After leaving Victoria Falls, we stepped off the plane in Johannesburg and scanned the arrivals area for the familiar faces of Rose and Con. Instead, and to my great delight, my dear old friend Andrew was waiting for us. I’ve known Andrew since his U of T days and we’ve been good friends for many years despite the fact that he now lives in Cape Town. He feels like a brother to me in so many ways. We don’t get to see him, his awesome wife Jen, and their precocious little 3 year old daughter often enough. He hugged us and, priorities firmly in check, steered us straight through the airport to Woolworth’s for a big, steamy Americano. That’s my boy.
When we all tumbled out of the car at Blair Atholl, the kids could barely contain themselves. Rose and Con were waiting to receive their grubby, sandy, filthy visitors and I don’t think the kids left the pool for days (except to chase monkeys, eat everything in sight and occasionally drive the golfcart). Not only were Andrew and family staying at Blair Atholl for the holidays, we had the added bonus of seeing Marsha (Rose and Con’s niece) visiting from London. Full House, South African-style. Heaven.
We spent the days before Christmas just chilling, shopping, catching up with everyone and getting clean and sorted. The laundry we’d accumulated was staggering. Everest-like.
We had an ‘African’ Christmas, decorating a miniature baobab tree and stringing up stockings under the thatch roof. Christmas Day was low key and thoroughly stress-free. Everyone swam, we obsessed over a jigsaw puzzle and shared a delicious meal together. The kids alternated between bathing suits and pajamas all day, although they pulled out their fancy shirts (over pj bottoms) for Christmas dinner.
Conrad and Rose, noticing Henry’s burgeoning interest in coding and computer programming, very generously gave him a Raspberry Pi – a credit card sized computer that makes programming fun and practical. And then Conrad spent hours with Henry helping to get it up and running. It was quite adorable to watch their heads bent together in mutual consternation. Henry’s carried it in his precious backpack every day since and despite my exhortations to send it home for now, he won’t budge. It comes with us everywhere. Grandpa Evert has his work cut out for him when we get home.
Between Christmas and New Years, Andrew’s gang and our gang headed off on another safari adventure – this time to the Pilanesberg Game Reserve. News flash – this is a really amazing spot – only a few hours drive from Jo-burg, set within the crater of an ancient volcano and cradled between the Kalahari and the Lowveld. The lush, Eden-like Pilanesberg is so different from the starkness of the Etosha pan. Given it’s relatively small size, the number of game was astounding. At almost 3 years old, Susara is an old game-spotting pro and could identify the animals and birdlife with the best of them. By this point, she’d taken a particular liking to Tom. She dubbed him “Sausage Dog” and spent many hours directing him to play with her, to Lucy’s eternal frustration. Sausage Dog, she’d declare with solemnity, is my best friend.
Within an hour of driving through the gates of the Pilanesberg, we saw the first of many black rhino, some elephant and countless antelope, zebra, giraffe and other game. Lucy exclaimed, “Why’d we go to Etosha?! Why didn’t we just come here?”. She had a point. Etosha has its own special allure, but the Pilanesberg delivered to us a bevy of animals, almost on demand. At the end of our three days, we were regularly driving past black rhino without stopping, in search of more ‘exciting’ predators – specifically the leopards that continued to elude us.
Back at our singularly odd guesthouse, Jen’s enthusiasm (for, like, everything) quickly attracted a growing crowd of kids for an impromptu game of soccer. She and Mike worked up a sweat while Andrew and I refereed (sorta). We were also taking care to consume a sufficient quantity of gin & tonics to ward of any possibility of malaria. Or heatstroke. We’re responsible like that. Rumour has it that the Pilanesberg is malaria-free, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
The game ended and the kids dispersed, but not before a rainbow appeared and we got a chance to meet Mikey-the-hamster from the cottage next door. The kids had actually brought their hamster (and yes, named Mikey) along on holidays, complete with enormous cage and tunnels and wheels.
Back at Blair Atholl, we relaxed for a few days, visited the property’s horses, went for runs, played squash, chased bats, got haircuts, went to yet another chiropractor, and met with a former colleague of Mike’s for lunch. The kids were dreading leaving Rose, Con and Marsha, the dogs and the pool. For New Years 2017, Marsha organized the scavenger hunt to end all scavenger hunts for the kids involving riddles and construction projects and, most importantly, lots of candy at the end. As the clock struck midnight, it was into the pool for most of the party-goers. I chickened out. Mike was asleep.
Suddenly, it was 2017 and we had plans to head down to Cape Town with Andrew, Jen and Susara. When Conrad and Rose dropped us all at the airport, Lucy and I were in tears. Their generosity was epic – from hosting our dirty, noisy gaggle, to lending us their vehicles, binoculars, clothes, tripods, headlamps, guidebooks, squash rackets, golfcarts – to countless meals, treats, Christmas gifts. They showered the kids (and us) with love, attention, humour and patience and made our time in Southern Africa not only possible, but wonderful. Grafted to my heart, forever. Thank you.