It Is a Wednesday; I am having a bad week. My mood is as black as the stormy sky outside. A text comes in and I slowly reach for my phone. It’s my sister and she asks me if I am free on Sunday. I give an affirmative response and call her. She tells me that her friends are flying in on Saturday from Sweden and she and a few other local friends will be taking them on a tour of one of our local game parks on Sunday. I remind her of my lack of funds and she says no problem, she will sponsor my trip.
Sunday rolls in, I try to wake up bright an early, but alas, I oversleep. My sister’s call wakes me up and I do “the mad dash” to get ready. I run out the door and waddle up the hill and I find her and her five friends waiting for me. I board the rented van and away we go.
We arrive at the pack and four of her friends want to cycle around the pack. And I think, White folks are nuts!! Which crazy person goes round in a non-motorised and open contraption near crazy Buffalos, disgruntled warthogs and God only knows what else!!
Turns out I am one of these “crazy” people.
Bear in mind that the last time I rode a bicycle was 20 years ago. So there we were on these badly maintained bicycle which we hired at the pack entrance, and I was thinking, Dear God, 7 km? Really?
Off we went, the view was spectacular and the ride was… painful. But we had fun and enjoyed ourselves. We agreed to buy bicycles and to visit the pack again because although that was a fun trip, a ride around the pack should be enjoyed on one’s own properly maintained bicycle.