Joburg and beyond

My flight to Jo’burg arrives 10 minutes late but that still gives me two and a half hours before my connection to Upington. I have to reclaim my bag and then navigate my way to the domestic bag drop off. It’s confusing and not well signed but a young man wearing an airport pass offers to show me the way, waits while I drop my bag and then walks me to security. I tip him a probably over-generous R50, the smallest value note I have.

Having slept for no more than an hour on the flight I go in search of proper coffee. Bobby-Jo sends a Facebook message to say they are waiting for me at the gate so I finish my coffee, settle up and go to meet them. Only Sue and Denise are there, the others have gone to buy sim cards. I had looked for a place to buy one while in search of coffee but the sole electronics shop didn’t have any. It turns out the sports shop has a side gig and Bobby-Jo takes me there; I end up with more minutes and less data than I wanted but apparently I can convert some minutes to data if I need to.

We introduce ourselves and chat a little before boarding the flight. There’s a couple, Jim and Sue, and the rest of us are solo women; everybody but me is from Australia. Karen and Louise are zookeepers, Karen takes care of meerkats and is very excited at the prospect of seeing them in the wild. Louise also works with Denise at a separate dog-grooming business. Everybody seems very friendly. The flight is called and we’re driven out to a smallish jet; the flight to Upington takes around an hour and a quarter, flying over scrubby terrain criss-crossed by straight dirt roads; there’s a green ribbon flanking the river that runs through the town.

We’re met at Upington by Mike, our driver, who is dismayed by the amount of baggage we have. He fetches a combi van from the car park and manages to cram everything in. It’s only a short drive to Upington.  Riverplace Manor, where we’ll be spending the night, is down a dusty drive past neat rows of vines; Denise and I will be sharing a room with a river view. There’s just enough time to drop our bags in our rooms and change into something cooler before Mike drives us down to the Kalahari Mall to get some lunch. We eat fast seafood at Ocean Basket, getting to know each other as we eat.

Back at the lodge we have some free time to relax, get organised and explore the grounds, then we meet with Bobby-Jo for drinks and a chat about the plans for our trip. Bobby-Jo explains how she came to be running wildlife photography trips and asks each of us what we’d like to get out of the trip. It’s all very relaxed and friendly, with no snobbery about needing to have the latest kit or the biggest lenses. Her passion for wildlife, and her enthusiasm for raising awareness of conservation through her images, really shine through.

For dinner, Mike has reserved us a table at a restaurant that’s a short drive away. Or, at least, it should have been. This being Africa, there seems to be some uncertainty about its location although two different apps agree on its address. Mike follows the guidance and we find ourselves in a black-only suburb with modest single-storey homes. The GPS takes us to a restaurant which, while extremely lively and busy, is clearly not one that takes table reservations. We feel pretty conspicuous although our presence seems to cause little more than mild amusement. It’s only later we remember the huge mound of camping equipment under a tarp on the roof which must have made us resemble the Griswalds.

A few phone calls later, we drive past a car park party that looks like it might be a regular Sunday fixture and return to the centre of town. We finally manage to find the restaurant,  arriving about an hour after we set off on what would have been a 20 minute walk. It’s name “Bi-Lo” is also the name of a local supermarket which seems a little bizarre, and has added to the confusion about its location. We’re seated at a long table in the gardens, chosen because of the chance of seeing steenbok, although it’s dark by now.

The menu is so extensive I find it hard to choose, but I finally pick something I’ve never heard of and which the waitress tells me is pork. When it arrives it’s pretty much an entire leg of pig, served with onion rings and chips. The plate is piled high and although I give it my best shot, when I’ve finished there seems to be the same amount of food as before I started. The journey back to River Lodge takes only a few minutes and I make a brief Skype call home before bed.