Navigating Country Landmarks

Whilst whizzing along to our adorable airport, Kruger Mpumalanga International, on Sunday my thoughts strayed to our early days in town.

For a few years, I commuted tween White River and Johannesburg for work, a speedy 35 minute flight. With taxi service between home and the airport courtesy of Him Outdoors.

Which was always a relief.  I'm a paid up subscriber to the theory that men navigate via route numbers and street names while women navigate by landmarks. Of course, some street names do stick - Jan Smuts Ave, William Nicol and Sandton Drives, Witkoppen Road, R40, N4, but mostly, it's "turn left at the Shell Garage / big yellow house / paint shop / mall" etc.

The country route is a little different.  There's a complete lack of identifiable structures, nary a building nestling the airport road. Just the odd roadside fruit stall or lodge entrance.  The rest is hectare upon hectare of macadamia or citrus orchards, interspersed with some avocado trees. The beautiful vista spreads right and left of the road, up and over hills which rise like verdant waves as far as the eye can see.



As a passenger, I was bamboozled all the time.  It's a fairly twisty route and how did the chauffeur know where to turn?  My internal Satnav totally defunct, I had no idea where home was or whether we were headed towards the airport. 

And of course, these country roads don't have a sign.  Not a one.  In local parlance, one takes the "Plaston road" to the airport which sounds OK until you realise there isn't any signage indicating the Plaston road.  In fact, there are three different routes, all known as "the Plaston Road." It beggars belief - imagine calling all the possible routes into Johannesburg the "Johannesburg Road!" 

So an icy hand clutched the innards when facing my first "self drive" to KMI. Demanding detailed, written directions listing visible landmarks, the old blood pressure was rising as I climbed into Lola. Fortunately, this was pre-reading glass days, so at least glancing down at the directions en route was possible!

Often a visitors first sight as they exit the terminal

Left at the hardware, meander round the bends for a few kilometres to the T junction, go left and keep going to the 3 way stop. Turn right and a few kilometres further on, the first sign to the airport appears. It sounds simple, but underplays long stretches of empty landscape and the feeling that one is heading into the blue yonder at 100 kms an hour.

Always a joy to arrive and see the resident Impala happily grazing

Nowadays, there is much more signage and I've travelled the route so often I suspect I could put Lola in gear and send her off driverless, but the first couple of times it was really a heart in throat journey.

Motoring along to meet the Sunday morning flight I felt my soul rise up in joy, greeting a sun-sprinkled azure sky - the air so clear it brought out hues and facets of colour beyond count, and my chest physically expanded to embrace the sheer freshness and exhilaration of being far from the madding crowd.  

Far from breeding contempt, familiarity has woven enchantment over the airport run which has now become breathing space rather than chore.  How many people can say that about their airport commute?

Interesting landscaping details in the airport grounds