We're A Tough Lot in Africa

“Africa is not for sissies”, “ ‘n Boek maak ‘n plan” and my new personal favourite “In America it’s called survivor, in Africa we call it camping.”

Gotta love the gungho arrogance of South Africans but in truth, there is an underlying ring of veracity to these oft quoted axioms and T shirt graffiti.  We love our bakkies (utility vehicles, to foreign readers) tough; no self respecting vehicle brand would dream of marketing their double cab as anything less than a vehicle which can climb mountains and ford the deepest rivers.  I heard of someone who left her double cab somewhat lower on a Mozambican beach than she should have, returning to see her Toyota’s remarkable island impression with the Indian Ocean at full high tide lapping at the windows.  And yes, she drove it home once the tide had turned.

Bolstered by our bravado and indestructible vehicles, Saffers can take on the world but is it all about human steel and grit?  Two recent trips to the Kruger National Park demonstrated how resilient nature in this part of the world is too.  Strangled by the devastating drought, the landscape in the south eastern part of Kruger was nothing less than a wasteland of such bleakness it was the perfect set for a nuclear holocaust movie.  Red earth, the scattered remains of bleached carcasses, blighted and blackened trees reaching towards the white hot sky in supplication with the mighty Crocodile River reduced to a string of puddles in a broad swathe of glinting sand too searing to look at.

Less than four months and buckets of rain later, this area is a different realm.  Every causeway crosses water, the bridges span busy rivers and 50 (or more) shades of green envelope tar and gravel roads.

But it’s the animals that really take the biscuit.  Their absolute delight in having water to spare is enchanting.  Family groups of ellies stand belly deep in the rivers, splashing and squirting with abandon.  A chorus of contented rumbling carries across to the audience, continuing as the herds emerge onto the bank and follow the wash with an intense body dusting of sand.  Such bliss.

And I swear I could hear giggles from three zebra up to their knees in a small pool, gulping greedily then flicking their noses and hooves to share their watery joy in a shower of rainbows.

There’s not much between the tip of Africa and the frozen Antarctic landmass so perhaps Mother Nature works extra hard here to ensure our environment recuperates from severe climate damage but the intensity and speed of this turnaround is staggering.  Nature’s recovery from a seemingly dead and buried landscape to one of abundance and happiness is proof of the astounding toughness of Africa.

No sissies here.   

This was published on the backpage of Skyways magazine, April 2017.