying as they moved their long legs. Near an inlet, I’ve never before seen a 50+ group of hippos all snuggled up close to one another, with some swimming in the water and letting off a sprightly mist as they breathed. The whole landscape looked like it could stretch forever, and it gave off the appearance of a well kept garden. Before human settlement, most places here looked like this. Pockets of trees, water flowing though, animals constantly on the move.
The 3 most important animals mentioned by our pilot were the termite - architects of the landscape, bringing back old fertile soil from deep underground, elephants - the gardeners of the landscape, and hippos - protectors of the waterways, ensuring the rivers flow unobstructed.
On the way to a bush camp deep inside the Okavango Delta, we accidentally cut in between a herd of elephants, separating a mum from her calf. This was the first time I saw angry elephants, flapping their ears, charging at trees nearby, and sounding their trumpet - it’s a sound I wouldn’t like to hear again.
Whilst we were there, we did a walking safari and it was a pinch me moment of realising there was nothing separating us from the wild. We discovered a buffalo’s skull near the water and observed hyena footprints. Nearby, fresh elephant poo. There was a sweet scent earthy in the air because of wild sage.
At the campsite it was an open air shower, and it was a full moon. Hippos were close by, and I heard their sounds as I saw the stars. Unreal.
It was there I met a guide who has been working for nearly 20 years and has had some crazy experiences, including 3 close encounters with lions on a walking safari, needing him to use his gun. He said it’s in those moments you need a steady heart.
We’re in the Kalahari desert, and the nights are freezing and the days pleasant in winter. Maybe it’s the anti malaria tablets, or the desert dust, but I’m having strange dreams.
Heading out from the campsite near sunrise, we observed a herd of elephants again. I wonder what stories the mother elephants tell their babies as they walk around together eating the tall grass, this non-special morning.
The daily life of Batswana is tangential to this. Wildlife plays a part, but I knew most of the people we crossed on our journey would never glimpse what we saw. A glimmer of guilt gave seed. A way to grapple with this was to be open-minded, and do anything to give back to the communities we continue to travel to. Another is to relate to those lives.
Goats wander side by side on the road the dusty road, and on the other side I see two friends walk under the midday sun.
One has to honk at the horses, and cows that love to occupy the road, and don’t like to move, so they pass only inches away from the vehicle.
Trees here are beautiful. They remind me of the Australian bush, muted and dry, but special in their own way. During this winter season, I see trees one-third speckled with yellow leaves, then red, and some green, as well as naked branches.
I remember the first stop over at this nondescript gas station, the bathroom had an older man bent over with bloody tissues wafting the sharp scent of disinfectant over the sink.
Sand all around, I see a man wearing a backpack and long dark pants walking alongside the road. He looks like he could belong in a major city, on the way to work. I wonder where is he going.
Whenever I see primary schools or schools in general, I think and try imagine what this would be like to spend years of your life in, walking there and back home and the stories you would’ve lived and constructed. The times you tripped on the way there, or rushed home excited for the holidays.
Surreal to see elephants crossing the road while driving, similar to how I’m used to seeing kangaroos.
We’re travelling in a way that is reminiscent of prior travel before airplanes, the distances to be covered are great and it does take us time - albeit way less than days given we’re on a highway. However, the essence of taking the place in is still there. Endless plains, shoddy but homely buildings, children playing around, kerbside shops - often just a table with a cover and a few items on top.
The very nature of this kind of trip lends itself to characters who are in a transient space. We came across another group that was on a 42 day tour. One person I met was a paramedic studying to be an anaesthesiologist, having a few months off before school began.
All your accomplishments meaning close to nothing when you travel, you see people and they see you, for who you are at its most basic core. There is no such thing as reputation preceding you. Take this truth in context, it certainly doesn’t mean to flee a local life.
It is freezing, should’ve brought my neck warmer, winter in Africa is not to be laughed at!
Signing off,
Apurva